Page 67 of Dancing Fools and All That Jazz
‘Where did you go?’ I ask.
She leans in to tell me it was big surprise, but her Max is actually here, in Paris and she has smuggled him into the theatre to watch our performance. I can see her eyes shine when she talks about this man and I feel a little – what is it called? – ah yes, twinge. I feel a little twinge because I am not sure my eyes shine like this when I see Neil. He is a very kind and gentle man, and I am growing to love him, but I would like also my eyes to shine like this when I see him.
‘Ingrida.’ Ruby leans into me. ‘What did Asha say to you about Monica’s blow up?’
I do not know how to reply. I cannot tell her full truth of what Asha said, as it does not seem the right thing to do.
‘Well?’
‘Asha told us you and Monica…’ I check to see Monica is far enough away not to overhear. ‘Well, you and Monica would not be able to… to make up your differences but she say she hope we could all pull together for the competition.’
‘Did she say why we’d fallen out?’
‘I am not sure… it was very difficult to hear. Sheila’s ladies were making very much noise and also my Englishis still not complete so I am not sure if I comprehen—’
‘It’s OK. I don’t care if you know, Ingrida.’ Ruby speaks in a quiet voice so only I can hear. ‘Something happened one night a few years ago. I met a man, just once, but I didn’t know it was Monica’s husband. I’ve only just found out and while I’m very sorry, Monica will never see it from my point of view, I just need to move on. Don’t worry. I’m good.’
I do not know what to say to this, so I say nothing and nod as if I know what she means. Sometimes I do not understand English people.
19
Fay
When I have finished helping Ingrida with her make-up, I add a few finishing touches to mine. The effect is rather marvellous; I look ten years younger. The red top, red combs in my hair, bronzer and lipstick all contrive to give me a wonderful, healthy glow.
My thoughts drift to Edith and I feel butterflies in my stomach. I cannot believe she is here. And I cannot help feeing this is more than coincidence. I no longer subscribe to any religious beliefs, thanks to Andrew, but maybe this was pre-ordained? I find myself saying a silent prayer thatit indeed be so.
It may be a few years since Edith and I were together, but the minute I saw her on the stage, there was no mistaking her. My heart began to race and while I briefly acknowledged it could just be a strange coincidence of watching someone who was her spitting image, I needed no further confirmation when she took her first steps. I know the way Edith dances. Her movements are ingrained in me. She has always danced beautifully and today it was clear she is even better than she used to be. Her performance was completely breathtaking. I was so enraptured I could not concentrate on anything other than her movements and that of her dance partner. At the end, when everyone in the auditorium burst into spontaneous applause, I found I was overcome with awe and pride.
It took a great deal of self-control not to tell Asha the reason for my attention, but I fear Asha takes an unhealthy interest in the affairs of others and does not know when to hold her tongue. I was perfectly outraged when she gleefully told us the reason for Monica and Ruby’s fall out. This is an extremely private matter, and in my opinion, it should not be bandied around as if it were a tasty morsel of inconsequential gossip. I am relieved I did not explain to Asha my relationship to Edith. The rest of the dance group would no doubt have heard it by now had I done so.
When Edith and her group had left the stage – they must have allowed them access from the wings due to them being barefoot – I began to wonder how I could approach her and more importantly, if she would be happy to see me.
I have scoured the competition information and the programme, so I have learnt Edith’s quartet is calledCorps et Ame. Ingrida says the name translates to Body and Soul. Had I not witnessed their dance I would have thought this a somewhat overdramatic, bordering-on-pretentious name, but it is entirely suitable as they most definitely put every ounce of themselves into the performance.
In fact, it was a bit of a light bulb moment for me. Clarissa said I needed to dance from the soul and up until that point, I had not truly realised what she meant. It has made me resolve to give my dancing more than just the correct rhythm and steps. I need to feel the music as Edith does. I am a little nervous to try this out, but I have rehearsed our numbers in my head using more expression, and I think I can elevate my performance. Besides, Edith may be watching me from her dressing room, and I would like her to be as proud of me as I am of her.
I keep glancing up to the screen to see if she is on stage. I could not bear to miss Edith dancing in costume. My programme says they are on after our first dance, but I notice some of the other entries are not appearing in the planned order, so I keep checking the screen just in case Edith’s slot has been altered. What a pity we cannot hear the music, as this would alert me if the “Fix You track started to play.
If Edith’s ensemble is indeed on after our first number, I have a plan. I will stay in the wings and watch them close up. I know we must get changed quickly for our next dance, but I cannot miss this opportunity. It will only take a few minutes extra to linger on the side of the stageand watch my daughter. The others will barely notice I am a little late back into the dressing room.
I think back to the last time I saw Edith. It was way back before the pandemic. It is not a pleasant memory. She had driven to my flat with some of my personal effects after I refused to go back to the family home, knowing Andrew had since installed his mistress there. OK, not his mistress, as we were no longer married, but I was not going to set foot back inside that house now tainted by her presence. Andrew had already delivered all my clothes and the items I insisted would be mine, like the crockery and cutlery we had accumulated over the years. Why should I go to the extra expense of replacing these items when it was Andrew who wanted to end our marriage?
Edith made a final trip to bring over additional items Andrew thought I should have, including the photograph albums of when they were little girls. I suppose I should have been grateful for that.
I think back to our last conversation, which, like all our exchanges of the previous decade, was awkward and strained.
‘Would you like to come in and see the flat, Edith?’
‘I don’t think so, Fay.’
Edith and Bethan stopped addressing me as Mumquite a few years before. It was all part of their adolescent rejection of me, and I refused to rise to it. I will never give them the satisfaction of knowing how much this hurt.
‘You wouldn’t even let us into your bedroom at home. You’ve made it clear you have your separate personal space where Bethan and I are not welcome. So, I will say goodbye here from the outside, where I have always been.’
‘Edith, there is no need to be so melodramatic. This situation does not call for hysteria. I was merely asking you if you wanted to see the small flat in which I am now forced to live.’
‘Nobody forced you. Dad tried his best. It was you who turned your back on Bethan and I and then on Dad. You brought this on yourself.’
