Previously on Dance Academy: Last Chapter: So control is what Christian seeks, when he dances and in life. Well know that he knows he might as well hit the ground running. And yet, so much is still in other's hands.
Facing the Mermaid
As Zach suggested, I find Rebecca in the rehearsal room at the company. It's amazing how I can just walk in there as if I belong to the place, and that random people just don't turn up to watch. Half the dancers are leaning at the back, observing the other half go through their pas-de-deux routines. The only sounds are the pointe shoes hitting the ground, but the music that would accompany this would have to be modern; there is nothing fluffy and classical about the way the dancers move.
Abi loses a beat as she stares at me. Ollie gets her back in time.
I remain by the door. Rebecca cannot see me where she stands and somehow the shiver tightening my spine got me convinced she knows I am right behind her.
'Getting there,' Rebecca says at the end of the piece, 'the connection and timing are improving, but there is too much stiffness. The shapes are bold, but the moves have to be smooth.' She turns towards the door beside me. 'Again,' she says in a sharp voice as she exits.
I follow her out keeping my steps small. She's wearing one of those tight long skirt. I have no idea how anyone can walk in these. She goes to sit primly on one of the benches at the end of the peer, her feet crossed and tucked under.
'Do take a seat.'
I'd rather not, but neither do I want to tower over her like an unsteady Pisa. So I sit as far away on the bench, turning enough to face her rather than stay side by side.
'I have not received your contract back. You have a week to do so, but I have a feeling you are not planning to. It is generally polite to decline an offer rather than leave people waiting.' She says this without even looking at me but at the other side of the harbour, the gentle wind lifting her bangs up in waves, as if she's just perched there to enjoy the sea air.
'I wanted to let you know sooner but some meddling people keep on telling me to give you a chance.'
'And why wouldn't you?' she asks in a bland tone as if that was the most boring question she could muster.
'Because I can't be stuck in the corps.'
'Not enough patience or too much vanity?'
'Erm-'
I don't get a chance to answer, Rebecca's raised-up hand silences me. The fabric of her blouse shimmers in the sun and it's like she is not quite human anymore, but a mystical kind of taunting sea creature.
'That was rhetorical. So why are you here?'
'Because-' Because I want to be proven right, that there is nothing you can entice me with runs in my mind, but I have enough politeness ingrained in me not to verbalise it. 'It would seem there might be other options for me.'
'Options to side step all the normal patterns? To get ahead of everyone else who have been waiting for the opportunity, and working really hard indeed, when you haven't?'
Her hand goes up again.
'That wasn't a question either. The thing is, Mr Reed,' she turns her body at an angle too. She is finally looking at me. There is an intensity in her blue eyes that freezes me. 'I do not care for such things. I do not believe in dues. The best dancers will get the best solos. End of story. Loyalty? Time served? Favouritism? No such things with me. I do not deal with oversized egos. I want the best dancer for the right role, where ever that dancer might come from, but on my own terms.'
I stare and try to make sense of what she has just said. This goes against everything I have ever heard about dance companies.
'I will not offer you a full contract anymore, Mr Reed. Consider the one I gave you last week to be null. I will however offer you an open contract. You can imagine our lawyers are ruffled by the very thought, and so they should be. This contract will say, in the nonsensical wordings they like to bore us with, that I will be free to offer a part to you as I see fit, and that you will be in your right to accept or refuse it.
'Once accepted, the contract will bind you for the agreed duration for that particular piece. You would have to come to every rehearsals and training. At other times, you will be free to do as you please. You would therefore only get payment from us as and when you do work for us. You will, of course, not benefit from the housing we offer our other employees and will receive no other moneys in compensation.' She raises her eyebrow at me. ' I believe that is only fair.'
'I- erm-'
'You are warned that my way of doing things disgruntles many. Life as a dancer isn't fair, it has never been and never will be. It never is, especially not in Arts or sports and we are both of these. I am at peace with that. You might find that more difficult.'
There is a tight little smile at the corner of her mouth that riles me up no end.
'What, to deal with the continuous back stabbing that's going to make all your dancers fight dirty against each other?'
'You will find that most dancers there will be happy to have a fair share of the limelight, as it should. A transient new comer will be harder to digest. You will have to prove your worth. Is that beneath you?'
I want to say no, and I want to say yes. What do I know? I don't care about people, about what they think about me. I can deal with tough and deal it right back. I can, but I don't want to. All through the academy I was left alone to get on. Till Ollie got jealous. Till Ben felt threaten. And I hate to admit it, but they completely got to me. Proving my worth? That's the last thing I know how to do.
Rebecca's eyes are sharp on me, scrutinising my every move. 'The thing is you won't know how you cope till you try, and that might be sooner than you think.'
'Hum?' I want to bang my head against the bench. I came out here ready to listen and to say, well, no thank you, that's not for me, but here I am, being told that I would dance solos, that I have the freedom to take it or leave it, and that just sounds too wonderful for words. But she is saying all this to me in with so much sarcasm that I just want to throw it all back in her face, and yet with enough enticement that I would be a fool to walk away. And there I sit, mute.
'How do you plan to train when not in employ?'
Train? That hasn't even crossed my mind, not in days, not since before Tara's life was thrown into a pit. 'Well, I will teach at the memorial, so I will train there.' And the shrug is back.
'I am not amused, Mr Reed, I do mean proper adequate training. And I mean under my very eyes. One thing I have in common with any other company director is that I like to know my dancers. As part of the contract you will have to find at least two hours daily, six days a week, to train with us. Twelve hours. That will feel like a holiday after the Academy. If your dancing abilities diminish that new contract might as well not exist.'
My breathing has become shallow again. There she is, putting demands. It was all too good to be true.
'We will be touring In February for two months. The Academy might welcome you again for that short time. I am sure Mr Andrews, if he is still in power by that time, will concur.'
Back at the Academy? Where? With the cohort that made Kat's life hell? I don't think so.
The tight little smile disappears before I can decide what it meant. 'Our April programme is very exciting. Wes is writing a new story for us, based on a little known Scandinavian tale. That is when I'm going to want you with us. The perfect dancer for the perfect role.'
Her voice has taken a weird kind of musical quality, something between a purr and a the crashing of waves. But I am not being taken on a ride this easily. Here's another one who thinks she knows me. Let's see what she's got in her deluded store.
'And that would be?' I ask with fake interest.
'A two faced character, at times jovial and kind, at others despondent and cruel.'
That gets me right in the stomach. This is how she sees me? 'Charming.' That's it. I'm out of this. I hitch my rucksack back on my shoulder.
She pouts. 'It's perfect for you.'
I stand up. 'And that's supposed to mean what? That I am two faced?'
'You're short tempered for sure. I have told you, Christian, I do not do well with egos.'
I snort. 'And yet you've hired Abigail and Ollie.'
'Their egos are huge, but they are not easily wounded. Please sit.' The words are polite enough but the tone turns them into a demand. And she's got a point.
'We discussed you being a man of extremes. I saw you dance Mercurio, very bold, very strong, great pathos, very unlike your Prince Charming. I was told your original role was the nurse?'
'And?'
'And also that you got promoted to Romeo, and that you were outstanding.'
I gulp. How could I not be? The girl I loved, still love, was slipping through my fingers. I was Romeo, maybe even more desperate, but just as stupid.
Her eyes become so small as she fingers the shell pendant dangling at her neck. 'I wish I had seen that.'
I cross my arms tight against my chest. 'Ben did a great job.'
Her hand waves my comment away. 'His last scene was excellent, the rest was tepid. Lying about it doesn't change the fact and doesn't serve you well.'
And she is right, and I hate her for it, and myself for stooping so low. Sometimes loyalty is just dumb.
'This role requires the acting range you have, that careful balance between contemporary and classical ballet. It will fit your appreciation of theatrical moves too, I guarantee you that much. It will fit you perfectly, if you let it.' Rebecca rises and tilts her chin up. Her gaze pierces through mine. 'This is what I have to offer. I will be sending the contract to Mr Andrews, he will let you know when it is ready and help you through it.'
'I can read my own contract.'
'With the gobbledegook the lawyers are going to write it in, I doubt it. The contract will last a week from being sent. I am not a patient woman, Mr Reed. If you intend on signing it, or are at least considering it, I would turn up to training practices as soon as possible.' She glides back off to her dancers without a single glance back at me.
