She’d read Coral Rossini’s note.
So lovely to meet you again yesterday!
I’ve suddenly realised you would be the ideal person to look after my son Matteo at the benefit on Friday. He’s not the biggest fan of dance but I’m sure you’ll work your magic.
I have taken the liberty of sending some things for you. And some things for Matteo to wear too.
Don’t worry if he puts up a fight—he’s a pussycat really!
Ciao!
Coral x
She’d stared at the note, her heart tumbling into her stomach, and then opened the bags and boxes of clothes, all beautifully wrapped and folded in tissue. There had been the red dress—a froth of satin and petticoats—a wrap with a beautiful Chinese poppy print, beige court shoes and a little matching clutch. Then she’d found a red tie and pocket square for Matteo to wear, and tucked into an envelope was a cheque for a thousand pounds.
A thousand pounds! That had made it even more impossible to say no. No one could afford to turn her nose up at that kind of money. But for this? She just wasn’t cut out for schmoozing with the people who hung around the fringes of the dance world. She couldn’t care less who was famous or rich or both.
The director had been quite up-front about it.
‘I can trust you to do it. Some of the other girls might get a bit carried away, but you’ve got your head screwed on. You’ll not let us down. Or yourself...’
He was right about that. She’d been with the British Ballet longer than anyone else—it had been home and school and friends and family to her for years. She’d come up through the ranks from eleven years old and she had no ambition to go anywhere else or do anything else. She was safe there. It was all she knew. And all she wanted to know.
Others came, made friends, found lovers, moved on. They had lives outside of the studio and the theatre. They went to parties and spoke about their families. They knew not to ask her about hers. She knew they were curious, but they accepted her silence. Who’d want to talk about that, after all? The gap year father who just kept on travelling, and the teenage mother who hadn’t been able to accept the curfew demanded by a newborn baby.
Thank God for dance. That was her silent prayer. Without dance she would still be the millstone around her mother’s neck or the fatherless obsessive—scouring the internet, searching for his face in the crowd, dreaming about reconciliations that would never happen...
‘Hi. I’m Matteo. Good to meet you.’
She startled at the sound of his voice and dropped the bag of peanuts she’d been about to open.
Deep breath, big smile, and turn.
‘Ruby. Hello.’ She smiled as she neatly grabbed the bag and extended her hand.
She had to admit he was even more of a heart-throb up close—and so tall. His tie hung loosely, like a rope on the wall of his wide chest. She gazed up past thick broad shoulders to a blunt jaw and a full-lipped mouth. His nose was broad and long, broken at the bridge, and his eyes, when she reached them, were sharp brown berries, tucked deep into a frown.
He shook her hand. Warmly...firmly. Then dropped his hand away. She found herself staring at the half-smile on his lips, noticing how wide and full they were, and thinking that with his longer-than-collar-length hair he looked more like a romantic poet trapped in a boxer’s body than a boring banker.
‘Everything OK?’
Bang, bang, bang. Words were fired out like bullets at a target, and his eyes were taking in everything. Every. Thing. They darted all over her face and swept up the rest of her—and maybe it was the close confines of the plane, or the fact that he had such a presence, or the fact that she was not used to standing in heels serving drinks to a total stranger at twenty thousand feet, but her footing faltered and she had to reach out to hold the back of a seat for balance.
‘Yes. I—I was just going to pour you another drink and find some snacks and...’
‘No problem. I’m fine for drinks and snacks. But apparently I’m heading to the ballet now, which is quite a turn of events.’
‘Yes,’ she said, regaining perfect balance and poise. ‘To see Two Loves. The premiere. We’re so excited. It’s an amazing production.’