Page 47 of Dancing Fools and All That Jazz

Fay

My leg aches, my back aches and my head is very sore where I hit it on the stage floor yesterday.

However, I am determined not to complain.

The last thing these ladies need is a Moaning Minnie in their group.

I take a few more paracetamol, sipping the water from a small bottle in my bag, as we are driven through Paris in our taxi.

Sleeping with this ridiculously large airboot on my leg proved almost impossible.

I was unable to turn over or stretch out.

However, I must have drifted off for a short duration as I awoke in the early hours needing the bathroom.

It was then I almost made the most dreadful mistake of putting my weight on my bad leg before I remembered my injury.

Ingrida had kindly left my wheelchair next to the bed, brake on, so I was able to slide myself into the chair and quietly push myself backwards across the room using my good leg.

Every move is more complicated than I had appreciated and needs thinking through thoroughly.

I managed to hop from the chair to the toilet, but as I looked up the chair slowly slid away from me on the uneven floor.

I had forgotten to put the brake back on.

Once I had flushed, I was reluctant to hop to the chair, now on the other side of the room, in case I overbalanced.

I began to wonder what on earth I should do.

It was an enormous relief to hear Cath’s whispered voice at the door.

‘Fay, are you OK?’

I called her in and she kindly helped me back into my chair, assisting me to the bidet – I could not reach the high sink – to wash my hands. She then helped me back to bed, and I was most grateful.

Ingrida was in the bed next to me in a fitful sleep.

Now and then she would mutter and give a little moan.

Poor Ingrida. Apart from the issues with her husband, this Kazimieras – her uncle – sounds an absolute thug.

I looked up the translation for the Latvian ‘ Iebiedēt ’ and ‘ Mafijas ’, the words I remembered her saying before I went to bed.

They mean intimidate and Mafia. After all Ingrida has done for me, I find myself feeling most protective towards her.

We all press our faces up against the taxi windows as we arrive at Le Pavillon de La Reine , Clarissa and Hazel’s four-star hotel.

Set back from Place des Vosges – which my guidebook describes as the most beautiful square in the world – the seventeenth-century building is magnificent, bedecked in flowers and foliage.

‘Oh, my goodness. Would you just look at this place.’ Bonnie gives a whistle.

‘Stunning.’ Asha steps outside and breathes deeply. She looks a little off colour. Perhaps she had motion sickness in the taxi?

‘I walked here yesterday. It’s beautiful.’ Monica admires the distinctive frontage.

‘What a contrast to our smutty dive of a hotel.’ Ruby shakes her head.

I grit my teeth and decide not to take umbrage. Ruby cannot know how difficult it was for me to find a hotel in Paris capable of accommodating all of us and within our price bracket. I would like to have seen her sort out a better hotel in the time.

Our group walks into the courtyard, Ingrida pushing me in my wheelchair.

We all stop to take in the fabulous building, which is awash with greenery.

‘I bet it costs a pretty penny to stay here,’ Cath remarks.

‘It is very beautiful.’ Ingrida sighs. ‘And very romantic. I would like come to hotel like this for honeymoon.’

‘Did you not have a honeymoon?’ Monica asks.

‘No but Neil, he say maybe we will go one day…’

Ingrida pushes me away from Monica toward the hotel entrance a little quicker than I would have perhaps liked. I hold tightly onto the arms of the chair.

I hurriedly remind the ladies not to say a word about Janine and the latest turn in events.

The hotel lobby is quite a contrast to the wonderful classical exterior. It is furnished with plush, contemporary furniture on a deep-pile purple carpet that sweeps up the vertical front of the reception desk. A little modern for my taste.

Ruby and Monica walk arm in arm and sink into two of the chairs.

They are back to being as thick as thieves.

I fleetingly wonder what hotchpotch Bonnie would make of this saying.

Oh dear, the woman is a walking disaster.

I cannot for the life of me imagine being so careless with a large sum of money.

And why on earth would any couple want to be named after violent bank robbers?

Even so, Bonnie is pleasant enough. Indeed, my accident seems to have brought out the best in everyone in our group.

I find myself warming to them all – well perhaps not Asha, who has turned rather sullen and quiet – and I rather wish we were not returning home tomorrow, especially now I have made contact with Edith.

We wait at the hotel reception while Asha enquires about our arranged breakfast.

Ruby and Monica exchange words and burst out laughing. I am beginning to get sorely tired of Ruby’s loud cackle. They really should keep it down now we are in this superior hotel. We are representing Clarissa now.

‘ Par ici s’il vous pla?t. ’ The concierge leads us down a corridor.

Ingrida pushes my chair forward and I give a little shiver of excitement.

I cannot wait to tell the ladies of the solution Hazel and I dreamt up yesterday.

We have been exchanging secret texts all morning after devising our plan over dinner on the cruise ship.

When I sent my proposition by text message, I had held my breath, but to my delight I had an immediate and positive response.

A follow-up call put the arrangements in place, and I cannot wait to inform the ladies.

We are taken to a private hotel dining room where Hazel is already seated.

The smell of freshly baked bread and percolated coffee fills the air.

We all take a seat around the single large table.

Well, all apart from Asha who dashes from the room.

Rather rude , I think to myself. She did not even say hello to Hazel first, but I expect she needed the ladies urgently.

She does at least thank Hazel when she eventually returns to the dining room.

‘Please help yourselves to breakfast, ladies.’ Hazel throws an arm out to indicate the large array of food on offer on the buffet table. ‘Clarissa will be with us shortly.’

‘This looks amazing.’ Bonnie takes a plate to help herself.

‘And not a flaccid croissant in sight.’ Cath winks.

I do wish they would keep their voices down. If Hazel has heard them, she does not react, and she indicates for Ingrida to manoeuvre my wheelchair next to her seat.

‘What can I get you, Fay?’ Ingrida asks.

‘Oh, perhaps a continental selection? Croissants, cold meats, cheeses… Oh and if they have olives… and those French pastries look very tasty…’

There is a wonderfully congenial atmosphere in the room as the ladies help themselves to the generous buffet.

‘Yum, look at these.’ Cath and Bonnie point to some Cruller donuts. ‘And what are those? Radishes with butter and salt. Is that a thing?’

‘I’m trying everything. We need to build-up our strength for our dance.’ Cath loads her plate.

‘Ingrida, I’m glad to see you have two plates. You need to eat plenty.’ Bonnie curves her hand over her stomach as she smiles.

Ingrida replies sharply, ‘This is for Fay.’

‘Is that all you’re having, Asha? A single croissant…’ Before Bonnie can say more, Cath pulls her away and steers her to the table.

Waiters pour us coffee and fresh orange juice and if it were not for the ache in my leg, I would be feeling on top form, especially with the news I have in store for our group.

When we have all finished eating, Hazel prompts me to make the announcement.

‘Ahem. You will all know I am unable to dance today, which poses a problem for the “Dancin’ Fool” routine.’

‘Hey. We could incorporate the wheelchair into the dance. It would add to the comedy of the performance.’ Ruby nudges Monica.

‘That would take entirely new choreography, Ruby.’ Clarissa’s voice comes from the open door. ‘But dancing with wheelchairs is not unheard of. You will remember Strictly had a wheelchair dancer in one of their shows. However, that is not what we will be doing.’

Ruby winks at Monica as Clarissa continues. I do not think Clarissa realises almost every utterance from Ruby’s mouth is a joke or chide. I must say I preferred it when Monica and Ruby were not speaking. Ruby’s constant patter – now she is back to her usual self – is grating on me.

‘No, Hazel and Fay have come up with a much better solution. Ladies, please meet Edith, Fay’s daughter.’

Clarissa stands aside and ushers Edith into the room. The majority of the ladies look from Edith to me with surprised expressions.

‘Hi again.’ Edith, who is dressed in dance leggings, a black T-shirt and jazz shoes, looks a little self-conscious as everyone waves a hand to her.

‘Edith has kindly agreed to perform in Fay’s place,’ Clarissa continues. ‘We have just run through the routine several times in the hotel gym, and I have to say Edith has picked up the dance with incredible speed.’

Edith dips her eyes and fidgets with her hands.

Clarissa continues, ‘We will need to rehearse together so Edith can dance in situ with the group. To this end, I am pleased to say we have been given additional rehearsal time on the main stage in recompense for Fay’s unfortunate accident yesterday.

I hardly need tell you, Edith is a magnificent dancer – a tour de force – and we are incredibly lucky to have her. ’

Edith lingers by the door a little awkwardly and I am relieved when Cath stands and crosses to shake Edith’s hand.

‘Welcome. How did you pick up the dance in just a few run-throughs? It took us months to learn it.’

‘Edith is a natural dancer with a memory for pattern. She assimilated the steps with ease. She could be a professional dancer,’ Clarissa responds.