Silhouette

by Thalia Kalkipsakis

  Soon the noise drops in the auditorium and I catch a familiar voice above the rest. It’s Jack, though I can’t make out what he’s saying. Not long after, calm voices drift through from the main part of the theatre, the dull clunk each time a seat is pushed open to sit. A cough every now and then.

  Bodies move like ghosts in front of me, hidden in the shadows of the wings. Their energy is so strong that I feel it against my skin. A couple of them drift close and whisper break a leg. Izzy does a gawky thumbs up and funny face.

  Then the atmosphere shifts as the curtains open. Music starts up. The shadows that were with me disappear into the light.

  In my head, I chart out the program. Five more numbers … four. The closer we come, the harder it is to stay still.

  That’s it. I can’t stand it anymore. I slip out from behind my tea chest, my heart pounding. I stretch as much as I dare, with an eye on the backstage door.

  No-one comes, and soon I’m watching the number just before mine, circling my ankles and shaking nerves from my hands.

  Through the twirling white tutus I see Paige move off and into the wings on the opposite side from me, stripping for the fastest costume changes of all time. In another universe, that would have been me …

  But I don’t want to think about that now.

  It’s nearly time. I take a breath, adrenaline rising, and reconnect with steps that yesterday I thought I’d never perform. After so many years of sweat and bleeding blisters, it’s down to a single solo.

  In the quiet of the blackout I step onstage, my back to the audience but keenly aware of their presence.

  The lights come up and I lift my leg, knee first, before unfolding it in a high developpé that finishes with my leg behind my shoulder.

  There’s a murmur from the audience.

  I swivel on my toes and for the first time face the front. I’m bald, slim and dressed in black. All they would see is the outline of my body lit from behind, none of my features, just a silhouette. This is all that I am.

  The opening bars play out and for an awful second, I hesitate. Go blank. It’s been so long since I last rehearsed this piece. A lifetime ago. Before I was suspended. Before my whole world crumbled. So much has been stripped away that I’m not sure what’s left.

  To one side I can see Paige, standing in character. Watching. Just slightly her head dips, urging me on.

  I take a single breath. In the tense hush of a full house, I step forwards. The music is all around me, breathing life into my body. The steps come to me naturally and I find myself mixing and blending them with the ones from last night when I was improvising in the studio alone. This is what happened, and this is how it felt.

  I reach the chorus and I fall smoothly into the next sequence, allowing the shadows and sharp edges to reach up and out through my limbs. I’m light, on the balls of my feet, cool air on my scalp. There’s no question of missing any of these steps; they are mine like no others.

  As I dance, I’m aware of eyes tracking my moves, minds concentrating on the shapes of my body. I pull the audience closer with each moment, feeling calmness around me, a kind of stillness reaching through the space.

  Too soon, we come to the final beats. I’ve given it everything and I’m out the other side.

  Then all is quiet. For a moment I don’t move.

  Slowly, I pull out of the hold. A sprinkling of clapping begins, growing in volume and urgency. I take a single curtsey, and pad offstage as the applause peaks, continuing for four seconds, five …

  Piano notes for the next piece begin as Grant pulls me into a hug. Someone pats me on the bum – Izzy, of course – before she disappears back onstage.

  And here I am again, anonymous, in the shadows, still buzzing from the spotlight.

  For a while I watch the others, transported, not wanting it to be over. They move through the number from Cats, then the pas de deux with Tadpole and Paige. The audience falls even more quiet tonight. We’re into the finale when a new shape appears beside me, taking up more space than the others.

  Jack.

  In the dimness of the wings, he taps me on the shoulder, motioning for me to follow.

  He leads me down the stairs and into the warm-up area. The music from the performance becomes faint and tinny above us.

  We stop walking and Jack faces me, shoulders broad and square. I breathe in. ‘I know what you’re going to say, and I’m sorry, but this is just something I had to do.’

  ‘It’s okay, Scarlett. Your mum warned me.’ There’s a smile in his voice.

  ‘You knew?’

  Jack’s eyes meet mine as he nods. ‘We had a long talk. She told me a lot of things, actually.’

  ‘So I’m not in trouble?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know about that. Oscar’s in the audience.’

  I shrug. ‘It’s not like he can do much more to wreck everything.’

  Jack’s eyes flicker up to my bald head, then back to my face. ‘I wish you’d come to me about all this. I might have been able to help.’

  The tone in his voice makes my cheeks flush. I would’ve spoken to him if I’d known what to say.

  ‘No matter how bad it seems, you can always find help, Scarlett. If not me, then someone else. I promise you, it’s never as bad as you think.’

  I meet his gaze and nod. I hear more applause from above. In some ways it is that bad. More questions than ever hang over my chance at a career. But tonight, I danced for myself. No matter what happens, I’ll always have that. ‘Did you see me up there?’

  ‘Yeah it was … something.’

  ‘Good?’

  Jack’s eyes crinkle as he nods. ‘Worth the trouble.’

  I’m smiling when the door clunks and footsteps patter down the stairs. Beaming faces in black and red burst into the space. Jack is surrounded by bodies and energy.

  ‘Did you see the last number?’

  ‘It went off!’

  ‘It’s over … omigosh, I can’t believe it’s over!’

  Drink bottles are tipped and gulped. There’s a smell of sweat and foundation in the air.

  Izzy bounces in front of me. ‘We should have pulled you up for the curtain call! I didn’t think of it until now.’

  ‘Nah, it’s okay,’ I smile. ‘I got just what I wanted.’

  She wraps an arm around my neck. ‘You were amazing up there. I can’t believe we got away with it.’

  When she pulls back I find Paige standing to the side of us. No words, just her cool steady gaze.

  ‘Get ready and then come up to the foyer, yeah?’ asks Izzy before slipping away.

  Paige steps forwards – tall, elegant, somehow older. ‘Your solo,’ she says quietly. ‘It was … beautiful. I didn’t know you’d been working on new steps.’

  ‘Thanks, Paige.’ For a moment I wonder what she must be feeling about next year. Relief? Or the weight of expectation?

  ‘Come up to the foyer with me?’ she asks. ‘I can introduce you to people from the NBC. We can explain what happened.’

  For some reason it makes my heart sink. ‘No … thanks but, I don’t think –’

  ‘No, I mean it.’ Cool hands press on my shoulders. ‘I’ve been thinking about this. I’ll be competing with other dancers for the rest of my life.’ Her narrow face leans close to mine, her voice lowered. ‘I’d rather it was you than anyone else.’

  For a moment I don’t answer. It’s hard to explain. ‘It’s just … I don’t think the NBC is the right place for me anymore.’

  ‘Then what are you going to do?’ Paige asks.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I say, smoothing a hand over my head.

  ‘But … do you think we’ll be okay?’

  This time, I’m ready to answer. ‘Paige, we’ll be fine.’ I pull her into a hug.

  ‘Everyone changed and up, ASAP!’ calls Jack. ‘You never know who you might meet out there!’

  With the others around me, I peel off my leotard and tights, and wipe away the bulk of the make-up. I’m not e
ven meant to be here, so I don’t plan to go up to the foyer. But Paige jerks her head asking me if I’ll come up, and I think of Mum. Maybe Natasha is here. I don’t have much to wear, just jeans and a shirt. What you see is what you get, at least.

  Together with Paige and Izzy I tip-tap up to the foyer. High heels all round, except for me. Perfume and deodorant f loat about us.

  It’s buzzing up here, so many voices talking at once. Evening gowns and suits are here in among more casual clothes. Waiters in white shirts move between the groups, holding out tall bubbling glasses. I easily pick out the dancers. There’s a relaxed poise in the way they stand that could only come from years of working with their bodies.

  Beside me, Paige squeaks before disappearing into her dad’s arms.

  ‘There you are!’ Izzy’s mum sidles close. Two teenage sons trail after her, both wearing suits and frowns. ‘Congratulations, honey,’ she says to Izzy.

  I can just make out Mum at the far side of the room, laughing with Natasha.

  ‘Scarlett! I almost didn’t recognise you!’ Izzy’s mum pats my head. ‘So soft!’ Her hand slides to my cheek. ‘Where have you been these past months? We haven’t seen you for so long.’

  ‘Ma … we’ve been busy!’ moans Izzy.

  ‘Well, you have to come round as soon as exams are over. I’ll make my lasagne …’ Her tone is exactly the same as when we were twelve.

  It makes me smile. ‘That would be great.’

  I motion to Izzy, letting her know I’m going to find Mum, then chart a roundabout path between the groups. A couple of people turn my way as I pass, but I keep my focus away from curious eyes. It’s easy to pick Mr Winchester from behind, so I give him a wide berth. Not that he’d make a scene in here; these are the people who intimidate him most.

  The whole time I just keep my focus on Mum as she nods with Natasha, smiling, relieved. Watching them, an idea forms in my mind. A path I could call my own.

  Mum’s face softens when she sees me. ‘Scarlett.’ As I reach into a hug – unusual for us in public – she whispers in my ear, ‘You stole the show.’

  I pull back, and turn to Natasha. ‘Thanks for coming.’

  She nods once, but all else about her is the frozen ice-queen. ‘I hear you’ve been in the gossip pages.’

  Straight into it, I see. I don’t shy away. ‘I can assure you that’s all over now.’

  Natasha takes her time, scanning the room before turning back to me, her eyes lingering over my shaved head. ‘Well, I’m glad to hear that.’

  No mention of the show, or my solo. There’s an awkward pause as I clear my throat and shift from one foot to the other. ‘You must be about to move to the new company?’

  ‘Next week.’

  ‘I was wondering … whether you’d be willing to consider me as one of the dancers.’

  I can feel Mum’s reaction beside me as Natasha’s eyebrows go up. ‘That’s a change of heart,’ she says carefully.

  ‘Well …’ I glance at Mum, who nods slightly. ‘I haven’t approached anyone else.’

  Natasha looks past me, nodding at Jack. ‘I’ll catch you in a bit!’ he calls to her, hand raised before extending it to greet a man in a black suit.

  I keep going. It’s now or never. ‘Look, I know I have a lot to learn, but I’m willing to work hard. I’m asking for this chance because I’d do anything to work with you again.’

  It’s not about where I’d be dancing, but who I’d be dancing with.

  I’ve just hit her with the mother of all compliments, but Natasha accepts it as a given. ‘So you’re giving up on the NBC, just like that?’

  It’s a test, I think. Her face is so hard to read. All I can do is tell the truth. ‘If you move back to the National Ballet, then I’ll knock down their door.’

  She nods, her eyes creasing in amusement before signalling someone in the group next to us. ‘Arthur?’

  A short, slim man in a tailored shirt angles his head our way. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Remember the solo about halfway through? No set. Just back lighting?’ She motions towards me. ‘She’s asking for an audition.’

  ‘Already?’ Arthur steps towards us, looking me up and down. ‘Well, your work is raw, but … expressive. I’d like to see more.’ He looks to Natasha who drops her chin slightly as agreement. ‘Here.’ He pulls a business card out of his shirt pocket. ‘We don’t have funding yet, we’ll be fighting for acceptance. But call me in a couple of weeks if you’re still interested in trying out.’

  I take the business card, beaming. ‘Thanks. I promise you, I will.’

  ‘Excuse me.’ Natasha smiles at Mum as Jack pulls her away.

  We just look at each other.

  ‘So that’s okay, with you? That I might work with Natasha?’

  Mum’s forehead creases, but then she nods. ‘You know, it’s fine. I’m proud of you.’ She breathes in slowly, a new calmness about her. ‘I think your dad would have been pleased.’

  I smile back and for a moment I imagine that I can feel him here, with us now rather than between us.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  To Hilary Rogers, who gave me my first and most recent break: a huge thank you. It’s been an amazing journey. The more I learn, the more I see how far I still have to go. Many thanks to Beth Hall for her patient and considered editorial support. It’s been a pleasure sharing the journey with you. Thanks also to Tash Besliev for giving this story the initial nod.

  A big thank you to Neil Adam at the Victorian College of the Arts Secondary School. He is one of those teachers who truly makes a difference to the lives of his students, and I am no exception. Thanks also to the students at VCASS who so enthusiastically and generously shared their hopes and fears: Bella Scott, Latisha Sparks and Hannah Dunlop. May your dancing lives be rich, and full of unexpected twists and turns.

  Finally, all my love and gratitude to my husband, Campbell, and our kids, Porter and Elm, for listening at each stage of the process and believing that I could make it to the end, even when I didn’t.

  Thalia Kalkipsakis grew up on a farm on the outskirts of Melbourne. It had a bush area down the back that was perfect for escaping and exploring. After a stint as a dancer, she edited websites and travel guides, but her biggest passion has always been writing.

  Thalia cut her teeth as a series author: Go Girl, Girlfriend Fiction, the nonfiction series It’s True and, most recently, Girl v the World. Her books have been translated into a variety of languages and sold into countries around the world. Her first venture beyond series writing is a collection of unconventional short stories called Head Spinners: Six stories to twist your brain. One story in the collection,‘It Began with a Tingle’, is a finalist in the Children’s Fiction category of the 2011 Aurealis Awards.

  These days Thalia lives in north-eastern Victoria with her husband and two children, and their two black cats.

  Silhouette is her first stand-alone novel for young adults.

  Silhouette

  published in 2012 by

  Hardie Grant Egmont

  Ground Floor, Building 1, 658 Church Street

  Richmond, Victoria 3121, Australia

  www.hardiegrantegmont.com.au

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means without the prior permission of the publishers and copyright owner.

  A CiP record for this title is available from the National Library of Australia.

  eISBN: 9781742739267

  Text copyright © 2012 Thalia Kalkipsakis

  Design copyright © 2012 Hardie Grant Egmont

  Cover design by em&jon design

  Text design and typesetting by Ektavo

 

 

 
-webkit-filter: grayscale(100%); -moz-filter: grayscale(100%); -o-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share