Modern Romance June 2016 Books 5-8. Tara Pammi
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wanted to sit and laugh and reminisce, but she really could not be late this morning.
‘Get ready,’ Roman said when he saw the time.
She went back to her pretty bedroom and put on her dance clothes and then a taupe linen wrap dress and flat shoes. She checked her bag and then went back out onto the balcony to say goodbye.
Libby smiled when she saw her. ‘Are you off?’
‘I have to rehearse and then check the cast list...’ She closed her eyes as she recalled how terrified she’d been yesterday.
How terrified she was now.
It seemed such a long time ago but now nerves were starting to flood back and they were fierce because she had friends coming to see her and it would be the ultimate let down and embarrassment if she was cut.
‘There’s a chance it won’t be me that you see perform as Firebird tonight,’ she admitted, and her cheeks went red as she did.
She glanced over at Roman but he just rolled his eyes as if she was mad to even think she was about to be cut.
Anya explained further to Libby. ‘I’ve had a difficult time at rehearsals and yesterday was terrible.’ Her jaw gritted as Roman gave an exaggerated yawn.
‘Well, if you want to catch up once the cast list is up, just say,’ Libby offered, because, though she hadn’t reached Anya’s heights, she knew all about being cut and knew that Anya might want to regroup well away from the theatre and even away from Roman and Daniil.
‘It might give these two a chance to catch up.’
Anya hesitated. She liked to be alone on the day of a performance but she recalled Roman’s words, that whatever she had been doing these past couple of weeks hadn’t been working.
Usually she would go back to her hotel room and take a nap, or rather pretend to relax and mentally prepare for tonight’s performance.
Maybe it was time to try something different.
‘Whatever happens, I finish at one,’ Anya said. ‘Perhaps we could meet and...’ She gave a small tense shrug. ‘I can’t do a big lunch on the day of a performance.’
‘Of course not,’ Libby said. ‘How about we look at the shops?’
It sounded like something to look forward to and Anya nodded.
She went to head out and there was Josie, still flustered at having Daniil arrive, and she was coming out of the gym with a broom.
The door didn’t close behind her and Anya glanced in.
It wasn’t a gym.
And even if he had never told her, Anya knew then that she was loved.
In her time away, mirrors had been put in and there was a barre where she could rehearse.
She wanted to go and thank him, but this morning was for Roman and his twin so she headed for the theatre.
* * *
Anya walked quickly and as she went through the square she forgot that this was where she had seen him kiss Celeste as the nerves danced and fluttered in her throat and chest.
She took her place at the barre and the morning was long.
For everyone.
All anyone wanted was the cast list to be put up.
And finally it was.
She tried to walk slowly and not show her fear.
‘Firebird, Tatania.’
Even seeing it written, she still could not quite believe she had made it. A part of her had thought, after two weeks of terrible rehearsals, that she might be dropped.
Mika was there, relieved to see that he was still Ivan the Prince after yesterday’s rehearsal disaster.
It really was a cutthroat world and things changed in an instant.
Perhaps that was why she loved it so much, Anya thought.
She watched as Mika walked off and if they were to dance well tonight then there was something that needed to be said.
‘Hey.’ She knocked on his dressing-room door and he called for her to enter.
‘Mika, I need you to make me look good, just as much as you need me. Don’t you ever speak like that to me again.’
She didn’t wait for his response; instead she went to try on her costume.
Her costume had been let out but as she tried it on she felt it pull at the bust, and the costume manager said nothing but her jaw gritted as she would be spending the afternoon letting it out a couple of millimetres more.
Anya left the theatre for a few precious hours. It was a hive of activity—costumes were being steamed and delivered to dressing-rooms, wigs were being prepared and, though she would usually go back to the hotel and rest, she smiled as she headed off to meet Libby.
‘Well!’ Libby said when she saw Anya’s smile. ‘I don’t need to ask!’
‘I am very relieved,’ Anya admitted. ‘I really wasn’t sure if I would be Firebird tonight. Things are tense back there and the costume manager is not speaking to me.’ Anya rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve put on a little weight.’
‘Well, you look amazing for it,’ Libby said. ‘I need to find a dress to wear tonight.’
And there was no place nicer to shop than Paris. Libby found something for the performance in a very dark shade of crimson that looked fabulous with her blond hair and Anya held Nadia while Libby went to try it on.
She wanted a baby.
Never had she fully admitted it to herself, but holding Nadia, so precious and tiny, Anya felt tears sting at the back of her eyes.
She stood up, refusing to give in to them. She knew that she would look mad sitting in the middle of a luxury boutique crying her eyes out.
Instead she examined the clothes and held up a dress that was nothing like she would ever choose normally. It was a halter-neck and the colours of a peacock’s tail in full display, and beside it were shoes that were a little high for Anya, but not too high.
‘What do you think?’ Libby asked as she came out of the dressing-room.
‘You look wonderful,’ Anya told her. ‘You certainly don’t look as if you’ve just had a baby.’
‘Well, ballet has helped with that...’ Libby started, but then changed topic in mid-sentence when she saw the dress that Anya was holding. ‘Anya, you have to try that on.’
‘I don’t like halter-necks...’ Anya said, but then she decided that she might as well see what it looked like on.
And with the shoes too.
She examined herself in the mirrors. The dress showed her back and every last inch of her slender arms but she liked it and she remembered Roman had told her to stop covering herself up.
And why did she?
Yes, she was very slim but she looked after her body and was proud of it.
‘Oh, Anya!’ Libby’s jaw dropped when Anya stepped out. ‘I’ve never seen you in anything other than grey or beige—you look amazing.’
‘Taupe,’ Anya corrected. ‘I don’t wear beige.’
But she did love the dress.
So much so that she decided to wear it home. It was summery outside and she felt summery on the inside today now that she was free from her anger about Celeste.
She wasn’t angry any more. If anything, she thought of Roman’s wife fondly, because Roman had never known a home till then.
As she and Libby walked through the square where Anya