Roberta Leigh - My Hearts a Dancer

by Roberta Leigh

  ‘What on earth are you still practising for? You'll crack up if you keep on at this pace.'

  'I'll crack up if I don't! I beep remembering that debut I made In Australia.' She gave a shudder. 'I never want to go through anything like that again.'

  ‘You'd hardly had any rehearsals for the part,' he retorted. This one's quite different.' He strode over to her. Tor heaven's sake, Melanie, give it a rest.'

  ‘But the more I practise the more confidence I get.’

  ‘You've years ahead of you,’ he said softly. 'Don't try and beat Fonteyn in your first season as a ballerina!'

  Aware that he was still angry, she tried to leaven the conversation. There's nothing to stop me from trying!'

  He still did not smile at her teasing reply and, if anything, looked even more serious. 'Success never used to be so important to you, Melanie. What's got Into you?’

  She hesitated, wondering what he would say if he knew that her determination to be successful in her career was spurred on by a desire to prove to Gregory Ransome that she could attain everything she wanted by her own efforts. Yet to say this would only increase Anton's already strong dislike of the man, and unwilling to do so, she prevaricated.

  'Perhaps I've become more ambitious,' she said lightly. 'After all, it's what you've been preaching at me for ages.'

  'I never said you should work yourself to death! Practice won't make you any better than you are now. That will only come with experience and time.'

  She smiled crookedly, too tired to argue. 'All right, Anton, you're the Master.'

  His face underwent an abrupt change. 'Master! Must you always see me in terms of work? Can't you see me as a man?'

  Before she realized his intention, he pulled her into his arms and pressed his mouth hard on hers. Her first instinct was to draw back, but she forced herself to remain passive, knowing that if she showed any distaste he would never forgive her. But her pretence was wasted, for almost at once he pushed her away angrily.

  'You don't feel a thing for me, do you?'

  'I'm sorry.' She gestured helplessly. 'Maybe I - perhaps I'm frightened of being hurt again.'

  'You can't avoid emotion for the rest of your life. One day you'll fall in love again.'

  She turned away, wondering what he would say if he knew that this had already happened. 'Please, Anton, let's go home. I'm too tired to argue.'

  As the opening night drew nearer, Melanie was able to plead work as the reason for not going to see her mother-in-law. But even staying away from the house in Belgrave Square could not dim her memory of Gregory, nor the bitterness which she felt towards Lydia Fenwick.

  Madame Verenskaya, more than usually preoccupied with the Company, did not notice Melanie's tension or, if she did, put it down to pressure of work. And Melanie was glad that she did not have to put up a pretence in her own home. Not that she and Verenskaya spent much time there; by day they were at the theatre and at night they returned home too exhausted to do anything except have a simple meal and fall into bed.

  Melanie knew she was working at a pace she could not maintain, yet she refused to look beyond the next few weeks and hoped that as time passed she would gain more control over emotions which, at the moment, were destroying her peace of mind.

  How unsuspectingly she had fallen under Gregory Ran- some's spell! The thought tormented her, and she wondered whether it was a weakness or shallowness in her character that had made it possible for a man like him to capture her heart. Yet deep inside her she knew that had she only been searching for strength, she would have fallen in love with Anton in Australia.

  No, her feelings for Gregory were more than just a desire for a man on whom she could lean, and she admitted wearily that he was everything she had been searching for throughout her life: a man of strength yet also kindness - as she had witnessed in his attitude towards his aunt; a man of intelligence - as indicated by his successful career - and a man of wit and charm. But neither his kindness nor charm had been directed towards her, and apart from the fleeting compassion he had shown her when they had met outside Timothy's flat and the few teasing remarks he had made to her on the night of the dinner party, his attitude had been mainly one of implacable dislike.

  At last the Company's first night arrived, and Melanie locked herself in the tiny dressing-room she had been given and remained there until the callboy came to tell her she was wanted on stage. Nervously she sped down the corridor to the wings. The curtain was still lowered and she stepped on to the stage and peeped at the audience through a chink in the velvet.

  She had sent her mother-in-law four tickets and she stared up at the third box on the left, anxious to see whom Mrs. Ransome had invited. Herbert Fenwick and his daughter were seated on either side of her, while on Lydia's left sat another man, his face in shadow. Melanie strained her eyes, but she could not make out who it was.

  'It's Ransome all right,' Anton said behind her.

  Startled, she swung round. ‘What makes you think I—'

  'Your mind's an open book to me,' he interrupted, 'and as far as I can see, Ransome's name is on every page of it!'

  Silently she returned to the wings, and a moment later the overture to the new ballet began. Melanie closed her eyes, letting her emotions drift with the music. The violins grew louder, Anton's hand tapped her elbow and with a lift of her head she danced on to the stage.

  From that moment on she forgot everything except the present, swept up in the simple story of first love and first disillusion that comprised Anton's new one-act ballet.

  As a partner he was ideal, guiding her expertly through her most difficult steps, yet making everything appear effortless to the audience. Although off-stage she had never felt completely at ease with him since he had kissed her so passionately and unexpectedly a few days ago, dancing with him as his partner made her forget everything except the part of the gentle, lovesick girl she was portraying. All the emotions she had deliberately held in check now came to the fore, giving her every movement a subtlety it had never held until now, helping her to evoke the very spirit of new love and, finally, lost hopes.

  As they came to the final steps and the last chords of the orchestra faded away there was a long silence - the most supreme tribute an audience could pay - before a storm of applause broke around them.

  In a daze she and Anton took curtain call after curtain call until the front of the stage was turned into a bower of flowers.

  'Still worried about your success?' he murmured as they took their final call.

  She shook her head, too overwhelmed to speak. She had received great ovations during their Australian tour, but it was nothing compared with the applause tonight.

  The sound of it was still ringing in her ears as she returned to her dressing-room. No longer buoyed by excitement, she was so exhausted that every movement was an effort, and lethargically she took off her costume, put on a silk dressing-gown and proceeded to cream off her make-up.

  She was interrupted by a knock on the door and heard Mrs. Ransome's voice asking if she could come in.

  Trembling, Melanie turned to greet her, her excitement dying as she saw that her mother-in-law was alone.

  ‘You were wonderful, Melanie! I had to come backstage and tell you. I hope you don't mind?'

  'I'm delighted.' Melanie forced a smile. 'As you can see, I'm not being inundated with visitors!'

  'You will be after tonight. You've a great future ahead of you - I never realized it until now.' The woman looked round the room. ‘You should have a bigger room than this.'

  Melanie laughed. 'I'm lucky to have a room of my own at all. Until tonight I was sharing it with someone else.' She cleared a chair of stockings. 'Do sit down. I won't be long.' Determined not to ask what Gregory had thought of her dancing, she faced the mirror again and continued to wipe off her make-up, aware that her mother-in-law was still standing by the chair.

  'I can't stay, Melanie. I only came to ask if you'd like to join Mr. Fenwick and myself for dinner.
'

  Melanie met the blue eyes reflected above hers in the mirror, but the thought of seeing Gregory made her heart beat so fast she could not speak. However Mrs. Ransome's next words destroyed all her excitement

  'I can promise it won't be very tiring for you,' the woman went on. There'll just be the three of us. Gregory and Lydia have gone on to a party with some friends.'

  That's a relief,' Melanie lied, 'I'd prefer it to be quiet’

  'Good. Then I'll leave you to get dressed.'

  Left alone, Melanie dabbed more cream on her face, but her hands were shaking so much that she could not wipe it off. How stupid she had been to have expected Gregory to come backstage and congratulate her when, on his own admission, he had said he despised people who regarded ballet with the fervour of a religious fanatic; to have hoped he would come and see her now was like expecting an atheist to kneel In front of an altar!

  Yet though she was able to use logic to excuse him for not coming with his aunt, she could not use logic to excuse his lack of a telephone call or flowers on the following day - a gesture of courtesy which she had expected of him. More than ever she accepted the fact that they came from different worlds and had nothing In common, and more than ever she forced herself to think only of her work.

  Melanie's London debut did not go unnoticed in the press and for several weeks she was interviewed and written about But the only real difference it made to her life was a further increase in salary and a dressing-room permanently her own.

  With the season successfully launched, Anton immediately began work on a full-length ballet and told Melanie he wanted her to dance the female lead.

  Tanya will never stand for it,' she said. 'She's our principal dancer and—'

  ‘You can't build a company on one dancer alone,' he said. Tanya's jealousy of you is personal. It has nothing to do with the fact that you're now dancing bigger roles.'

  Recognizing the truth of what Anton had said, Melanie did her best to ignore Tanya's jealousy, which manifested itself in irritating ways during rehearsals.

  As always when in the grip of a new work, Anton spared no one. He no longer talked to Melanie of slowing down and instead pushed her to such extremes of effort in his desire to have the new ballet ready to include in the current repertoire that one afternoon Verenskaya was forced to intervene.

  Coming into the practice room she took one look at Melanie's white, exhausted face and ordered her home to rest before the evening performance.

  'Melanie's always pale,' Anton scowled. It means nothing.'

  'Rehearse her at this pace and her dancing tonight will mean nothing either!'

  'I'm not a bit tired,' Melanie intervened, but Verenskaya Ignored her.

  'Come with me, Anton, I have some contracts I'd like you to look at'

  They went out and Melanie, grateful for the chance of a rest, changed from her practice clothes into a full-skirted white dress and set out for home.

  Away from the dusty confines of the theatre she paused to enjoy the blue sky and the feel of the sun on her face. How wonderful it was to have a few hours of freedom. Only now did she admit how badly she needed it. Savouring thoughts of a cool bath, she sauntered to the bus stop and had joined the queue when a voice called her name. Thinking it was someone from the company, she turned, the blood draining from her face as she saw Gregory.

  He was wearing a grey suit and a pale blue shirt which gave unexpected warmth to eyes she had always thought of as icy grey. There was a smile on his face too, though when he spoke his voice was as cool as she had always known it

  'On the loose in the middle of the day? I thought you were always rehearsing?'

  ‘Verenskaya sent me home to rest’

  I'm not surprised. You look as pale as a ghost.’

  Immediately she was conscious of how she must appear to him: her skin waxy, shadows of fatigue marking her cheekbones and lying dark beneath her eyes. As he continued to stare at her she became even more uncomfortable, and aware that her low- heeled pumps made her look absurdly small she defiantly tilted her head, knowing even as she did so that she did not reach higher than his heart.

  ‘You don't only look as If you need a rest,' he said abruptly. ‘You look as if you need some food.' Without giving her time to protest, he raised his hand to a passing taxi, peremptorily said

  'Dorchester’ and pushed her into its dim interior.

  'I'm not dressed for the Dorchester,' she protested.

  'Nonsense! You look fine.’

  His assurance did little to appease her and she settled into the corner of the seat and wondered what had prompted his invitation. She glanced at him, but his expression was so stern that she knew that whatever had caused his gesture it was certainly not liking. Duty perhaps? Maybe even pity. Well, even pity was better than hate. She looked down at her hands and sighed. Perhaps in time she could make him realize she was not the heartless girl he thought her to be. She toyed with the idea of telling him the whole truth about herself and Timothy, but even as her hps parted she realized she could not do so without disclosing the part that Lydia Fenwick had played, and Lydia's father now held a controlling interest in Ransome Engineering. There was no knowing what he would do if Gregory attacked his daughter - as he very well might if he learnt that Lydia had been responsible for Melanie going to Australia: an act which had finally resulted in Timothy's death.

  All these thoughts flashed through Melanie's mind, but she was still undecided what to do when the decision was made for her by the taxi drawing to a stop outside the hotel.

  Diffidently she followed Gregory through the busy foyer and into the large lounge. They sat down on a settee backing on to a peach mirror and she watched silently as Gregory conferred with the waiter. Even when the man had gone he seemed in no hurry to talk and, with his usual deliberation, took out a cigar and lit it, smoking it in silence until the waiter returned with what appeared to Melanie to be an enormous amount of food. She watched as various plates of assorted sandwiches and cakes were set before them, followed by a pot of coffee and one of tea.

  'I hope you've got a big appetite,' she said quickly. ‘You don't think I'm going to eat all this, do you?'

  'Only half of it,' he answered. 'I intend to eat the other half myself.’

  'I never thought of you as the sort of man who ate cream cakes.'

  'Did you assume I lived on lemons?' She turned scarlet, and he smiled, 'I'm sorry. I shouldn't tease you.'

  ‘You've never done so before.' She reached for a sandwich. Hut then we've never been on teasing terms.' He did not answer and, made bolder by her surroundings, she said: 'Why did you invite me here?'

  'As a slight repayment for the wonderful evening you gave me a few weeks ago. I never knew until then what a beautiful dancer you are.' He hesitated and she saw his hand clench and f unclench on his cigar. Then, as if suddenly aware of what he was doing, he stubbed it out in the ashtray, uncaring that he had smoked barely a quarter of It.

  'I wanted to come backstage with my aunt that night,' he went on, ‘but I couldn't leave Lydia. And somehow I didn't think you'd appreciate having her come round to see you as well!'

  'Whatever gave you that idea?' Melanie asked in an innocent voice.

  'I don't profess to have a great understanding of women, but I know enough about them to recognize when they don't like each other!'

  'I never expected you to come,' she said, ignoring the remark. 'But I'm glad to know you liked the ballet.'

  'I liked you,' he corrected, and his emphasis of the pronoun I brought the colour to her face. 'I never thought of you as being I ungainly, but it wasn't until I saw you on the stage that I r realized what a fragile little thing you are.'

  ‘I only look fragile,' she said. ‘You have to be strong to be a ballet dancer.'

  It's a lovely strength,' he said softly, and his voice was so gentle that she was horrified to feel tears well into her eyes.

  Quickly she glanced down at her lap, afraid that he might see them. T
his was the first occasion she had seen Gregory since she had admitted to herself that she loved him and until now she had half hoped - had in fact almost convinced herself - that what she felt for him was only a figment of her imagination. Yet now, sitting so close to him, smelling the tobacco he smoked and enveloped by the aura of his personality, she knew that the emotion he aroused in her was no schoolgirl crush nor a Jezebel desire to provoke him.

  She loved him. Deeply, passionately and irrevocably she loved him.

  ‘You're not eating.' His voice broke into her thoughts and confusedly she looked up.

  'Neither are you,' she said.

  ‘Let's both eat together!'

  Simultaneously their hands reached out for a sandwich and their fingers met She drew bad: as though she had touched a flame and concentrated furiously on chewing food which, at that moment, tasted exactly like sawdust But as their tea progressed she began to relax, soothed by the warmth, the smell of perfume and flowers and the general air of luxury.

  'I've never been to the Dorchester before,' she admitted as she dug her fork into an eclair.

  'Didn't Timothy bring you here?'

  ‘We never went out during the day, and I was dancing every night By the time I'd finished and changed, the only places that were open were night dubs.'

  'I can't imagine Timothy leading a quiet life for long.'

  It wasn't for long,' she said artlessly. ‘We only knew each other a few months. Though In the last few weeks he did suddenly splash out' She stopped abruptly, remembering where the money to do so must have come from.

  A strange expression crossed Gregory's face too, and expecting him to make a comment on Timothy's sale of his shares, she was taken aback by the question he did ask.

  'And who were you in love with before Timothy?'

  ‘No one. He was my first boy-friend.' Deciding she had better go before his questions became dangerous, she stood up.