On the seventh day of Christmas, Alex's torment proved to be ...
"Penelope's patronage ensured we were able to undertake this tour..."
Alex was only half listening as the troupe's tour manager moaned out his worry over the future prospects of the company. She was watching the scene on the stage.
A slender black-clad man was calling out directions as the corps de ballet were practising. Alex was enchanted as she observed the effortless way they danced, the grace in their movements and the precision of their poses. Their white tights, leotards and tutus added to their ethereal beauty.
Alex was not the only one mesmerised.
Bobby was up on the stage, striking an incongruous contrast as he aped their postures with his arms. The choreographer called an end to the rehearsal with a clap of his hands and the flock of dancers pirouetted around Bobby before leaving the stage in a flutter of tulle and a quiver of pointed toes.
Alex felt decidedly flat-footed and clumsy in comparison and spent the afternoon at the shooting range to bolster her self esteem.
... seven swans a-spinning.