CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘I’ve always loved dancing,’ Wil began as they enjoyed their dinner. ‘When I was a wee boy, I loved going to the theatre to see dance shows more than films at the cinema. I remember the first time I saw a traditional ballet in one of the theatres in Edinburgh, and being in awe of the performers, and the ability to tell a story using only music and dance.’
Delphie nodded, listening to Wil while he continued.
‘I attended dance classes when I was young, learning everything from ballet to ballroom,’ he added. ‘Then as I grew up and it was clear that I would make dancing my career, I always wanted to create my own show. Combining ballet with ballroom.’
Delphie blinked. ‘A new show with ballet and ballroom dancing in it?’
‘Yes. For years I toyed with various styles from traditional to modern stage elements,’ Wil explained. ‘I wrote down ideas, but that’s all they remained while I forged on with my career. I was fortunate to take part in shows and contests all over the country and abroad. It gave me a wide perspective of what audiences liked.’
‘And the music?’
‘Ah, yes, that was always a key element,’ Wil admitted. ‘But a few years ago I met a composer, not much older than me, backstage after a performance. He asked me to keep him in mind if I ever wanted new music, classical in style. I kept in touch with him, and he’s composed some wonderful pieces that I’m considering using for the show.’
‘Was that the piano music I heard in the studio?’
‘Yes, I’ve only ever told a few people about my dream to create a new show. It never seemed feasible until I came here. Having my own studio, making my own schedule, and meeting you.’
Delphie frowned. ‘Meeting me?’
Wil reached over and lifted up his large notepad where he’d collected his ideas. He opened it at pages of sketches he’d made. ‘These are some of my ideas for choreography. They look like chicken scratchings.’
Delphie laughed, but was interested to see his ideas. ‘What’s the theme of your show?’
‘Again, that’s something I’ve changed over the years. But since I bought your painting, The Sweetest Waltz, and met you, I’ve started to picture a theme of music, dance and romance.’
She looked through his notepad at the rough sketches.
Wil sighed heavily. ‘I can’t draw well enough to put together the visuals for each act in the show. The storyboard, the characters, as well as the dances have to be drawn by a capable artist, especially one with a background in dancing.’
Delphie’s eyes widened as she gazed across at Wil. ‘You want me to do the artwork?’
‘I do. That’s why I didn’t tell you about it sooner. I wanted to make sure that I could do this before inviting you to join me in creating the show.’
Delphie felt her breath taken away by his offer .
‘This isn’t like Gareth’s deal, even though I think the artwork you’ve done for him is excellent,’ said Wil. ‘This is a lot more. I need an artist with your talent to be part of the process. The composer has the music, and he aims to write other songs once the show’s theme and story arc is finalised. I’ll handle the choreography. I’d like you to draw the scenes for the show. To sketch the structure. Create a storyboard.’
The enormity of Wil’s offer swept over her.
‘You don’t have to decide right now,’ he assured her. ‘There are other notebooks in the living room I’ll let you have a browse through after dinner.’
Delphie heard what Wil was saying, but her mind whirled with the opportunity of a lifetime being offered to her. To be part of creating a new show. To work with Wil. To have her art at the core of it.
‘I hope you’ll help me rehearse the dance routines,’ Wil added, piling on other aspects she’d love to do.
She felt as if her life shifted into the right groove for the first time in a long while. ‘Yes,’ she murmured.
Wil was so busy talking about his ideas, hoping to persuade her, that her acceptance didn’t register with him.
‘I’ll let you hear the music that’s been recorded after dinner too,’ he said.
By now, they’d finished eating their main course. Wil stood up, lifted their plates over to the sink, and then served up the fruit and cream meringues.
‘Yes,’ Delphie repeated, gazing across at Wil.
He paused. ‘You’ll do it?’
‘I will,’ she confirmed .
A smile lit up his face. She smiled back at him.
Planning to discuss the details after dinner, they ate the meringues, both of them sensing that they were about to embark on something spectacular.
The time was right for Wil to make the ideas in his notebook real.
‘We’ll have to organise the party night at the barn,’ he said, letting her know he hadn’t forgotten it.
‘And rehearse our waltz for the closing dance,’ she said.
‘We can do that.’
Yes, they could, she thought, confident that together they could do quite a few things.
She spooned up a mouthful of raspberries and cream.
Wil ate his too, eager to then go through to the living room to discuss their plans in front of the fire.
After they’d finished dinner, he grabbed his notebook and led her through to the living room.
‘Can I sketch in your notepad?’ said Delphie, flicking to blank pages near the back of it.
‘Yes.’ He was eager to see what she was going to draw.
Delphie dug into her bag and brought out a mechanical pencil that she used for her artwork and began to draw outlines for a storyboard. Across the top of the page she wrote bold lettering with the words music , dance and romance .
Wil went over and turned the composer’s music on. ‘This is a dramatic piano concerto. I thought it would be an ideal introduction to the show’s opening scene. Obviously, I don’t have the storyline yet. ’
Delphie paused from sketching, relaxed back and listened to the beautiful music. ‘Do you have any ideas for the storyline?’
Wil hesitated before explaining. ‘Every time I look at The Sweetest Waltz painting hanging in my studio, I think about it being based on the old photograph of your grandparents. I’d love the storyline to be a romance from the past, with vintage costumes, and a happy ever after. The show would have to end on a happy note.’
Delphie pictured the figures in the painting. ‘The lead couple could dance a romantic waltz on stage.’
‘I can choreograph that, with help from you,’ he said.
‘Are we really going to try and make this work?’
‘Yes, but you’ll have to forgo a bit of your own plan.’
Delphie frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘That multitasker element will come in handy to get this show off the ground.’
‘I never imagined I’d be any other type, so I think I can handle all the things we need to organise the show. Beginning with ideas for the scenery, the set designs, costumes, the whole atmosphere.’
‘Don’t forget the poster.’
‘How could I have forgotten that,’ she joked.
They sat together in front of the fire and started to make headway with the plan.
‘I’m not suggesting we follow your grandparents’ story exactly,’ said Wil. ‘Just the core elements, the sense of their first meeting, the challenges, the happy ever after. With their lifetime now mapped out, resulting in them having been together all these years, with dance at the heart of it.’
Delphie agreed, but her mind was already thinking of ideas that would create a fantasy of romance and dance. She explained this to Wil after asking him to replay the concerto.
‘Listening to the power of this music, I’m picturing a dramatic opening scene,’ said Delphie, letting her artistic imagination sketch what she had in mind for Wil to see.
He leaned close and watched as her sketches brought the atmosphere of the music to life, depicting the solitary figure of a young woman, a fantasy ballerina, descending down on to the stage amid an autumn scene.
‘That would be a wonderful opening for Act One. I’ve always loved autumn settings. There’s something magical about the scene amid the trees,’ he said.
Delphie sketched the next little picture. ‘She dances a solo number, to convey her feelings of isolation, on her own without any love in her life.’ Delphie smiled wryly at Wil. ‘You’ll be able to portray this perfectly with your choreography.’
Wil grinned, liking that she was teasing him, challenging him.
The music reached a peak. ‘This would be the perfect point to introduce the male lead dancer,’ she said. ‘The man destined to become the love of her life.’
Wil watched her draw a man, appearing from the side of the stage, admiring the ballerina from afar .
‘And this would be their first meeting,’ said Delphie. ‘The night he falls in love with her.’
Wil’s enthusiasm notched up. ‘This would be a great start to the show in the first act.’
Delphie skipped to another blank page in the notebook and wrote Act Two at the top. ‘We’ll map out a rough arc and then gradually fill in the details.’
‘It’ll take time to create the whole storyline,’ he acknowledged. ‘I suppose you’ll be back in Edinburgh by then. But with your quick trip there to meet Gareth, it wouldn’t be too hard for us to continue working on this.’
‘If anything, the lunch meeting showed me that it’s more the thought that the city is so far away, when really it’s not.’ She almost added that she hadn’t entirely decided whether she’d stay longer in the town or live in the farmhouse when her grandparents came home.
Wil nodded hopefully as she continued to draw.
‘Act Two is where they start to fall deeply in love, but things happen to keep them apart,’ said Delphie. She wrote the word conflict to fill in the blanks where there was no storyline.
‘We’ll add plenty of conflict to convey the drama,’ said Wil, sounding as if he couldn’t wait to get started.
Turning to another blank page, Delphie wrote Act Three across the notepad. ‘I used to love reading stage plays, so I’m familiar with the structure. This would be our basic plan. Then we’d add as many scenes as we want into each act. The third act would culminate in the conflicts being resolved and the happy ever after ending. ’
Wil liked Delphie’s plan. ‘You’ve made a complicated pipedream seem feasible.’
‘Your choreography is the main key. And the music.’
‘But your artwork has just brought the ideas to life.’
‘All our strengths combined could make this work,’ she said.
Another song started playing. A slow, romantic melody.
‘This composition is one of my favourites,’ said Wil. ‘Perfect for a romantic waltz.’
‘At the end of the show.’
‘The couple could dance off into the sunshine, a happy future assured,’ he added.
‘Or dance under a starry sky,’ Delphie suggested. ‘I’ve painted the couple dancing under the stars in front of the farmhouse.’
Wil perked up. ‘Is it finished?’
‘Not yet, but I took you up on your idea. I’m painting it in acrylics on canvas.’
‘I’d love to see it.’
‘Pop round to the barn any time.’
‘Would tomorrow night suit?’ he suggested.
‘It would.’
‘We could rehearse the closing waltz for the party night.’
‘That would be sensible. The time is whizzing in. I haven’t even moved my art studio into the farmhouse.’
‘I’ll help you do that tomorrow evening,’ he offered.
‘In exchange for dinner,’ she insisted .
‘It’s a date.’ This time he didn’t correct himself.
Delphie smiled warmly, and then started to sketch more ideas on the notepad.
Wil went over to a drawer and brought out a new pad. ‘At the rate you’re drawing, you’ll need a blank one.’
Delphie accepted it. ‘Right, what other ideas have you jotted down?’ She searched through the pages of his rough plans.
Wil began to explain his scribbled notes, hoping they made sense. There were key words. A reminder that he wanted to include a full waltz with several couples dancing on stage. Elements of fantasy mixed in with true romance. He heard himself try to rationalise the jumble of jottings.
They made total sense to Delphie.
Once again, she’d exceeded his expectations by a country mile.
‘More tea?’ Wil offered as the evening wore on.
‘Yes, please,’ she chirped, sounding as if she wasn’t the least bit tired. It was more like she was fired up with enthusiasm, sketching the storyboard and chatting to Wil about the new show.
While listening to Wil rattling the cups in the kitchen, creating a feeling of homeliness, she worked on their plan. It looked like a series of boxed images, the lines neat, drawn by hand. Each piece played out the story, scene by scene, with sketches to indicate a dance sequence, written notes, or left blank where the missing parts of the show’s jigsaw would be slotted in later .
The process reminded her so much of her graphic design work when she’d been tasked to prepare a visual presentation of a client’s marketing plan. So much of it was second nature to her. Again, her past came to the fore when she needed it for future projects. Though she never imagined she’d be designing the storyboard for Wil’s dancing dream.
Her own dream of dancing on stage had led her to read stage plays. To study the structure. She’d wanted to learn how characters were developed throughout the performance. How scenery and settings were described. The side notes were a wealth of fascinating information, and she’d gleaned an insight into the structure of the acts and scenes. She’d picked them up in bookshops, and her grandmother had a collection on a shelf in the farmhouse kitchen, alongside recipe, sewing, quilting and knitting books. And there was a folder where her grandmother had kept the original copies of the scripts from stage shows she’d performed in. All of these had scribbled notes in the margins. They provided an amazing slice of the past, now relevant in the present. Delphie planned to check them when she went back to the farmhouse, but for now, she was relying on what she’d already learned.
While the kettle boiled, Wil set up a tea tray, balancing the box of luxury chocolates he’d bought on the side of it. He didn’t think he needed to sweeten Delphie up. She was the sweetest natured person he’d ever met, determined too. The perfect blend. Nice, but nobody’s fool. Except when it came to Gareth. Pushing this thought aside, he made the tea and carried the tray through to the living room .
‘Luxury chocolates?’ Delphie exclaimed. ‘Hmmm, you’re really pulling out all the stops this evening.’
‘They were sitting on the kitchen’s reserve bench in case my meringues went awry.’
Delphie giggled. ‘It would be a shame to let these truffles go to waste.’
‘There’s no chance of that this evening,’ he said, opening the box and giving her first dibs of the dark chocolate truffles.