Match Pointe. Indigo Bloome

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Match Pointe - Indigo  Bloome


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served him to be.

      Eloise listened attentively, politely at first and then with fascination at the twists and turns his life had taken. Caesar’s passion for tennis and ballet was obvious, as his eyes lit up and his gestures became more animated whenever he mentioned these topics. Before long, Eloise was completely engaged, laughing at his stories and hanging on his every word. Looking down at her plate, she was surprised to see that she had already finished her lunch. Caesar filled up her glass for the second time with a crisp Pouilly-Fuissé, which she found delicious even though she rarely drank. It didn’t take her long to realise that it was far simpler to go with the flow of all things Caesar, and he was never slow in taking the lead in the conversation – which suited her no end.

      ‘So, tell me about yourself now that I’ve disclosed most of my life to you.’

      ‘Mine isn’t nearly as interesting. Up until recently it was pretty much ballet, ballet, ballet … Now I don’t know what it is.’ She forced herself to swallow the tears these words evoked.

      ‘Tell me more, I’m all ears.’

      As stoically as she could, Eloise described her childhood of foster care and her thrill of being accepted at age twelve to study ballet at White Lodge, home of the Royal Ballet School: something that had changed her life. It was the first time she had verbalised her bitter disappointment about Manon, and once she’d started she couldn’t stop.

      Caesar observed her as she disclosed the bare bones of her life story, knowing they were nothing more than scraps. He already had a file compiled on her life, so didn’t press for the details she avoided, and which he already knew. He merely took notice of what she left out and her mannerisms as she spoke, which fascinated him.

      The poor child had nothing in her life other than ballet. There were times when she was fighting back her tears and he felt like holding her hand to help her through the pain, but he quickly checked himself. He was depending on her feeling completely abandoned and the plan he had developed hinged entirely on that premise.

      ‘Do you plan to return to the Royal Ballet, Eloise?

      She shook her head solemnly, knowing that words might break her.

      ‘But you said yourself, you were given the role of Soloist. It’s not as if you were sacked.’

      ‘I will not return as Soloist.’ Eloise spoke quietly but firmly, and felt anger and disappointment cascading over her crushed heart all over again. She made an effort to rein in her tumultuous emotions; the last thing she wanted was for Caesar to see her like this, though she feared it was already too late.

      ‘So what are you going to do? You must have some idea. You’re too gifted to simply walk away. Perhaps you just need some more time to think things through.’

      ‘Dancing is all I have, Caesar. My pride won’t let me go back – not after the argument I had with Sir Lloyd. It was made very clear to me that the Russians are the next big thing to hit the ballet world and that being “home grown” is now seen as second-rate.’

      ‘I’m sorry you feel that way, but I understand what you’re saying. As you know, our new choreographer, the world-renowned Xavier Gemmel, is on a two-year contract and has the full support of the Board. I’m afraid he has scope to bring in more dancers from Russia, which doesn’t help your situation either.’

      Caesar watched as Eloise shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, confirming the truth of his words. He often found that succinctly stating the reality of a situation, although difficult for people to hear at the time, had a profound impact on their decisions. It was a strategy he often used to his advantage.

      ‘Maybe I should apply to another company overseas … I’m not sure. I’m not skilled in anything else. And I can’t imagine a day without dance in my life.’

      ‘You could apply overseas, but you would need the Board’s approval to do so.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘I’m assuming you’ve read your contract, Eloise …’

      ‘My contract with the Royal Ballet?’

      ‘It states clearly that you do not have the right to accept a position at another ballet company without the Board’s approval. From what I can ascertain from the other trustees, they’re looking forward to having you back – albeit as Soloist. In the meantime, I believe Lloyd has approved an extended leave of absence, and you should receive a letter shortly.’

      ‘If Xavier doesn’t believe I am good enough to be Principal, I can’t return under his leadership. I worked hard to be in that position, but to pretend I can return when Natalia has been promoted to my role is impossible. Xavier is well known in the industry for his nepotism and I’m sure it will only get worse during his tenure.’

      ‘Unfortunately I can’t disagree with you there. This issue was discussed at length before he was appointed. We all knew what we were getting into. So let me ask you this: if you aren’t returning to the Royal Ballet under the current conditions and you are unable to dance elsewhere, what exactly are you going to do, pray tell?’

      Caesar couldn’t deny that right now he felt like the cat circling the canary whose cage door was open – she was such a delicate little bird – but he’d learnt from experience that it was far more effective to let people work through their feelings. At least then they believed they were making their own decision rather than being masterfully manipulated towards his end game, as was usually the case.

      Eloise felt as desolate as she had the day she walked out of the ballet on hearing Caesar’s words. Her current situation was almost too much for her to bear.

      ‘I just want to dance,’ she replied at last. ‘I do think I need some distance from the Royal Ballet, but I have no idea how to go about it.’

      That was the cue Caesar had been waiting for, and if truth be told, he’d had enough theatrics for one day. So he wasted no time in cutting to the chase.

      ‘Then I’m hoping that’s where I may be able to help. I would like to make you an offer and I’m hoping you’ll consider it very seriously. It is something I have put much thought into and I hope it is of equal advantage to both of us. It will guarantee your financial independence – but I won’t lie to you: nothing in this life comes without a price.’

      He took a moment to open his Italian leather briefcase, removed a manila envelope with her name on it and slid it across the table towards her.

      ‘Essentially it means that you would contract yourself to me for the next two years.’

      If Eloise had been desolate a moment ago, she was in shock now.

      ‘What?’ She stared at him wide-eyed. ‘Why me?’

      ‘Because you are financially vulnerable, and you are a magnificent dancer whose skills should be allowed to develop – even if away from structured ballet. You are a beautiful young woman whose life has barely begun – even though you think it is over. I am in a position to provide you with a lifestyle that surpasses what you had with the ballet and surrounds you with athletes who are the top of their field. But I need your personal commitment for two years. After that, Xavier’s term with the Royal Ballet will be complete, you will have just turned twenty-four, with more life experience than you’ve ever imagined and, well, let’s just say who knows what your future may hold?’

      He looked directly into her enormous, dewy eyes, giving her time for his words to sink in.

      ‘I don’t know what to say …’ Eloise wondered whether she was trapped in a warped dream or perhaps it was a nightmare; she couldn’t decide which.

      ‘I completely understand this may come as a surprise, so let me explain my proposal, the specific details of which are inside that envelope.’

      Eloise’s dessert – once again, pre-ordered by Caesar – arrived just as he was relating his discussion


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