One Perfect Pirouette (16 page)

chapter 25

We ate soup and toasted sandwiches, then while Tam had a shower, Mum and I sat in my bedroom. ‘Why did you go and see Ms Ellergren without telling me?' she said.

‘I don't know. You were with Dad and I didn't want to bother you. I didn't want to make things worse by you having to worry about ballet stuff.' I stared out the window; I didn't want to look at her face in case I started to cry. ‘Ms Ellergren was really nice about it.'

‘But you told her you were pulling out of the audition.'

‘Yeah, well – I have to. If Dad can't work for a while and you have to look after him when he comes out of hospital, we'll have no money. And there won't be time for me to go to all the program classes.'

‘Brynnie, the money is not a problem. Dad's wages will be covered by work insurance. And I certainly don't expect you to give up ballet to help me with housework. That'd be the very last thing I'd want you to do. Housework! Yuck!'

I tried to laugh, but it came out all wobbly. ‘But I thought –'

‘What?' She took hold of my hand and squeezed it. ‘Tell me.'

‘I thought Dad was going to die!' A big sob burst out of me and I hated the sound of it. I wanted to be tough and brave, not a wuss.

‘Did you think giving up your ballet audition was going to save him?'

‘No! Of course not. But it seemed like you and Dad had given up our house and your jobs and everything to come here for me, and I just thought what I wanted was too much. That I had to give something up, to make things balance out again.'

I hadn't really thought about it like that when I'd gone to see Ms Ellergren, but now, as it came out of my mouth, I could see that was exactly how I'd worked it out and why I'd done it.

‘What happened to your dad could've happened anywhere. There were times at his job in Bendigo when he could've got hurt, just like now. We might get run over walking down the street, for heaven's sake.' She sighed. ‘We all have our own path, you know, our own lives. Things like your dad's accident don't happen because you have big, wonderful things happen in your life. The universe isn't like that.'

I blew my nose, struggling to accept what she'd said. ‘But it still affects all of us.'

‘Of course it does. But it's not a balancing act. Having something great happen doesn't mean the next thing will be horrible. And remember,' she said, touching the tip of my nose with her finger, ‘an accident really is just an accident. Being good enough and working so hard to get ready for the audition is a big achievement, something you did all on your own.'

‘Too late now.' My chest hurt and my fingernails dug into my palms. If Mum was serious, it meant I had given up the audition for nothing. I'd lost my place because I told Ms Ellergren I couldn't do it, when it was actually okay. What had I done?

‘Of course it's not too late,' Mum said. ‘Ms Ellergren rang me last night and talked to me about it. She understood what had happened, and how you thought you were doing the right thing. She hadn't called the NBS to cancel, just in case.'

‘What?' I was on a roller-coaster, racing back up to the top, into light again. I couldn't believe it. I could still audition? I jumped off the bed. ‘Tell me you're not just saying that to cheer me up. Tell me it's true!'

‘It's true.' Mum stood up and cupped my face in her hands. And that was the only thing that stopped me from hopping up and down like a demented frog. ‘It's true, and you'll be terrific.'

‘Thanks, Mum, thanks a million, million times. You don't know how much this means to me.'

‘Oh, I've got a vague idea.' She laughed. ‘Now, get changed and let's go and see your dad. If you're lucky, you might even get a smile out of him.'

I pulled off my dance clothes and found some jeans and a sweatshirt that were reasonably clean, but it was hard to get them on. I felt like electricity was zipping through me, and it made me want to sing and dance and throw myself round the room like a maniac. Except my room was so small that I would have knocked myself out.

Dad was still in the ICU, but his eyes were open. When we went in to see him, I could tell he sensed we were there, but he couldn't see us until we got right to his bed. His head and neck were being held tightly in place. Mum had explained that was because his neck was damaged and had to be supported until it healed more.

He still looked scarily un-Dad to me. Too many tubes and bandages, and he was too still. He focused on me and blinked.

‘Hi, Dad,' I said. And then I couldn't think of anything else to say. What did you say? How's the view? All he could see was the ceiling. How are you feeling? He was on big doses of pain-killers so he couldn't feel anything. When are you going to get better? He couldn't answer that. So I just smiled and let Mum take my place.

She held his free hand. ‘Hi, Mike, I'm back again.' He blinked twice. ‘We're all here this time. Orrin and Tam are over there.' Orrin waved, Tam grinned. ‘How are you feeling'

Dad just blinked a few times.

Mum kept talking, telling him all the things we'd been doing, which wasn't much, but she filled in about ten minutes, along with Uncle Tony chipping in. Then she said, ‘It's Brynna's audition on Friday. Won't be long before we can all go and watch her dance on stage.'

The electric feeling came back and I tried hard not to fidget. I'd missed the last class. All that was left now was the audition. Was I ready? I felt like I'd never be ready, ever. I stretched my legs way out and arched my feet, banging against the wall, and pulled them back quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But Mum had. ‘We'll have to go in a minute,' she said. ‘Time's nearly up, so you boys had better come and say hello to your dad.'

They shuffled over and muttered a few things to Dad, who blinked. I took Orrin's place by the bed to say goodbye, then Mum shooed us out, but not before I saw tears slide out of the corners of Dad's eyes and down the side of his face. I went back and leant down to give him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Hurry up and get better, Dad,' I said. ‘We need you.'

He blinked three times at me and his eyes crinkled up a bit. That was the closest he could get to a smile, but it was enough for me. He
was
going to get better! Everything would be okay. It would just take time, like Mum said.

I might as well not have gone to school on Thursday. My brain had moved to another planet and all I could think about was the auditions. The others would be at the School in South Melbourne, getting changed, putting on their ballet shoes, checking their ribbons, smoothing their hair, stretching and warming up.

What would it be like? How many people watched you, judged you? I imagined Stephanie tripping and falling flat on her face, and stopped in case I jinxed myself. Mrs Nguyen must've thought I was still worried about Dad. When she asked me questions and I couldn't answer, because I hadn't been listening, she didn't get mad with me, just moved on to the next person.

At home, I wandered around the house like a lost cloud. I couldn't settle to anything. And just as I'd decided to get out the lino and do some practice, the phone rang.

‘Hello.'

‘Is that Brynna?'

‘Yes.' I didn't recognise the voice.

‘I thought you'd like to know the auditions were really hard, and I don't think you're going to be good enough. So maybe you should withdraw now, so you won't embarrass yourself.'

Shock made me dumb for a few seconds. Stephanie! How dare she! Then a cold, brittle anger speared through me like an icicle. ‘Obviously you made a complete idiot of yourself, Stephanie, and don't have a hope of getting in.'

She gasped. ‘I'm a certainty. Mum said I was. So did Ms Ellergren.'

‘Ms Ellergren would never say that to anyone, least of all you.' I wanted to be really nasty to her, as nasty as she was to me, but suddenly I pitied her and that was what popped out of my mouth. ‘I feel sorry for you.'

‘What? What do you mean?'

I couldn't explain it, so I hung up the phone and found my hand was shaking so much that the receiver rattled. And my stupid brain immediately said,
Maybe she's right. Maybe you should give up now.

Pain shot through my head and I crouched down against the wall, my arms wrapped around me.
I will not cry, I will not cry, she's not worth it.

‘Whassa matter?' Tam said, crashing past me on his way to the fridge. ‘You feeling sick or something?'

‘I'm fine,' I mumbled.

Orrin ambled in behind him. ‘Brynnie, what's up?'

Why didn't they leave me alone? Then I could crumble and die in peace.

Strong hands lifted me up. Orrin peered into my face. ‘Why are you crying? Dad's going to be fine.'

I sniffed. ‘I know.'

‘Who was that on the phone?'

‘Nobody.'

‘Garbage.' He sat me down at the table. ‘Tam, get her a drink of water.'

A glass of water slopped in front of me.

‘What's wrong?' Orrin glanced at Tam. ‘We won't leave you alone until you tell us.'

‘Stephanie – this girl in my ballet class. She had her audition today.' I sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. ‘She called and – she said it was really hard and I wouldn't be good enough, so I might as well pull out now.'

‘Is this the same girl who cut up your shoes?'

‘How did you know?' I stared at him.

‘Mum filled us in,' Tam said. He sat across from me, slouched in the chair. ‘So why are you being such a wuss? Tell her to get stuffed.'

‘Well, I tried, but –'

‘You'll blow them outta the water,' Tam said. ‘Stop worrying.'

‘I will?'

‘Geez, course you will,' he huffed. ‘You've got the star factor, like big bro here. I don't know why you're worrying about it, or taking any notice of Miss Snotty.'

‘Who says I'm a star?' Orrin snapped.

The last thing I needed was fighting brothers.

‘Look, I know I'm a dud,' Tam said. ‘Can't play footy, hate the city, no good at school. That's cool.'

‘You're not a dud!' I said.

Orrin folded his arms and said, ‘Is that why you bolted back to Bendigo? Couldn't stand the pressure of having to make an effort?'

‘That's bulldust!' Tam cried, his face flushing. ‘I'm just not like you guys, that's all. No one says I have to be.'

‘That's right,' said Orrin. ‘But no one said you have to use us as an excuse to drop out and be a loser, either.' Now his face was red, too, and his eyes flashed.

‘I'm doing fine,' Tam said. ‘I'm doing what I want.'

‘Which is what? Sponging off Uncle Tony? Getting detention for not doing homework?'

‘That was before. We've sorted it out now. I've started the apprenticeship at the blacksmithing place. Old Teddy says I'm good at it.'

‘Are you going to stick at it?' Orrin asked. I hid a grin – he sounded just like Dad.

‘Course I am!'

‘Good.' He turned to me. ‘And you can ignore what Miss Snotty said and focus on getting your head in the right place for tomorrow, okay?'

I saluted. ‘Yes, sir!'

‘Smarty.' He took a fake swipe at my head and grinned. ‘I've got footy training. Brynna needs to work on her audition stuff. So that means you're cooking dinner, Tam.'

‘Me?'

‘Him?' That was going to be a first and maybe a dangerous one.

‘Mum said there are two meat pies in the freezer. Follow the instructions on the packet and peel some spuds. Lots of them. I'm off.'

Tam opened the freezer, grumbling to himself, and I escaped to the garage, but despite what my two brothers had told me, Stephanie's voice echoed inside my head and my practice went badly. When I overbalanced on an arabesque and nearly twisted my ankle, I knew it was time to stop.

Sleep that night was a long time coming. Even visiting Dad and seeing his eyes open, blinking yes and no in response to Mum and feeling him squeeze my hand for luck, hadn't kept up my spirits. I wanted the audition to be over, or I wanted someone to announce that it was cancelled. Anything except having to actually go through with it!

And as for Stephanie – her voice still echoed in my head. I knew she was jealous, but she said the audition was really hard, that I wasn't up to it.

Mrs Calzotti's voice echoed in my mind, something she'd said to me at my last class with her, something I'd ignored at the time, thinking she was being a bit over the top.
Everyone wants to be the prima ballerina, even in dance class. You will meet many dancers who would wish a broken ankle onto you. That is where you will have to learn to be tougher.

Tam was right. I was being a wuss, letting Stephanie upset me, especially when that had been her whole aim. I punched my pillow into shape and settled down to sleep.

chapter 26

When I woke up on Friday morning,
Audition Day!
flashed in my brain like a neon sign, and I jumped out of bed. The house felt strangely empty, even though it was nearly eight. I heard Orrin and Tam talking, a low rumble through their bedroom wall, but there was no Uncle Tony on the couch in the lounge. And Mum wasn't in her bed either. They'd obviously gone back to the hospital – but why?

The phone on the wall didn't give me an answer. I made myself some toast and hot chocolate for breakfast and sat at the table, trying to force down the toast without much success. My throat was squeezed so tight that even the chocolate made me choke and cough. Finally I gave up and went to pack my bag for the audition. I put on my best leotard and tights, freshly washed – the instructions said to come ready, with warm clothes on top. In my bag went the new shoes that I'd bought, a drink bottle of water, an extra jacket to wear in case I got cold. Then I dressed in warm clothes over my ballet gear, and put my runners on.

My audition was at 11. The clock had sped around to 9.05 already and Mum still wasn't home. Why didn't she call? I'd have to go to the Ballet School on the bus. What if I caught the wrong one, or there was a traffic jam? Didn't Mum have to be with me at the audition?

When I heard our car in the driveway a couple of minutes later, the relief rolled through me in a huge rush and I had to sit down. Mum burst in through the front door, pulling off her jacket and scarf, her face pale. ‘Oh Brynna, I'm sorry. I hope you're all ready.'

‘Where were you?' I cried.

‘At the hospital. Come on, let's go.' She didn't stop to brush her hair or have breakfast, just grabbed her best black winter coat and headed back to the car. As I followed her, I heard Orrin and Tam yell, ‘Good luck!' and it made me smile.

Mum put the car into gear and we roared up our street and around the corner, and were on our way into the city centre. ‘Westgate Bridge will be quickest,' she muttered, signaling and changing lanes. I huddled down in my seat, hugging my bag to my chest.

When it seemed that she'd calmed down a bit and was driving slower, I asked, ‘Why were you at the hospital so early? Is something wrong with Dad?'

She glanced sideways at me and bit her lip, but said nothing.

‘Mum, come on. I can tell you're upset. Keeping it a secret won't make me any less nervous about the audition. It'll make me worse!'

She sighed, a big ragged sigh. ‘Your dad's lapsed back into a coma. They had to operate again early this morning. There was a swelling under his skull that could've been a clot and they had to relieve the pressure.'

‘Is he going to die?' My voice came out all wobbly.

‘No, of course not!' She coughed and sighed again. ‘It's something that happens with head injuries – they were on the lookout for it, and they caught it in time, so that's good.'

‘But?'

‘We have to wait now and trust they'll be able to stop any further – problems.' She checked her watch. ‘Goodness, we'd better get a move on! Hope there's parking.'

‘There is,' I said. ‘The school's got a car park underneath it.'

‘That's right,' Mum said. ‘Now, Brynna, I know it's going to be hard to focus on the audition with the worry about Dad, but you have to. Dad, of all people, would want you to do your absolute best and succeed. He certainly wouldn't want to think that his being injured meant you – well – stuffed it up.'

‘I know.' And I did know she was right, but the dull, leaden feeling was back in my legs and arms and I wondered how I'd even get out of the car, let alone dance. Couldn't I put the audition off till Dad was better? I knew it wasn't possible. I had to go through with it, even if I made a complete mess of it. There was always next year.

It seemed like we parked, went up in the lift and were at the front desk, being ticked off a list, within about ten seconds. Mum helped me pin numbers on my front and back – 15 – was that lucky or not? I barely had time to look around at the photos and displays before she gave me a big hug and said, ‘Knock them dead, Brynnie!' in my ear, and left. I was surrounded by about sixteen girls and a few boys. Most of them seemed smaller than me, although there were some the same height. Instead of chattering, everyone was strangely quiet, sneaking glances at each other and making faces.

A few minutes later, a woman came and led us through a glass door and down a long hall; I hardly had time to stare around me, but I glimpsed a classroom with some computers in it, and a little room with exercise bikes and drink machines. The woman showed us a long row of photos on the wall, and pointed to two of them. ‘This is who will be assessing you today,' she said. ‘Ms Ballantyne and Ms Carr.' I sucked in my breath. I recognised both of them – they were famous! Ms Ballantyne was the Director of the Ballet School. My heart skittered in my chest and I put my hand over it to try and calm it down.

We stopped in front of a set of white double doors. ‘This is Studio Three,' she said. ‘You can all go in now and warm up. Don't be nervous. You'll be fine.' She gave us a big smile and ushered us in.

‘Don't be nervous, you'll be fine.' Who was she kidding? My legs had gone from lead to jelly, but I tottered into the studio, took my jacket and shoes off and put them in one of the pigeonholes. I closed my eyes and tried deep breathing, visualising Ms Ellergren smiling at me, but it didn't work. All that I could see was Dad lying in the hospital bed with his eyes closed, machines beeping. I didn't want him to die!

I swallowed hard, past the lump in my throat and went to the barre against the wall to start my warm-up. Stretch, bend, flex, stretch, bend, flex. The studio wasn't as big as I expected and I could hear the others whispering and giggling around me. Stretch, bend, flex – how were my arms? Oops, there I was – the mirrored wall was right in front of me and I hadn't even noticed it! Yes, arms looked okay, even if they felt jerky. Back straight, head up. Focus, I had to focus.

Right then, instead of seeing Dad in the hospital bed, unconscious, I saw him the day he came to help me at the youth hall, watching me from the doorway and clapping. ‘Lovely,' he'd said, and his face had been glowing.

‘Lovely,' I whispered to myself. ‘For Dad.'

‘Is everyone ready?' a voice said.

I quickly took my track pants off, stowed them away, turned and smiled. Even the sight of two elegant women sitting behind a table on the other side of the room, gazing at us, only made me waver for a couple of seconds. Then I stepped forward, my mind calm, my body fizzing lightly with energy.

It was now or never!

I'm not sure what I expected – complicated dance routines? Gruelling tests? Instead, it was just like a normal class. A man with an accent was our teacher and he was incredibly patient, taking us through familiar exercises, watching and directing. We were all trying to keep clear of each other, trying not to copy – or I was, at least. If I was going to make any mistakes, they'd be my own! The piano boomed out the notes, the woman playing it focused on watching the teacher and waiting for instructions.

Finally, after nearly an hour, the class had finished. Then we lined up and were each closely examined by either Ms Ballantyne or Ms Carr. I stood in front of Ms Ballantyne, as straight as I could, not sure if the sweat trickling down my back was from the class or my nerves. She asked me to stretch and bend, looking at parts of my body, getting me to turn my hips out to test rotation, and checking my insteps and my Achilles tendons. After each part, she'd tick a box on the form in front of her. Finally she smiled and said, ‘Thank you, Brynna, we'll be in touch.'

Suddenly the audition was over. Some of the others were still lining up for their physical examination, but I was free to go. I felt as light as a cloud, taking off my shoes and my numbers, putting on my jacket, drifting out along the corridor. The world seemed unreal, fuzzy around the edges and incredibly bright and clear in front of me. When I found Mum waiting in the reception area, I had to blink a few times to make sure she was actually there.

‘How did it go?' she asked, her eyebrows raised high, her face expectant.

‘Good – I think.' I held my hands out wide. ‘I've done it. I can't undo it now. I just have to keep my fingers and toes and everything else crossed.'

‘Don't do that,' she said, grinning. ‘We won't find out for a while yet.'

‘I won't be able to wait!' How did anyone stand the not knowing? Did your life just stop until the letter arrived?

‘It'll pass before you know it. Let's head home and then I'm going back to the hospital.' As she pressed the button for the lift, the reality of Dad in a coma crashed down on me again. I wrapped my jacket tightly around me, stared down at my feet, back in their pink and white runners. I'd done my best; now Dad had to do his.