10. February 2024
10
February 2024
‘ W e’re now two fairies down,’ Harrison announced, barging into Nigel’s office without knocking.
Vaughn was seated across from the executive director. The pair had been discussing the details of the bar opening.
‘Mr Gallo,’ Harrison said when he caught sight of Vaughn. ‘Apologies. I didn’t realise there was a meeting happening.’
Vaughn waved off his words. ‘Go ahead. Pretend I’m not here.’ He was curious about the sweat dotting Harrison’s forehead. That curiosity stopped him from doing the courteous thing, which was to leave them to speak in private. There were many reasons to stay. The main one had to do with the folder Finn had delivered to him the day prior, the one containing all the information one could possibly want to know about Harrison Walsh.
The man was squeaky clean so far as his criminal record was concerned, but there were some questionable career decisions that were not sitting right with Vaughn. Like how he had taught at Willow’s dance school right up until she finished high school, then applied for a job at Sydney College of Dance after she was accepted there. When he didn’t get it, he took an offer in Europe, then returned to Australia a few months before Willow graduated.
Realising that Vaughn had no intention of leaving the room, Harrison collected himself before continuing. ‘Matilda got told this morning that it will be a minimum of three weeks for her torn tendon.’
‘I thought Matilda was in the ensemble.’
‘She’s also Sarah’s understudy?—’
‘And Sarah’s having surgery,’ Nigel finished, leaning back in his chair. ‘I forgot about that. Who’s the second fairy?’
‘Zoe. She’s just informed me that her hip bursitis will need six weeks. We’re two weeks from opening night and two soloists down.’
Nigel rose with a sigh and walked around to the other side of the desk. ‘Lili can replace Zoe.’ He sat on the edge. ‘She knows the dance. And there are a number of girls who could replace Matilda for one weekend. Piper comes to mind.’
Harrison rubbed his forehead. ‘Perhaps…’
‘What about Willow?’ Vaughn suggested.
Nigel straightened and nodded. ‘She’s really fit right now.’
The immediate change in Harrison’s body language suggested he was uncomfortable with the idea. ‘She might be fit, but this is only her second season.’
‘So?’ Vaughn asked.
‘So she lacks the experience for a solo role.’ His tone bordered on patronising.
Vaughn pushed on. ‘From what I’ve witnessed, she’s better than any of the other understudies you have in mind.’ He paused. ‘Seems strange not to give her a chance.’
It was clear that Harrison didn’t appreciate his input, but Vaughn knew it was more than that. He wanted to be in complete control of Willow’s career. That might not have bothered Vaughn as much if Harrison’s intention was to help her grow, not keep her small.
‘Vaughn has a point,’ Nigel said. ‘Perhaps you could select a few dancers to perform it this afternoon, like a mini audition.’
Harrison shook his head. ‘Willow’s not ready. She needs to get her nerves under control. Piper will do the solo.’ He gave Vaughn a distinctly pointed stare. ‘I’ll leave you to finish your meeting.’ With that, he exited the office.
Nigel gave Vaughn an apologetic look before retreating behind his desk once more. ‘Sorry about that. Creative directors can be a little intense at times, but they also know their stuff.’
Rising, Vaughn buttoned his suit jacket. ‘Will you excuse me for a moment?’ Without waiting for a reply, he left and went to find Harrison. As he stepped out into the hallway, he saw the other man disappear into the kitchen.
‘Why are you following me, Mr Gallo?’ Harrison asked when Vaughn entered. He filled a glass with water, then turned. ‘I’ll not be influenced or bullied when it comes to creative decisions, if that’s why you’re here.’
Vaughn walked closer, his hands in his pockets. ‘Except this isn’t a creative decision, is it? Willow would deliver on that solo, and you know it.’
Harrison’s eyes clouded with irritation. ‘I’m confused as to why you even have an opinion on this. My understanding is that you’ve seen Willow dance once .’
True, but he had also seen her stretched above him, mid-flight. ‘You’re intentionally holding her back, and I’m trying to understand why.’
Harrison laughed through his nose. ‘Clearly you have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m the one who brought Willow here to Melbourne to live out her dreams.’
‘Did you now?’ Vaughn sniffed. ‘Do you know much about carpet pythons, Harry?’
Confusion flashed in Harrison’s eyes. ‘What?’
‘They’re big, but they’re slow. In order to eat, they have to be patient. So they track the movements of their prey, sometimes for long periods, then position themselves in their path and wait .’
Harrison leaned against the sink and sipped his water. ‘If there’s something you wish to say, say it quickly. I’m too busy for riddles.’
Vaughn took another step towards him. ‘I don’t think your motives for bringing Willow here to Melbourne are as kind as you would have people believe.’
‘Careful,’ Harrison warned. ‘Willow is an invaluable member of this company and a dear friend. I’m very protective of her.’
‘I bet you are,’ Vaughn replied with a gentle smirk. ‘Surely more of a father figure than a friend, given the decade age gap?’
Harrison set the cup down and straightened. ‘Right. Well, if you’re done with your python analogies?—’
‘You’ve chipped away at her confidence just enough to keep her looking to you for guidance and approval.’
His throat bobbed. ‘I’ve done no such thing.’
‘So, you never told Willow she was too heavy to be anything other than a chorus girl?’
Harrison squared his shoulders. ‘I see what’s going on here. You’ve taken a shining to Miss Hayes, and you see me as an obstacle.’
‘Actually, I see you as a predator—a patient one.’
‘That’s right. A python,’ Harrison laughed. ‘Allow me to put an end to whatever fantasy you’re conjuring by stating that Willow would never get involved with a man like you. She’s everything that’s right in this world, and you’re everything that’s wrong with it. Day and night. Light and dark.’
Vaughn searched his eyes. ‘At least we agree on that one thing.’
A bead of sweat rolled down Harrison’s temple, and he quickly wiped it away.
‘I won’t stand idle while you stifle her,’ Vaughn said.
Harrison all but rolled his eyes at that. ‘I know you think you have a lot of influence over a lot of people, but rest assured, you have no influence over me or any creative decisions within the company. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do—honest work.’
As he walked past, Vaughn said, ‘You’re afraid of what’ll happen if she shines brighter than you.’
Harrison stilled and looked at him.
Vaughn turned his head slowly, meeting his gaze. ‘And you should be.’
With a final heated glare, Harrison left the kitchen.
Vaughn returned to Nigel’s office, where he found the man buried in a pile of paperwork. ‘Sorry about that.’
Nigel looked up with a worried expression. ‘Everything all right?’
Vaughn took a seat and rested his elbows on his knees. ‘Actually, no.’
Setting his pen down, Nigel waited for him to continue.
‘Willow’s the strongest dancer in the chorus,’ Vaughn began. ‘She deserves that solo.’
Nigel’s brow creased. ‘She’s a great dancer, but Harrison’s the creative director, and he’s made his feelings quite clear.’
‘He’s wrong.’
An awkward smile appeared on Nigel’s face. ‘Even if that’s the case?—’
‘I’d like to offer Vic Ballet a donation of $20,000 to be used however you see fit.’ He knew he was overstepping, but he did it anyway.
Nigel’s smile vanished. ‘Vaughn…’ He placed his hands on the table in front of him. ‘We both want to see Willow succeed here, but this isn’t the way.’
‘You’re turning down the donation?’
Nigel chuckled. ‘This doesn’t feel like a donation. It feels a lot like a bribe.’
Vaughn sat up in his chair, knowing Willow would be horrified to learn that this conversation even took place. ‘I understand why it might feel like one, but the thing is, Willow should have that part—and not because I want her to have it, but because she’s the strongest dancer in that ensemble. The fact that I have to part with $20,000 because your creative director isn’t doing his job properly is the concerning factor here. Perhaps you should reflect on his motives.’ He rose. ‘I’m going back to my office now, and I’m going to write you a cheque. Do with it what you want.’
He left the room with Nigel staring after him.