| |
Taryn
“WHY WOULDN’T SHE JUST go to the doctor for that?” Freya looks at all of us. We’re in the waiting room of the nearest hospital. “It’s not like it’s illegal in this country. And it’s free with the NHS.”
“I don’t think she realized,” Sibylle says. She looks at me. “Remember when she had that infected tooth and didn’t go to the dentist for ages because she said it would be expensive?”
I nod. That was in the first year of the diploma.
“Maybe she didn’t want it on her medical records,” Xavier says. “Not when Roseheart could kick her out.”
“Even though she’s graduated now and is leaving?”
“We hadn’t graduated when that teacher found the pregnancy test though,” I point out. “And Ivelisse’s trying to get auditions with other companies, right? If news that she was pregnant got out, it could harm her chances. She might’ve just wanted to pretend none of this was happening. No official records. Especially...” I can’t even say the words. Ivelisse was assaulted at a party?
“She might not want her family knowing about any of it,” Jaidev says. “Are they very religious? They could be more pro-life than pro-choice. I know Avril is. Ivelisse might have thought it was best to hide all this.”
We’ve never really known much about Ivelisse’s family. She’s mentioned a mother and two brothers, and how they all moved from Puerto Rico to New York when she was eight. She doesn’t go back every holiday because plane tickets are expensive, but that’s about as much as I know.
Still, I don’t know if I even asked her. Maybe I didn’t, because I didn’t want it to reflect questions onto me about my own family.
“Bloody stupid, whatever it was,” Freya says. “I didn’t think she even got her period anyway?”
“Amenorrhea can give a false sense of security that you can’t get pregnant.” Next to me, Sibylle lets out a long breath. “What time is Madame Cachelle getting here?”
“Should be soon.”
Right after Sibylle called the ambulance, I called Madame, using the emergency number she gave us all when we started the diploma. She said it was important we knew we could call her at any time, day or night, if there was an emergency.
Madame said she and someone else from the academy would meet us at the hospital. Sibylle went in the ambulance with Ivelisse, and the rest of us got an Uber. Jaidev had sat in the front, and I was squashed between Freya and Xavier. None of us had really spoken, apart from Jaidev who was trying to amenably answer the Uber driver’s chatty questions. He’d been very interested to learn we were all dancers, though I noticed Jaidev didn’t tell him we were ballet dancers.
“I’m going to get some coffee,” Freya says, yawning. “I simply cannot stay awake any longer without it. Anyone want any?”
I shake my head. I don’t like coffee at the best of times and so often the machine coffee at hospitals has sugar automatically added to it. Jaidev says he will, Xavier says no, and Sibylle shakes her head.
“I’ll help you,” Jaidev says, even though I’m sure Freya can manage to handle two coffees on her own.
I lean against Sibylle. She looks down at me, smiles a little.
“What a day, eh?” she says. “Didn’t think anything could add more drama to earlier. Or, well, yesterday. Wow, it’s late.”
I nod. “Thanks, though. For being there for me, yesterday.”
“What are friends for?”
“Even though I’d accused you of all that stuff.”
“What stuff?” Xavier asks.
“She thought I was the Victoria,” Sibylle says. It sounds weird the way she says the Victoria. Almost comical. “Only it would appear that Victoria wasn’t actually the Victoria.”
I nod. “It was a guy.” I look across at Xavier. “You heard what happened, right?”
He nods. “Could’ve been a company dancer working with Victoria, though? Getting revenge for you getting her locked up? Who’s her partner?”
“Harry. No, he might be Marion’s. I don’t know. But the three of them are not at Roseheart now anyway, so it can’t be him.”
“But you didn’t see his face?” Xavier asks. “Robert said something about a balaclava?”
“Yeah, he was wearing one.” I shrug. “Could only see that the skin around his eyes was light. He was strong—but then all the dancers are. Doesn’t really narrow it down.”
“What about the voice? Did you recognize it?”
I shake my head. “He was putting on a terrible accent.”
Xavier laughs, then he stops quickly when neither Sibylle nor I join in. He’s saved from any awkwardness though as Madame Cachelle and Ross arrive. Madame sweeps straight over to us while Ross calls at the reception desk.
“Any news?” Madame asks us.
“We don’t know what’s happening now,” I say.
“She was taken straight through from the ambulance,” Sibylle says. “We think she’d tried to get an illegal abortion. She was bleeding, kind of a lot. And she’d been sick. She mentioned a party she went to in June. It kind of sounded like she might’ve been...raped there.” Her voice is even quieter. “She was mostly unconscious in the ambulance. The paramedics put an IV line in her or something, and they were really worried about infection as well.”
Madame nods, gravely. “Poor child.”
I can’t imagine dealing with all of this. Being assaulted, and then having to try and sort out an abortion in secret. But abortion—is that what the strict rules at Roseheart lead to? There are always rumors of dancers visiting clinics. But those are always NHS clinics. Or at least legal ones. Not like this place Ivelisse went to. Not that I know of.
I think of what Jaidev was saying. I take out my phone and Google whether abortion is legal in the US. It is, but after reading a little, I realize what a polarizing issue it is. Maybe Ivelisse was worried about her career, so she wanted an abortion, but she was worried what her family would think of it, so she didn’t do it through the NHS so there’d be no paper record. She could’ve been scared of repercussions. But I’m just grasping at straws, I know that. I don’t know what her family situation is like, whether she’s close to them—or why she even chose a ballet school so far away. She’s never really said, and they’ve never visited to watch performances.
Still, mine haven’t either.
Ross joins us, says the staff at the desk aren’t able to give any information. It’s just a case of waiting—something I’ve been doing all too much of in hospitals recently. Tessa. Teddy. Now Ivelisse.
I try not to think about Teddy. Even when news of the attack on me was flying around the whole institution, not once did he ask if I was okay. He seemed to just be staying out of the way.
I look at Xavier. “Did you see Teddy in the dorms earlier?”
He shakes his head.
I hope that doesn’t mean he’s still in the studio, doing ballet.
Or worse.
Lying in a heap on the floor, by the barre.
No.
That’s just my imagination. I’m tired. I’m traumatized, by everything.
Freya and Jaidev return with their coffees. Madame greets them politely. Ross nods. Freya asks if they want coffee too, but they shake their heads.
“Has Ivelisse’s family been contacted?” Sibylle asks.
Madame nods. “Her mother is flying over on the next available flight. I don’t know where from though”
Sibylle nods. “She’s in New York, I think.”
“Well, I do not know what time she will be here. Hopefully, we’ll have good news to give her. But we could be here for a while, so I suggest you all go back. Ross will drive you.” She glances briefly at Ross who nods. “I will wait here.”
That seems to be the plan and it’s not something to argue with, going by the way Madame makes eye contact with each of us. It's strange leaving the hospital without knowing.
“She could already be dead or something,” Freya says.
“Shut up,” Sibylle hisses, just as I’m about to say something too.
“What? Just being realistic.”
We’re silent all the drive back to Roseheart. Ross turns the radio on, and we listen to traffic reports for roads we’re definitely not driving on nor will be.
It’s nearly 3 a.m. by the time we get back. Sibylle and I climb straight into bed. I didn’t think I’d sleep easily—but I do.
###
MY ALARM GOES OFF AT eight, and I struggle to open my eyes. Sibylle murmurs something then pulls her duvet over her head. I hit the ‘off’ button on the alarm clock and slowly, having to use all my energy, pull myself out of bed.
Fatigue and tiredness wash over me. Every part of me is sore, my muscles feeling like they’re super strained. My skin’s hurting more too, this morning, and in the bathroom mirror, I see just how red it is.
There’s a text on my phone from Jaidev.
I’ll meet you outside your room and walk you to class.
I start to smile, until I remember why it’s necessary. Someone here is still after me. And the next three weeks are going to be the most important ones so far. We’ve got to get everything perfect before the final assessment. The one that will decide whether Jaidev and I can dance in the company, whether we’ll get issued with permanent contracts. In just under a month’s time, we could be starting the first leg of the tour, in the south of England. Or we could be preparing for another year at the academy, training with Madame to really perfect our pas de deux together.
Jaidev looks just as tired as I feel when he arrives to collect me. We make small talk.
Neither of us has heard an update on Ivelisse.
“Well, we’d better just distract ourselves with ballet,” he says.
And it does work surprisingly well. I throw myself into pointe class. Netty Florence, Nora, and Li Hua form a protective ring around me during the class, and they walk with me to the group rehearsal. Jaidev’s there as well, so I feel a bit better with his presence—but also at the group rehearsal are all the guys on the Midsummer tour. And that makes me nervous.
I look from one to another as we dance and run through several different acts, with Mr. Vikas giving correction after correction and getting us all to start again at various stages.
My attacker could be one of the guys here. Or it could be someone else. Another company dancer who isn’t even on this tour. Or an academy student.
A teacher? A staff member? All I’ve got really to go on is the white skin color—but that doesn’t really narrow it down, only excluding a handful of people thanks to how predominantly white Roseheart is.
We practice and practice. When group rehearsals are over, Mr. Vikas and Evangeline ask the leads and understudies to stay behind for another session. Then it’s endurance training and finally a flexibility class.
By the time evening draws around, no one’s made a move to hurt me, but I’ve not been on my own at all—Netty Florence and Li Hua even accompanied me to the toilets each time I wanted to go, and we made sure not to go in the ones where I’d been attacked—but we also haven’t heard an update on Ivelisse. My texts to her haven’t been answered. My WhatsApp messages have been delivered but are unread.
We don’t see Madame Cachelle at Roseheart again until the next morning, and all she can tell us is Ivelisse’s mother is at the hospital now. The hospital staff haven’t given an update to the school due to data protection and confidentiality, and Madame doesn’t want to bother Ivelisse’s family at this very stressful time.
I hate not knowing but knowing isn’t within my control right now. All that I can control is my training. And so that’s what I do. I put my all into it, day in, day out. We get into a routine. Jaidev, Netty Florence, Li Hua, Xavier, and Sibylle stick to me like glue. There’s always at least one of them with me.
A week passes, and Jaidev and I take part in our first dress rehearsal. Still, we haven’t heard anything about or from Ivelisse. There’s just...nothing. Even Madame doesn’t know.
We keep dancing.
Teddy still ignores me.
Sibylle and my friends accompany me everywhere.
And, finally, Madame utters the words that allow me to breathe a huge sigh of relief: “Ivelisse’s okay.”
Jaidev and I dance easier with that knowledge.
###
ANOTHER WEEK PASSES, the days just zooming by. My attacker still hasn’t been caught, but I feel safe with my friends around me. I trust them.
“Right,” Mr. Vikas says, clapping as we come to the end of another rehearsal of the wedding scene. “That’s better. Taryn, keep your lines as elegant as possible. Jaidev, watch your arms. Come on, everyone. We have thirteen days until the tour starts!”
Thirteen days. I gulp. The tour starts on September 2nd, but our eight weeks of training end on August 26th. That’s six days away. We’ve got six days until our final assessment—and I know we can practice after that, before the tour starts, but that’ll only apply if we pass the final assessment. Nora said the company will have created the window between the assessment and the tour start-date in case we don’t make it and the dancers need to re-choreograph certain scenes so they make sense without us, with even fewer dancers.
In these last six days, we do full rehearsals, on stage, under the glaring, hot lights. We use industrial-strength deodorants, but still, they’re not enough. The theatres are heat-traps.
We pack more and more practices in. Excitement builds among the company, and Jaidev and I become more and more tense. Mr. Aleks tells us all, in a group session, that the Midsummer tour has now sold out. Everyone cheers, before we’re back to work.
And then it’s here—the final evening before our fate is decided.
Jaidev and I go to the graveyard. I tell him about how I dance for Helena there. We both dance there, for her, slow, sweeping moves.
“Tomorrow will be beautiful,” he says. “You’ll see.”
I nod. All I can do is hope he’s right. Hope we’ve done enough. Hope this works.