Page 24 of Dancing Fools and All That Jazz

Ingrida

Once we are checked in with the organisers of Expression Paris, we walk down many long corridors to the dressing rooms. There are people everywhere carrying holdalls and costumes draped on hangers.

As we pass dozens of rooms, we see dancers limbering up and stretching out.

Some are in leotards, others in baggy training tops and leggings.

I feel a bubble of nerves in my stomach, but it is not a frightened bubble, more one of anticipation.

‘Which room is ours?’

‘Number twelve,’ Fay calls as she leads the way. ‘Here we are.’

We all step into the spacious room and exchange with each other smiles.

‘Wowzers.’

‘Will you look at this?’

Asha pushes her case to one side and twirls in the middle of the room. ‘Well, this is something else. Nothing like the dressing rooms we have had to put up with in the past.’

‘Is this all for us? I mean, now you’re talking.’ Bonnie gives Cath a high five.

We spread out, open our cases and hang up our costumes on a long central rail. Beautiful dressing tables run the length of the room on both sides under a continuous run of mirrors. The mirrors are surrounded by large bright bulb lights and have comfortable swivel chairs for seating.

‘This is incredible.’ Monica smiles.

‘There’s even an iron and ironing board in the corner. Better get my stuff pressed.’ Bonnie switches on the iron.

I cannot move for a minute; I just stand there taking it all in.

‘What’re you thinking, Ingrida?’ Ruby, she ask me with a smile.

‘That we are here in actual professional theatre.’

‘Amazing, isn’t it? Look they’ve put bottles of water and a box of tissues at every place.’

‘Very nice.’ Asha takes the chair nearest the door, and we all claim a chair each – Monica quickly putting her bag on the chair between Bonnie and me.

‘This is extremely luxurious.’ Fay points to a television fixed high up on the wall. It is showing the full theatre stage where a handful of people are setting up. One person is climbing a tall stepladder to adjust lights.

‘What a wonderful touch to have a linked screen to the theatre. We will be able to see what is happening on stage throughout. It is a pity there is no sound but at least we can see all the other dances.’

‘Oh look,’ – Asha points – ‘there is a programme and timetable stuck to the mirror here.’

‘I feel like a proper film star.’ Cath sinks into her chair.

‘Do the lights have to be this bright?’ Bonnie asks, bending to look at herself.

Cath sings something about being blinded by light, and Bonnie says, ‘It is blinding. Look, I can see wrinkles.’ She put her hands either side of her cheeks and pulls the skin taut. ‘I can’t iron these out.’

‘Wrinkles, never. Those are smile lines and they’re evidence you’ve had a happy life.’

‘Less of the had , my dear Catherine,’ Bonnie retorted with a mock insult in her voice.

‘These lights, they are very bright,’ I say, thinking my skin, it look very pale in the mirror.

‘Well, Ingrida, we need to ensure we have adequate make-up for under the stage lighting…’

Fay, she sounds like a teacher, and I do not like to say I work in Latvian theatre and know this already.

‘It can completely wash out your complexion. That’s why we accentuate the eyes and mouth, so we are not blanked out. I used to do the stage make-up for the girls’ ballet shows…’

Fay pauses, shakes her head and smiles before saying, ‘Anyway, I have to agree. This is a lovely dressing room. You are right, Asha, far better than the last one at that Manchester venue.’

I remember this horrible room in Manchester, when we competed in the North West heats and when I make a bad mistake in the dance number.

It did not look like a dressing room at all.

It was very small and to me it look more like Neil’s attic room – which I only see briefly – cluttered and messy.

I think to myself one day he will let me tidy up in there, but he say it is what he call his manhole, and I am not to go in. English men are funny.

We use the very nice ladies’ toilets close to our room and we all fresh ourselves up. The corridor is busy, and we hear people speaking many different languages.

‘Ooh, this is exciting.’ Bonnie claps her hands together. ‘There are Spanish dancers in the next dressing room. Their costumes are all neon colours.’

‘I heard someone speak in Russian tongue,’ I add.

‘You speak Russian too, Ingrida? Is there no end to your talents?’ Cath smiles as we return to our room.

‘Latvian, Russian and French, they are the languages I know best, but I am getting better at English.’

‘Respect, Ingrida.’ Ruby bows her head to me. ‘With all those languages, you should be a translator.’

‘Let us go and explore.’ Asha grabs her handbag.

‘Clarissa told me she would see us in the dressing room. Where’s she got to? Let me text her.’ Monica gets out her phone and it remind me; I must call Neil soon.

Asha looks at the schedule on the mirror. ‘Hey, the programme gives a brief description of our dances. Our Adele number is described as contemporary jazz. And “Dancin’ Fool” – which, by the way, is very close to the first number – as an “upbeat jazz fusion”. I like that.’

‘Jazz fusion. Sounds excellent.’ Bonnie puts a thumb up in the air. ‘How about our last dance?’

‘A Bollywood spectacular.’ Asha beams and smiles proudly.

‘How many numbers are Sheila’s group performing?’

Asha runs her finger down the list. ‘Looks like they are doing two.’

‘Talking of Sheila, has anyone seen Bold as Brass?’ Cath asks.

‘No. Maybe they did get chucked off the flight in Manchester?’ Asha grins. ‘What time is it?’

‘Ten.’

‘Oh good. It says here we will be getting a tour of the theatre in half an hour. Excellent.’

‘Clarissa is running late.’ Monica looks up from her phone. ‘She said continue without her as best we can, and she will join us as soon as possible.’

‘Is she OK?’ Ruby asks, but Monica only shrugs without looking at Ruby.

‘Oh, for God’s sake…’ Ruby steps towards Monica but her phone buzzes and Ruby stops to look at her message.

Asha hurriedly throws her bag on her chair. ‘Come on, everyone. Let’s make good use of the time and warm-up and run through the dances.’ She calls to Ruby, ‘Ruby, get off your phone. I know you have a new love in life but right now Dance Excellence – Clarissa Kirkland needs you.’

We all smile apart from Monica.

Ruby, she sees Monica look away, so she turns to me and rolls her eyes up to heaven – I love this expression.

I have only learnt it in the last few weeks, and I often roll up my eyes to heaven when Neil is not looking if he says something I disagree with, but I do not want to be in argument with him.

After all, we are newlywed. Fay tells me this, another expression I am liking very much.

So, when Ruby rolls up her eyes, I give her a smile to say to her, ‘it is better we do not have any arguments’.

There is a wider empty area, a vestibule – a good French word – at the opening of the room. Asha suggest we can practise our steps in this vestibule even if we have to make them a bit smaller.

We spread out and follow Asha. First, we march on the spot, roll out our shoulders, swing our arms, and then we do plié squats to get our muscles ready to dance.

My mind, it go to thinking of the telephone call last night and I must be frowning as Asha tell me in a joking way to cheer up.

I quickly fix a dancer’s smile on my face, but my thoughts are elsewhere.

At first, I was very relieved to be back in Paris.

At Manchester Airport, when we found we had no flight tickets, I thought we would have to go home.

I know Neil, he would not have been pleased to see me – not until he has spoken to Rita and Terry.

Then I thought the French authorities would stop me getting on the Eurostar in London.

They wanted to know where Kazimieras Valenko was.

I told them I had not seen my uncle in years, which is true, but they say he was wanted in connection with a number of criminal offences and had left France saying he was staying with his niece, Ingrida Valenko.

They also told me my visa will soon run out and I will have to go back to Latvia or get a new visa.

So, I explain to them how I am a specialist nurse in the NHS, and how I am also now Ingrida Goodman, but I did not have time to get a new passport to show this.

I show them my wedding ring and photographs of Neil and the children on my telephone.

It was a big relief when they let me go so I could get onto the train with the other ladies.

I had not done anything wrong but it make me feel like a criminal.

At the hotel, when I get the call from unknown number , I knew it was going to be Kazimieras before he spoke in our native language.

‘Ingrida. At last, I have found you.’

‘How did you get my number?’

‘That is no way to greet your uncle. You have been very elusive these last five years.’

‘Kazimieras, what do you want?’

‘What? You do not ask me how I am? You do not ask your uncle how he has been doing, how he has been managing with no home when he comes out of prison to find his sister’s flat is gone?

How he has lived when he realised the money his sister held for him has also gone?

When he finds his only niece has left for Paris without leaving her phone number… ’

I could not speak. My stomach did a knot twist.

‘…And when I find you in Paris where you promise to pay me back before, you disappear without giving me a single euro? I have spent five long years looking for you.’

I hover my finger over the end call symbol, but pull it back sharply when he adds, ‘I know where you live. Yes, Ingrida, I do. I know you are in England, and I know you work as a nurse and where you work – your friends in Latvia. They tell your loving uncle how to contact you. I think you are earning very good money, yes?’

I felt sick. ‘You are wrong.’

‘I think now you will pay back what you owe?’

‘I do not owe you anything. Mama left only a few hundred euros, and it was not yours. Besides, it is gone. I used it to fund my training as a nurse.’

‘You are not taking me seriously, Ingrida. Perhaps I should tell you I am in England on business? Perhaps I should tell you I am going to Manchester…’

‘I am not in Manchester. I am in Paris.’

‘Why are you in Paris?’

‘It is none of your business. Kazimieras, I have no money to give you. Nothing.’

‘Oh, I think you have, Ingrida. I hope you are back from Paris soon as I will be here waiting. In the meantime, maybe I will check out your English home… We will speak again, Ingrida.’

He cut the call, and I had no time to think as Monica and Asha appeared in the bathroom. I make up an excuse why I was upset. I tell them it was because I did not know the dance numbers well – I could not tell them about Kazimieras.

Our practice, it help to calm me before I go to sleep and I say a prayer.

‘Please God, do not let Kazimieras find Neil and the children while I am here.’ God, I know he answers me as I feel his sense of peace lying in the hotel bed.

I put my trust in Him as I always have. I must warn Neil about Kazimieras when we next speak.

‘Good, we are now warmed up.’ Asha’s voice brings my thoughts back to our rehearsal, and she directs us to our positions for the first dance.

I stand in Janine’s place and put my concentration to the dancing.

It is like when I am professional nurse and cannot let worries distract from doing my job and must put them aside when I am with patients.

In same way, I cannot do anything about Kazimieras while I am here and I must not let my dance friends down again.

I have put the matter into God’s hands and I will not think about it anymore until the dance competition is over.

When the music starts, I concentrate on the steps and I am soon absorbed by the movement, even though we have little space, and I put my deep feelings into every move.

At the end, Asha is smiling at me and clapping. ‘Ingrida, you danced that with such expression.’

We all sip at the water, and I try to call Neil but there is no reply. I leave a message.

Hello, Neil. We are at the Paris theatre. It has wonderful Wi-Fi, so I can make call to you from here without it costing much money. Please ring me when you can. I miss you. Give the children my love.