Page 40 of Dancing Fools and All That Jazz

Asha

‘We’re in the finals.’ Bonnie punches the air.

‘Wonderful.’ Cath claps Bonnie’s back. ‘I’m just annoyed Sheila’s Maggots have made it too. Purely down to stealing Clarissa’s dance routine to “Roxanne”. The dirty wee hallions.’

I should be delighted we are through and furious about Sheila’s group, but all I can feel is a mental numbness.

The announcement was made just after Ingrida and I returned from the hospital where we had left Fay to wait for her airboot to be fitted. All the groups were called into the amphitheatre for the rollcall.

Now back in the dressing room, Clarissa distributes the judges’ written notes, her face beaming.

‘Will you look at this?’ Cath waves the sheet of paper. ‘Apparently, “Dancin’ Fool” has won the judges’ second highest commendation, and this is what they want us to perform in the finals tomorrow. Asha, did you hear?’ Cath taps my shoulder.

‘Sorry?’

‘We got a commendation. For “Dancin’ Fool”.’

I manage a thumbs up with a smile and a nod. I should be over the moon; it was all I wanted. But now there is only one thing on my mind.

I glance at the notes and feel only a mild sense of disappointment to see there were no remarks – positive or negative – about my Bollywood number. Though in truth, we did not dance our best. Not with one person down and so many of us distracted, me included.

‘Ladies, we need to get going if we are to make our river cruise,’ Clarissa calls.

Ingrida and I hastily change out of our saris.

The sun is low in the sky as we wait for our bus at Place de la Bastille . I hold my bag tightly. The test is inside. Ingrida and I went to the chemist on our way back from the hospital.

Pregnant? I cannot get the thought out of my head.

I am still hoping I am not. What will I say to Jay?

I resolve not to call him until I know. It seems a leap too far to contemplate becoming a mother.

Maybe these waves of nausea are purely psychosomatic; the autosuggestion of expecting a baby inducing the symptoms. I mean, I am getting married, travelling the world. A child is not part of the equation.

Our bus arrives and we show our passes. Ruby has taken over as our guide in Fay’s absence, but I can see she is flicking between the map screen and her messages in a distracted way. No doubt waiting for a call from Max. The tension sparking between them in the theatre café was downright obvious.

All the buses are equipped with a disabled ramp, so Ruby offers to push Hazel on and off in her wheelchair.

Within a few minutes, we are getting off again.

‘Where now, Ruby?’ Cath asks.

‘Hang on… Right, this is the Place de la Concorde . Hey, wow. It’s massive isn’t it. Oh look, the Champs-élysées starts just there.’ She points.

‘I read Marie Antoinette was executed here,’ Cath comments.

‘Was she really? This place is so full of history.’ Bonnie links arms with Cath.

‘And here is the Luxor Obelisk.’ Hazel stares up at the gold-tipped Egyptian relic at the centre of the square. ‘That’s said to be over three thousand years old.’

Bonnie whistles and we all take in our surroundings.

I take a deep breath of fresh air and turn full circle. ‘Hey, those buildings by the trees look a bit like Buckingham Palace.’

‘Marvellous. I had almost forgotten we were in Paris after being inside the theatre all day,’ Clarissa points to the other end of the square to a large, light stone structure topped with a glass-domed roof. ‘If I remember rightly, I think that is a palace just over there.’

‘The map says it’s the Grand Palais .’ Ruby glances up. ‘It’s a pity Ingrida is not with us. She could’ve told us more.’

I had offered to go back to the hospital with Ingrida to collect Fay – she called to say she had been seen quicker than expected – but Ingrida told me to go ahead. She knew I wanted to do the test as soon as possible.

Stop thinking about the test.

Instead, I reflect on Fay’s injury. She has been told she can collect crutches tomorrow, but they said she must not weight-bear and risk displacing her fracture in the first few days, so using a wheelchair will be a necessity.

I do not know how we will get her back to the UK.

I can see it will be fraught with difficulties.

I wonder about the dancer from the French quartet who had rushed to Fay’s side. Ruby wondered if she could be Fay’s daughter, but I had always thought Fay was a spinster. I mean, I cannot imagine her being married.

Ruby studies her phone for a few minutes before saying, ‘We’re only a thirty-minute walk from the Eiffel Tower… Now which way?’

‘I hope Ingrida can manage Fay in the wheelchair.’ Monica speaks to Clarissa.

‘She assured me she would be fine.’ Clarissa responds. ‘It has turned out to be a huge asset to have a trained nurse as part of our number.’

I do not say anything. I think the other dancers have forgotten that as a trained dentist I have far more medical training than Ingrida.

However, I did not want to be lumbered with Fay and besides, if Ingrida needs everyone to know she is a nurse and her sense of self depends on it, then who am I to comment?

Ruby calls to us. ‘We could cross the river here, or walk along the banks until we’re nearer the Eiffel Tower?’

‘Let’s see which is wheelchair friendly,’ Hazel suggests.

Ruby sets off and waves us over to indicate a gentle ramp down to the walkway on our side of the river.

We follow and walk along the waterfront for about twenty minutes before the river turns and the Eiffel Tower comes into view.

‘OK, the Bateaux Parisiens is where our boat’s moored, over there. We need to cross at the next bridge.’ Ruby helps Clarissa push Hazel up the slope to the bridge and a few minutes later we are beside a line of cruisers below the Eiffel Tower.

There are artists dotted around the pavement, painting the iconic structure in the early evening light with the sun low and the clouds in the sky beginning to shimmer shades of pink. We stop to admire their efforts as Clarissa and Hazel go to a small ticket booth to confirm our arrival.

‘I wish we had had time to get out of our black dance tops.’ Monica talks to Cath and Bonnie.

‘We wouldn’t have made it to our hotel and back in time.’ Cath shakes her head. ‘It’s right on the outskirts of Paris.’

‘I didn’t bring a change of clothes, anyway.’ Bonnie laughs. ‘I should have guessed you had, Monica. You’re always impeccably dressed.’

‘I thought about wearing my sari – Fay is still in hers – but we need the costumes in good condition for my wedding…’ I peter out. I do not want to think about the wedding.

‘I’m just glad it’s a warm evening and we don’t need extra layers.’ Cath stares up at the Eiffel Tower and sighs. ‘But it’s cracking to be here in the centre of Paris.’

Clarissa pushes Hazel towards us and – to my relief, as I am starting to feel sick again – we sit down on a couple of benches.

‘All sorted,’ Hazel announces. ‘We just need to wait a short while before we can board.’

‘I have to say, I am delighted we have reached the finals, ladies.’ Clarissa glows. ‘And with the “Dancin’ Fools” routine. I am so proud of your performance.’

‘What are you going to do about Sheila?’ Bonnie asks.

‘We should tell the judges.’ Cath nods her head vigorously. ‘They need to know she stole your choreography.’

‘They should be kicked out of the competition,’ I add.

‘I must say I agree, Asha. But Hazel has a different take on this.’

Hazel sits forward in her wheelchair. ‘I think that providing Sheila accepts the routine is Clarissa’s choreography, they should be allowed to dance. After all, it’s another of Clarissa’s numbers in the final. And she should get the rightful credit she deserves.’

I am not sure I agree. Personally, I think Bold as Brass should be stopped. Their theft of Clarissa’s dance steps is every bit as bad as Janine’s theft of our Paris money.

‘We do, however, have to prove it is your routine first,’ Hazel adds.

Monica holds up her phone. ‘I can get Joanne to forward me the video of the original dance to show the judges. I have it saved on my home computer, and she can send it to my phone. Once they see it is identical, there will be no question it is your dance, Clarissa.’

‘Thank you, Monica. At present I would be happier to see Bold as Brass thrown out of the competition. They are a discredit to the dancing profession.’

‘True, but who knows what revenge they’ll take if we get them booted?’ Ruby interjects.

Ruby has a point. But I realise I am losing interest in the discussion. My mind keeps reverting to my impending test. I resist the temptation to go the nearby public toilet. We must surely be getting on the boat soon.

‘Hello, we are here, ja .’ Ingrida, slightly breathless, arrives with Fay in the wheelchair, which she pushes next to Hazel’s.

‘Well, look at us. We are a pair.’ Hazel squeezes Fay’s hand.

Fay smiles, despite looking incredibly pale. ‘I have to say this fall has taken it right out of me. I would not have been up to finding my way here, but Ingrida has been marvellous navigating the Paris transport.’ Fay turns to Ingrida and smiles at her.

‘You are welcome. It is good to see some of Paris, ja? Look at the Eiffel Tower. We are so close.’

Ingrida sits down next to me on the bench and looks at me expectantly. I give a small shake of my head and lightly pat my bag so she knows I have not yet done the test.

Fay lifts her sari to show everyone the large airboot with Velcro fastenings.

‘That’s one big boot, Fay,’ Ruby comments.

‘At least my outfit hides it from view,’ Fay responds with a smile.

‘How are we going to manage “Dancin’ Fool” without Fay? We need someone to take her place.’ Cath and Bonnie go and stand in front of Clarissa and exchange looks before they continue.

‘And on that point, we’ve had an idea.’ Cath encourages Bonnie to continue.

‘So, Clarissa, well… we thought perhaps you would dance with us. You know the routine; you taught us, after all. I expect you will fit into Fay’s costume, too.’ Bonnie cocks her head to one side, awaiting Clarissa’s response.

I must admit this sounds like a good solution to me, but I know Clarissa has not danced with the group publicly in aeons and may not be comfortable on stage. Plus, “Dancin’ Fool” is a very energetic dance and Clarissa is getting on in years.

‘Goodness, no.’ Clarissa looks horrified. ‘My days of performing in public are over.’

‘Nonsense.’ Bonnie pats Clarissa’s arm but I can see from the way Clarissa returns her entreaty with a hard stare that she is unlikely to budge on this.

‘As it happens, there may be a solution,’ Hazel remarks. I am sure she glances at Fay when she says this. ‘But I cannot say more. Not until tomorrow. For tonight, let’s all relax and enjoy the food and the Paris sights. You have all done brilliantly today.’

I cannot think what Hazel means. Unless Fay’s leg miraculously heals overnight, we are a person down, which will present problems whichever way you look at it. I expect Hazel plans to persuade Clarissa during the course of the evening.

I stand up and pace the pavement. Come on. Let us get on.

Finally, we are allowed to board the boat and I rush to the ladies to use the test. I am grateful Ingrida read the instructions for me outside the chemist.

This is it. Please, please, do not let me be pregnant.

Sample taken; the three minutes seem to go on forever… And ever.

Eventually, a word comes up on the small display, ‘ Enceinte ’.

What? Oh, for goodness’ sake; it would be in French.

But then I see below in the same window it says ‘ 3-4 sem’ .

No. I google the translation of ‘Enceinte’ but I hardly need the confirmation when the answer appears on my screen. I am pregnant.

My first reaction is to call Jay, but I stop myself. I need time to think.

‘Asha, are you OK?’ Ingrida’s voice comes from outside my cubicle. I did not hear her come in. It must be the noise of the boat engines covering the sound of doors opening and closing.

‘Not really.’ I open the door and when Ingrida sees my face, she pats my arm and I hand her the test while I wash my hands.

‘ Enceinte . Pregnant. It say 3-4 weeks…’

As the words leave her lips, Bonnie and Cath enter the ladies and stop short as they catch the word, pregnant. Cath spies the test in Ingrida’s hand.

‘Is that what I think it is?’ Cath claps her hands together with delight. ‘Oh, Ingrida, how wonderful. Congratulations. Already 3-4 weeks? How exciting.’

‘What?’ Bonnie looks blank. ‘What is it?’

‘Oh, Bonnie, can you not see? Ingrida is expecting.’

Ingrida looks anxiously at me, and I give a slight shake of the head.

Please let them think it is her for now – they all know she is happily married.

I told her at the chemist that no one could know I was pregnant if the test was positive, not when they are dancing at my wedding.

If I have a termination, I do not want anyone but Jay to know.

My parents must not catch wind of it. I look at Ingrida and plead with my eyes. She promised.

‘You dark horse, Ingrida,’ Bonnie begins. ‘Fancy you expecting. Ha. No wonder you got married so hurriedly. What wonderful news.’

‘Is not reason I get married.’ Ingrida steps back from Bonnie, glares at me and slaps the test down on the side of the sink. She marches out and Bonnie looks aghast.

‘Oh dear, is it something I said?’

With Ingrida gone, I am definitely not owning up to it being my test; not in front of these two gossiping women. ‘I think it is a private matter, Bonnie. Not to be discussed.’

‘Oh dear, of course. I didn’t mean to put my foot in it.’

Cath adds, ‘Asha please assure Ingrida we won’t say a word, will we, Bonnie?’

‘No, of course not.’ Bonnie looks earnestly. ‘Mum’s the word… oh dear, mum’s the word. Ha ha.’

Bonnie and Cath giggle and I quell a rising nausea. I hurriedly dispose of the test and wash my hands.

Before I can leave, Cath grabs my arm. ‘Asha, we came to find you to say you missed all the drama. Outside. After you boarded the ship, Monica was only mugged – right here. Some eejit tried to steal her phone.’

‘What?’

‘We saw the whole thing. He got away but not before Ruby rugby tackled him to the ground.’

I do not know what to say but I would rather speak to Monica and Ruby than listen to the story second-hand, and I need to speak to Ingrida urgently, so I mutter something incomprehensible and hurriedly leave.