The Lost Ballet
Page 28
Chapter 28 – The Team Forms Up
First thing the next morning, while having coffee, Gwen called each team member and told them to be at The Hall at 10am; the Whosey had arrived and she was bringing him to meet them. She said he was eager to get to work, and also said she hoped all of them were equally eager to get to work and they caught her drift.
Pete descended the stairs of the June's house at 9am, wearing a two piece seersucker suit with a sky blue shirt, white tie, and buff colored alligator wingtips. Roger stared and Gwen smiled. She loved this guy. He said, “How’s this? I tried to educate myself about Charleston fashion.”
Gwen said, “One of your teammates is going to love this getup. That’s Gale, our resident fashionista. You want coffee?”
“You got any tea? East Indian Premier.”
Gwen didn’t have any East Indian Premier, but she found an old dried out Lipton bag that had been in the far back of the top cabinet for about twenty years. She brewed up, hoping it hadn’t been compromised by any roaches. Pete tolerated it.
The trio arrived at The Hall at 9:45, knowing the Ps would have been there for two hours. They were ballet geeks, in spades. Gwen, under The Whosey’s influence, had dressed in an emerald green silk pants suit, yellow pumps, and white scarf. Roger, less under the influence, was dressed in blue jeans, cordovan tassel loafers, and a simple, white silk button-down shirt. When Gale arrived and saw how Gwen was dressed, then looked at Townshend, she gave Gwen the eye, signifying that Gwen should have warned her about the day’s dress code.
As each team member arrived, they were introduced to The Whosey. Henric had decided to stay on shore for the day in order to meet the guy to whom he was paying five million dollars for services rendered. Everyone could see that Gwen was under a spell, and that portended good things for this collaboration. The Ps were relaxed because there was no place in Gwen’s tight pants suit for a gun. There were no bulges anywhere that weren’t organic and natural.
Finally, the entire team was together, all eleven of them. For Pete’s benefit, Gwen ran down the roster. “Let’s start with the guy who's making this possible and paying your salary. Henric Gromstov is from Saint Petersburg. He spends most of his time out on the water, wanting to sail around the world.”
Pete said, “Thank you, Henric. You’re a very important person.”
“Helstof is Henric’s wife, and our close friend. She cooks great French food, understands people very quickly and deeply, and is doing the costumes with Gale.” She didn’t add, “When they’re not out getting drunk at lunch. “Gale, this is Pete. He likes to dress up, as you can see. Pete, this is Gale, and she likes to dress up too. She’s not married, by the way.” Pete got up, crossed the circle of chairs to stand in front of Gale, and kissed her hand.
He said, “Very pleased to meet you. Maybe we can get dressed up together sometime.”
Gale had to bite her tongue not to say, “Rather get dressed down with you sometime, Pete. Anytime, in fact.” This flew over everyone’s heads except Gwen and Helstof, both of whom could see fireworks erupting from this duo. They wondered if Pete and Gale knew of the stricture that co-workers shouldn’t get involved. Gwen went on, “This is Peter and this is Pater. We call them the Ps. We met them in Saint Petersburg a year ago, and they came home with us.” She didn’t tell Pete they came to Charleston because the Russian police were after their asses for participating in a heist of artifacts from the Hermitage. “They both danced with the Mariinsky for several years, and are working with Selgey and Bart on the choreography. You can go to them if you need anything. This is Selgey and Bart. Selgey danced with the New York City Ballet company for a long time. Bart is from your neck of the woods, where he danced at Covent Garden, also for a long time. They retired together and moved to Charleston. We’re lucky to have them doing the choreography, which you’ll understand when you see them dance around here.” Lastly, she looked at the woman. “Our administrative officer came from the San Francisco Ballet. She thought she was retired here, but we got her interested in our project and she’s doing everything to get this project off the ground.”
Everyone sat back in their chair, getting accustomed to seeing the entire team together at last. Pete exuded energy, and the others felt his presence. They all wondered what this aging rock n roller would make out of the 1914 Stravinsky score. Could he do it? Could he transform this classical piece into something modern, something that would grab the world’s attention in a major way? Could he work with Selgey and Bart to meld music with movement? Gwen stood up, and all attention flowed away from Townshend and onto her. Those who had worked with her before knew what would happen next: She would do the Deneuvian thing. This was named after their friend who had a natural talent for influencing those around her, both men and women. Roger had seen Catherine Deneuve do this in France and in Charleston, and had watched as his wife learned the skill from her.
Slowly Gwen walked around the circle of chairs. The yellow pumps did their job, slightly changing her posture from one of natural grace to one of artistic grace. Her steps around the circle were slow. She took the white scarf from around her neck and held it in her hand. As she came in front of each person she looked them in the eyes, and let the scarf touch their laps. Her mouth expressed a smile; her eyes expressed intensity. At each man she bent down and kissed him on the cheek. At each woman, she took one of her hands in both of hers. As she completed her circumnavigation of the team, she went to the center of the circle, and said, “Tomorrow morning the project begins in earnest. This is all about achievement and commitment. We will achieve our goal of creating a world-class production of the Stravinsky ballet. We will bring the lost score to the world stage. We will contribute to our culture and society. We will succeed.” She turned 360 degrees as she said this, ending by facing Townshend. She pointed at him, with the scarf hanging from her hand. “Tomorrow, Pete, you start work on your greatest musical challenge. This production will cap your career. You and Selgey and Bart and the rest of us are going to shine. We have faith in you, and you will have faith in us. Tomorrow, it all begins.”
Gwen sat down in her chair, slipped off the pumps, tucked her feet under her, and nodded to her husband. Roger then nodded to the Ps, who went into the back office area and returned pushing two carts, one loaded with baskets and the other loaded with coolers. Quickly they set up folding tables in the middle of the circle, covered them with white table clothes taken from one of the baskets, and proceeded to lay out a spread of sandwiches and champagne. Roger popped the corks on two bottles and filled eleven glasses. Still in her chair with her legs tucked under her, looking relaxed and commanding at the same time, Gwen offered a toast: “Our great adventure begins. Music, dance, stories, art, performance. That's our quest, and our mutual work. To tomorrow!” Everyone drank. Then to Gale and Helstof, she said, “And this is the last time the two of you are going to get drunk at lunch for a long time.”