Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Ellie, mulling over her woes, failed to follow developments in the murder mystery episode she thought she was watching. The suspenseful soundtrack drew her attention back to the television, and she discovered the suspected killer had just been killed. After that, there was no point paying attention.
When Gil, a constant presence at rehearsals, invited her to his dad’s closing night party, she turned him down. In a meeting with a Sovereign Theatre Group publicist, she and Lucas had learned about their scheduled promotional activities for Fractures in the Heart. She’d arrived at the supermarket without a list and forgot to pick up lemons and hummus and steel cut oats. A disappointing voicemail from the animal shelter informed her that the young mongrel in an enchanting website photo required a suburban or rural home with outdoor space.
Her days were busy. Her solitary evenings were excruciating. Without Dan, the hours dragged by. She missed their shared meals. The cute way he furrowed his forehead when they watched television. His kisses. The gloriously fulfilling sex.
Her cellphone buzzed a text notification. Ever hopeful, she pressed the icon. Rafe’s face popped up.
Lurking in your territory @ The Wolseley. Dinner companions departing. Care to join me for a nightcap?
Easy decision.
Recovering from a rough day. You come here.
She contacted Lorcan’s evening replacement at the lobby desk, letting him know she expected a visitor.
She saw no reason to change out of comfy loungewear for a man who knew her body almost as well as he did his own and wouldn’t care about her messy hair. She did straighten the sofa cushions and stowed her rolled-up Pilates mat in the corner. She swept up the pink petals that had dropped from the bouquet that had arrived early in the week. She’d compared the roses to photos she’d taken of the nameless plant at Tayer Court, the one Sir Terence referred to as TC37. Dan, identified as the giver by her doorman, hadn’t included a note.
Peace offering? Condolence gift?
Before showing Rafe around the flat—this was his first visit—she offered him a drink.
“Make it non-alcoholic. I’m well beyond my limit.”
“Orange squash?”
“That’ll do.”
She concluded the tour in the study. Pulling aside a curtain, she took him onto the balcony to gaze upon nighttime Mayfair.
“What luck, living in such splendor. And close to the Ormond Stage.”
“I’m considering a move,” she told him when they went inside.
“Where to?”
“Near Regent’s Park. And BBT. I can’t continue living a street away from my ex.” Eventually Dan would find her replacement, and there was a strong likelihood of uncomfortable encounters in Latimer Row, and in the bookstore, or at the cheese shop. She’d see them at the wine bar, seated at his favorite table.
“To rent or buy?”
She shrugged. “Either. My financial advisor is always saying I need to diversify my investments—though I doubt he was thinking about London property. After class tomorrow, I’m meeting an estate agent to check out two flats. A one-bedroom penthouse on Fitzroy Street, with roof terrace and garden views. The other, on Cleveland Street, has two bedrooms for the same price. Both have high ceilings and lots of light.” She liked the canine-friendly wooden flooring and their proximity to a dog daycare facility with a five-star rating.
“You know I’m in Grafton Mews. We’d be neighbors. That’s the appeal, right?”
“Naturally.”
“I’m here to tell my favorite sylph when she’ll take flight. It’s time we discussed the Autumn Gala.”
That sounded promising. “Okay.”
“Late November. Royal Albert Hall. Double bill. Les Sylphides— although I’ll use the original title, Chopiniana. Paired with my ballet about Chopin and Liszt and their mistresses.” He leaned forward, palms pressed against his knees. “A program of contrasts. The dreamy poet and two dozen sylphs fluttering about in the moonlight in Romantic style tutus. Followed by the drama and tortured passion of two musician friends and their human muses. You stated unequivocally that you’re ready to return to the forest glade. How do you feel about lifts?”
“Who’s doing the lifting?”
“Drew Mason. I’m putting you in the opening pas de trois and the C minor waltz. You’ll have the D flat mazurka as well. Supported arabesques. Jetés and pas de chats and port de bras.”
“I remember. When do rehearsals start?”
“Not till the middle of October. After your play closes.”
His duties as artistic director didn’t leave spare time for creating choreography, and the debut of his new work was a major event. The gala was destined to attract an international audience and would be a magnet for dance critics from major publications. They would see her reprise a favorite part in her most beloved ballet.
“I’ve got plans for my solo supporting artist.” He slurred his words. “Supporting solo artist, I mean. I’m thinking White Cat in Swan Lake, first cast . Lilac Fairy, third or fourth cast . A stepsister in Cinderella. Maybe Sugar Plum in The Nutcracker.” He placed his empty glass on the table at his elbow. “A prima, you can probably guess who, retires at the end of season—there’s an announcement coming. It has a huge impact on our two-week European summer tour of Giselle. I’ve long imagined you as a fierce and fearsome little Myrthe.”
“With this hair?” She pulled at a strand. “Every Queen of the Wilis I’ve ever seen was brunette.”
“Doesn’t have to be.”
“Me, as Myrthe.” She shook her head. “How much drinking did you do at the Wolseley?”
“Not so much that I’ll forget to put you on the Sylphides cast list.”
“Move farther downstage,” Joan Wadsworth instructed Ellie. “About five paces. Don’t turn back when Lucas speaks his line. That will heighten the tension.”
Ellie marked the movement with her hands, like a dancer—awkwardly, because of the script she held. She stepped past the faded sofa that represented a bed, and remembered to avoid the pieces of tape indicating where the other furniture would be positioned.
She wasn’t sure whether she should be glad or sorry Gil hadn’t joined them in this rented rehearsal studio. The longer she delayed telling him about her contract with BBT, the worse his reaction would be. On the other hand, concealment felt like payback for all the whoppers he’d told Dan.
During their break, Lucas warned her of probable changes to their dialogue and adjustments to the blocking. “That’s common with new plays. Because nobody is familiar with the text or staging, the audience won’t know when we muck something up,” he said reassuringly.
Having learned her speeches and cues as currently written, she hoped she’d pick up alterations as easily as she did shifts in choreography.
“It’s an adjustment, expressing character conflict through words instead of ballet mime.”
“You’ve done it before.”
“With Beatrice and Benedick, verbal sparring was a game, a competition. They were witty and funny. Lyla and Randall are intentionally cruel and insulting.”
“When Caroline and I worked together on Forsaken Fortune, our director tried to put us at odds off the set and on, to build up the conflict between us. He didn’t know that we’d been secretly married for months. When you come to Hampstead for dinner, you’ll hear all about it from my wife.”
“I’m eager to see those matching Oscar statues. And the baby.”
“That you will. We’ll let you hold our awards and our boy. Not at the same time.”
On Sunday, her day off, Ellie attended a reunion of her drama class. They met at a Chinatown noodle bar, claiming the largest available table and requisitioning extra chairs. Everyone was bursting with news. Simrat would voice a popular children’s book character for a renowned animation studio. The improv troupe formed by four members of the group—Graeme, Rose, Val, and Declan—had secured a weekly pub gig. Tony the Canadian was cast as a constable in an amateur Agatha Christie play in Hampstead. Archie, employed by the academy part-time, received an hourly wage and free tuition to an advanced class.
Before going their separate ways, everyone promised to come to Ellie’s play. She accepted the chorus of “break a leg!” in the spirit it was given and refrained from cringing. As a dancer, she found it impossible to appreciate that phrase.