Wild Keepers

by Dee Bridgnorth

  She took one last look at herself in the mirror then took out her lipstick, re-applying it with a shaking hand. Publicity was something that she had never felt comfortable with; she accepted that it was part of the job, but it frankly terrified her. And Freddie Armstrong was demanding a lot of publicity for this upcoming production of Giselle.

  She put the lipstick back into her bag, taking another deep breath. Her mother had always been irritated by her nerves whenever she had to do stuff like this. She would roll her eyes and ask how a girl that stood up before hundreds on a stage could be so nervous about talking to or seeing only a dozen?

  And Maya could never explain it to her properly. That when she was on stage, performing, it was different. She wasn’t being herself up there; she had transformed into a swan, or a princess, or whatever other role was required of her. Maya Roberts, the woman, no longer existed for a brief spell of time. The magic of the stage wove its spell over her. With publicity, she couldn’t hide behind a role. She had to speak, and act, as herself.

  And that was, quite frankly, terrifying.

  She walked quickly down the stairs to the waiting car. Today, she was due at a press conference, and then afterwards a meet and greet at a shopping mall. Maya rolled her eyes at the thought of that. She had never done such a thing before, but Freddie had been insistent, saying that they needed to broaden their audience. Appeal to the masses, or some such thing. Come down from their ivory tower and show people that ballet was as relevant and entertaining as a stage show, or a film, or a concert.

  “We are performing for the people,” he had stressed at a recent meeting. “Not to the corporate or elite that think they own us.”

  Maya agreed, in theory. Ballet was seen as elitist, something that only a few enjoyed. And she was as passionate as Freddie that it shouldn’t be seen that way. She also acknowledged the cleverness of his vision. If more everyday people came to their performances, they wouldn’t be as reliant on their wealthy patrons. It would free them from the shackles of those people, who indeed thought that they performed just for their personal amusement.

  People like her parents, who owned a private box in this theatre.

  Maya stepped out of the theatre, her eyes sweeping down the street, looking for the car. Freddie had hired a limousine, of all things, to take her there. As if she were Julia Roberts, she thought darkly, not Maya Roberts. This Hollywood star act was making her feel a bit uncomfortable, too.

  Her eyes fixed on a figure walking towards her. It was Evan. She had wondered if he was going to accompany her, and now that she saw him she felt herself relax, just a little.

  He was three feet away from her. She felt that jolt of connection, once again. What was it, and why was it so insistent? She didn’t have time to be mooning over her bodyguard, of all people. And yet, she just couldn’t deny it. It seemed like this attraction was taking on a life of its own.

  “Hi,” he said, smiling crookedly. He stared down at her, his deep blue eyes crinkling in the sunlight. “You look very smart.”

  Maya laughed self-consciously. “I feel like a corporate lawyer,” she said drily. “I don’t wear clothes like this usually.” She sighed. “I suppose I just have to think of it as a costume for a role I’m playing, don’t I?”

  “If that helps,” he said, his eyes sweeping over her. “You seem nervous, Maya.”

  She bit her lip. Was it that obvious?

  Before she could respond, a sleek black limousine pulled into the kerb. Evan raised his eyebrows, staring at it.

  “I thought that the company was in financial dire straits,” he muttered.

  “It is,” said Maya, taking a deep breath. “But Freddie says to make money, you have to spend money. It’s all about appearances.”

  “Fake it until you make it, and all that?” His voice was sardonic.

  She smiled, staring up at him. “Something like that.”

  “Well, your chariot awaits, madam,” he said, mockingly. He opened the back door of the car, smiling at her as he gestured that she should get in, and then got in beside her.

  The limousine pulled out into the traffic. Maya stared out the window, trying to calm herself. The buildings and people on the streets seemed to blur in her vision.

  “Tell me about this ballet,” Evan suddenly said.

  “What?” she turned her head, staring at him. “Why?”

  “So you aren’t thinking about what’s ahead,” he said. “What is it called again?”

  “Giselle,” she replied, smiling. “You really want to know about it? I thought you despised ballet.”

  “Who, me?” He raised his eyebrows, smiling back. “Never. I try to keep an open mind. And I must admit, I haven’t actually ever seen a ballet performance.”

  “Alright then,” she said, her smile broadening. “Giselle is an old and much-loved ballet. It’s considered a classic. One of the top five classical ballets in the world.”

  “Is it the one with the swans?” he asked, his eyes gleaming.

  Maya laughed. “No, you are thinking of Swan Lake. This ballet is the tragic story of a girl named Giselle who falls hopelessly in love with a man.”

  Evan nodded. “Go on.”

  “But the man isn’t who he seems,” she continued. “He is betrothed to another and is an aristocrat. He claims to be a peasant, like her, so that he can woo her. Giselle is head over heels in love, but people warn her that he isn’t what he seems, and she is destined for heartbreak.”

  “Poor Giselle,” said Evan, softly, his eyes gleaming as he stared at her.

  “Poor Giselle, indeed,” said Maya. “She also has a heart condition, and her mother is worried about her. To cut a long story short, she finds out, of course. She dances her grief, collapses, and dies.”

  Evan raised his eyebrows again. “And that’s it?”

  Maya shook her head. “Oh, no. Albrecht, her lover, is heartbroken. He goes to her grave in the forest, and Giselle rises, telling him that she forgives him.” She takes a deep breath. “But Giselle has been inducted into a group of vengeful female spirits, called the Wilis. They are women who have died from broken hearts and seek to destroy all men who cross their path.”

  “How do they do that?” Evan stared at her.

  “They make them dance until they die from exhaustion,” replied Maya. “Or they kill them. Myrtha, the queen of the Wilis, spies Albrecht, forcing him to dance. But Giselle’s love saves him. He is released, and Giselle returns to her grave to rest in peace.”

  Evan blinked. “That’s a damn tragic story.”

  “Yes, it is,” agreed Maya. “A lot of ballets are very dramatic and tragic.” She laughed. “People love dramatic stories.”

  “And doomed lovers,” said Evan, gazing at her. “Romeo and Juliet, for one.” He took a deep breath. “‘A pair of star cross’d lovers take their life’.”

  Maya stared at him. “You like Shakespeare?”

  His eyes widened. “You sound surprised,” he said drily. “Can’t a bodyguard appreciate literature, or is that the preserve of the wealthy?”

  Maya coloured. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Of course you meant that,” he said, his voice hard. “People like you pigeon-hole people like me, don’t you, Maya? We aren’t quite in your league.”

  Maya’s colour deepened. “You have one mighty chip on your shoulder, Evan. I’m not responsible for how you feel about yourself.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not like that. You are pigeon-holing me, thinking that because I am a ballet dancer, I think I’m better than you.”

  “Don’t you?” He stared at her, a little contemptuously. The air between them suddenly thickened with animosity.

  Maya stared at him with dismay. She had been enjoying talking to him about the story of Giselle. She had forgotten her nerves, and had only been thinking of the ballet. Now he had gone and ruined all that. Or had she?

  She hadn’t meant to act surprised that he was familiar with Shakespeare. It was just…he struck her as more
of a baseball and burger kind of guy. And yes, maybe she had assumed that because of the job that he had. Did that make her a snob, like he was claiming?

  The limousine pulled up suddenly. They were here. She didn’t have time to think about it, now. She had a press conference to attend. There would be journalists from all the major news sources here, asking her questions, and she needed to be focused. Not worried about how she appeared to her bodyguard, for heaven’s sake.

  She stepped out of the car without waiting for him and didn’t look back.

  ***

  Evan watched her from the back of the room. She was sitting at a table on a stage, next to Freddie, the director, and Nathaniel, the other principal dancer with the company. In front of them there were five rows of seats, filled with reporters. A couple of roving photographers were taking pictures. He had even seen a television camera being set up.

  She looked composed, but he could see that she was rattled. Her large brown eyes were wider than usual, and he noticed that she was pale beneath the thick makeup she had applied. He remembered his mother referring to makeup as war paint once, and he was struck by how apt that description was now. It was as if Maya had applied it to go into battle.

  He kicked himself. He shouldn’t have been so curt with her when she acted surprised that he knew a quote from Shakespeare. It wasn’t as if he was a Shakespeare buff, anyway. It was just a line that he had remembered from when he had studied Romeo and Juliet in high school English class that had somehow lodged in his brain. He wasn’t passionate about books, not in the slightest.

  He had been enjoying listening to her talk about the ballet. Her brown eyes had gleamed, and he could see how much she loved what she did. She had also forgotten her nerves for a while, which had been his intention when he asked about it. And then, he had gone and ruined it all, probably making her twice as nervous as she had been before.

  He didn’t really think she was a snob. Oh, at first he had assumed she was like that; but he had gotten to know her better. She was a warm woman, and she had shown her vulnerability when she had confided in him about what she had seen that terrible night.

  Perhaps she was right. He was the one who was the snob. He was judging her and acting defensively around her. She didn’t deserve it.

  Evan slowly walked around the room, watching carefully. He had to forget about it, for now, just as she was. His job was to protect her and see if anything suspicious was around.

  Maya was answering a question now. She looked the reporter directly in the eye and smiled. Evan could see that she was on top of it. She talked confidently, and he could feel the crowd warming towards her. Maya Roberts was a star, there was no doubt about it. She had that charisma that could sway people towards her, even when she was feeling self-doubt.

  And he knew the real woman behind the persona. She was every bit as wonderful as anything she was presenting here.

  Freddie was speaking, now, and Maya sat back. She picked up the glass of water in front of her, drinking carefully. He could see her hand shaking, ever so gently, but she was controlling that too.

  Suddenly, she stared directly at him. Her brown eyes were cold. And then, she was asked another question, and she turned back to the front.

  Evan’s heart sank. She wouldn’t forgive him quickly. He had stuffed up, there was no doubt about that. Suddenly, he grew angry at himself. What did it matter, what Maya Roberts thought of him? She was just a woman, and he was just working a case. It would soon be over, like they all were, and he would never see her again.

  Evan didn’t understand why the thought of never seeing her again pierced his heart sharply like an arrow, lodging so deep that he could barely take a breath.

  Focus, he told himself fiercely. She is just a woman.

  But he knew that it simply wasn’t true.

  She was an exceptional woman. And a woman who would probably never give him the time of day again.

  ***

  Maya walked into the shopping mall, staring in dismay at the huge poster behind the table that she was meant to sit at.

  It was a blown-up photo of her and Nathaniel, dressed in costume for Giselle. Nathaniel was slightly behind her in the picture, with his arms around her. She, on the other hand, was staring directly at the camera. Her face was hard, and her gaze malevolent. She didn’t look like herself at all. And behind them was a group of dancers, all advancing on them, as if they were about to swoop down and kill them. The Wilis. The spirits of the vengeful women, with Leonie as Myrtha, the Queen.

  It wasn’t the photo, though, that disturbed her. Even if she didn’t think that it captured the essence of Giselle, the character, at all. Giselle was supposed to forgive her lover, even if she had been swayed by the Wilis. No, it was the headline emblazoned on top of it, which made her stare.

  Come and see Giselle, it pronounced. The original Fatal Attraction!

  Maya frowned. Who had authorised it? It must have been Freddie, but she couldn’t see why he would link the classic ballet with the film about a vengeful woman who tries to kill her lover. It was so…tacky. And it gave the wrong impression. The character of Giselle wasn’t a bunny boiler, even if the Wilis were. Kind of.

  She sat down at the table, next to Freddie.

  “What do you think of the poster?” he asked, his eyes gleaming.

  “I don’t know,” she replied, frowning.

  “Now, Maya,” he said. “You must realise that if we want to attract a broader audience, we have to give them a reason to come. None of them are probably familiar with the story of Giselle.”

  “Yes,” she said, slowly, looking back at it doubtfully. “But you make it sound as if Giselle is a carbon copy of that film, and it’s not at all.” She paused. “People might be misled.”

  “Does it matter?” He stared at her. “It’s just something to reel them in, get them to engage with the story. Once they come, they will forget all about the film.” He took a deep breath. “It’s clever publicity, Maya.”

  She nodded but bit her lip. She wasn’t sure about Freddie’s vision for promoting the ballet. It seemed somehow cheap and nasty. But then, Freddie was concerned about putting bottoms on seats and ensuring the survival of the company. Maybe she just had to move with the times.

  She looked at the people walking by clutching shopping bags, who were staring curiously at them. They were probably wondering as much as she was what a ballet company was doing, spruiking for business in a suburban shopping mall. Or perhaps they were just expecting to see familiar faces. The cast of a popular soap television series, or a boy band. The usual types who did the shopping mall circuit.

  Maya started colouring. This was probably going to be embarrassing, to say the least. What was she even supposed to say? She could just imagine the conversations she might have: “No, I haven’t based my performance on Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. Thanks for asking!”

  She saw Evan, hovering at the side. He was staring at the poster, a mocking smile on his face. Her face burned deeper. She could just imagine what he thought of it.

  She took a deep breath. She had to stop thinking about Evan and seeking some kind of approval from him. For starters, she was never going to get it. Evan had made it very clear in the limousine what he thought of her: a stuck-up princess who rarely left her ivory tower to see how the real people lived. His contempt for her had been like a slap in the face.

  And she wasn’t what he thought. Yes, she had been brought up in a privileged home, and yes, she was a ballet dancer. But that didn’t mean that she was out of touch with real life. It was just a different life, and he had no right to judge her on it. She didn’t judge his life, after all.

  Not that she knew anything about his life, other than the fact that he was a security guard. He had never offered any information, and she had never asked. But then, they had only just started to speak normally to each other, like any man and woman. Since she had broken down in the costume room and revealed what she had seen to him.

  She s
till couldn’t believe that she had told him. But he had been so gentle with her and hadn’t acted as if he was about to call up for a van to drag her to the nearest mental hospital. Now, the intimacy that her confession had evoked that day was just a distant memory.

  They were back to being adversaries again. She was the princess, and he was the peasant. Some kind of stupid class war that shouldn’t exist in this day and age.

  She had to stop thinking about him. He despised her, and deep down she knew it could never work. While she didn’t think she was superior, they were from very different worlds. She could just imagine her parent’s faces if she ever introduced him to them. They would sneer—there was no doubt about that. Take her aside and tell her that she couldn’t possibly date a man like Evan. That she must focus on her career, and if one day she decided to fall in love, then it must be with a suitable man. Someone like her father.

  Maya suddenly felt alone and lonely. As if she lived within the bars of an invisible cage that she could never hope to break free from.

  If only Evan didn’t stand there, dangling the keys in front of her face.

  Maya gasped. Why had she thought that? It was a physical attraction, pure and simple. And it was just like the clouds—it would pass away, eventually. There was nothing more to it, was there?

  The man who was hired to introduce them began speaking, appealing to the shoppers to put down their bags and listen. A classic meet and greet. Slowly, people started approaching, until a decent sized crowd had formed.

  Maya stared out at the crowd. They all looked bored and tired. They didn’t care about the ballet. For them, they were just stopping to listen to break the monotony of the day. A pit stop, in between the department store and the food court.

  She didn’t think that this was going to be very successful, somehow.

  She gazed at the others, sitting alongside her. Freddie was animated, as always. Nathaniel looked affronted, as if he had never stepped into a shopping mall in his life and never wanted to again. And then there was Leonie, sitting at the end. Sipping her water and staring into the crowd. Maya couldn’t read what her thoughts were on the matter.