‘Olympics?’ My jaw dropped. ‘Truly?’
She laughed. ‘Don’t look so amazed.’
‘What happened? Did you win a medal?’ I gripped the mug and stared at her.
‘No, I didn’t.’ She laid her hands flat on the table, fingers splayed, then clasped them together. Her knuckles were white. ‘The team came fourth. They did fantastically well. Better than anyone expected. But I didn’t play. That’s when I was injured.’
‘That’s terrible! You must have been devastated.’ I wanted to rush around the table and hug her, but I stayed in my chair. She looked like she might push me away.
For a moment, Mum’s chin trembled, then she shrugged. ‘These things happen. I had my chance and it didn’t work out. But life goes on.’
Something wasn’t right in the way she was talking. She wasn’t telling me everything. ‘Did you keep playing after your leg got better? You could have been in the ’92 team, right?’
Mum pulled at her hair, then she shook her head and smiled, as if banishing bad thoughts to the dark outside. ‘I did my best and I moved on. I coached for a few years and then I had you kids. My life filled up with nappies and cooking and that was plenty for me.’ She stood up. ‘Time to watch my favourite show. Have you finished your homework?’
‘Yes.’ I packed my books away and took my school bag out to my room. The air was frosty and I shivered, but the goose bumps on my skin persisted long after I was snug and warm under my doona. Every time I thought about Mum being picked for the Olympics, my breath caught. It was so fantastic and yet she’d never mentioned it before. I understood why she’d given up playing – the disappointment must’ve been totally awful – but still, giving up just didn’t seem like her. There was still something she hadn’t told me, something vital, and it was like a fish hook in my brain. I had to find out what it was.
The following day, when I walked through the school gates, the first thing I saw was Jade’s scowling face. I hesitated, wanting to veer away and head for my classroom, but Lucy was right behind me. She grabbed my arm and dragged me over to where Jade and Taylor stood by the school sign. ‘Hi,’ Lucy chirped. ‘Did you watch “Dancing with the Stars” last night?’
Jade cut in. ‘We were too busy having a team meeting. It’s a disaster. Nobody wants to coach us.’
Her eyes glittered with tears and I felt sorry for her, but I knew I’d feel a lot sorrier if she wasn’t so aggro about the whole thing.
‘Nobody at all?’ Lucy said. ‘But – does that mean you can’t play?’
‘Probably,’ said Taylor. ‘We can’t even train on school grounds now without an adult supervising.’
‘It’s not fair!’ Jade said. ‘We can win the trophy, I know we can. Even without a coach. But none of the stupid teachers wants to help.’
It sounded a bit weird. ‘Can’t one of your parents be the supervisor? Won’t your mum help?’
Jade glared at me. ‘Don’t be stupid. She wouldn’t know how.’
Before I could stop myself, my mouth opened and the words spilt out. ‘Pity my mum only coached basketball. But seeing as how basketball’s stupid, too –’ I was paying Jade back for the way she’d sneered at my goal shooting, but it was the dumbest thing I could’ve said and now it was too late to take it back. Jade’s eyes lit up, she took a step towards me and grabbed my arm.
‘That doesn’t matter. The principles are the same. Besides, she only needs to stand on the sidelines.’ Her grip on my arm pinched like a crab’s claw. ‘You have to ask her. She’s our last hope.’
‘She can’t. She’s injured.’ I tried to pull my arm away, but that only made it hurt more.
Jade was on a mission, though. ‘Doesn’t matter. Like I said, she only has to stand there and blow a whistle.’
The bell rang so loudly that it drowned out her next words and then the principal marched over and said, ‘Off to class, girls. You can chat later.’
‘We’ll talk at recess,’ Jade said, finally letting go of my arm.
I knew what that meant. She’d move very quickly from talking to threatening. How was I going to get out of this? As I joined Lucy, who was moving towards the steps, she said, ‘How come you never said anything before?’
Because today was my day for being a complete moron! ‘Mum won’t say yes, that’s why. I told you: she’s got a bad leg.’
‘Oh.’ Her face cleared. ‘But if she only has to stand and watch –’
I felt like I was a castle under siege and I wished for a huge, deep moat around myself. ‘It’s not going to happen, Lucy. Trust me.’
Lucy sniffed. ‘Fine. Be like that, then.’
I could almost hear the little wheels turning and squeaking inside her head and by the time we reached our classroom and were sitting at our desks, her face had a cheesy smile on it. She leaned sideways. ‘You haven’t forgotten about showing me the dance steps, have you?’ she said.
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the irritation that bubbled up from my stomach. I clenched my hands and then made them lie flat on my desk. ‘No, I haven’t forgotten,’ I said sweetly.
chapter 13
The school day droned on and it was great to have PE after lunch and play coordination ball games for an hour, which warmed everyone up but reminded me of Ricky. If I walked home the long way, past the shops, maybe I’d see him.
Sure enough, he was sitting outside the milk bar, but he wasn’t alone. Two older boys stood over him and Ricky hugged his basketball like a shield.
‘Don’t be a smartarse,’ one of the boys said, whacking Ricky across the side of his head. His hands glittered with several large rings.
‘Oww! Whadidya do that for?’ Ricky cringed away from him.
I just stood there. What was I going to do? Leave? Yell out? I couldn’t walk away and let him be beaten up. No way. I made myself walk towards them; my legs felt so rubbery I thought they were going to buckle and I’d collapse on the footpath.
‘Think this loser needs a good smack around,’ the other boy said. His face had several big white-headed pimples erupting from his greasy skin and a wispy goatee hung from his chin like a bit of fluff.
When I was closer, I squeaked, ‘Hi, Ricky.’
The two boys swung around. ‘Eeuuww, it’s a little chicky come for Ricky,’ the pimply boy sneered. Ricky peered at me as if he didn’t recognise me.
‘Who’s this?’ said RingFinger.
‘Just someone I know,’ Ricky mumbled.
‘Who’d want to know you, turd-brain?’
‘Leave her alone. She’s okay.’
‘Not if she’s hanging around with a wuss like you,’ Pimple said, laughing.
RingFinger grabbed Ricky by the neck of his T-shirt and almost lifted him off the ground. ‘Tomorrow – or else.’
‘Yeah, yeah. Put me down. I heard ya.’ Retrieving his T-shirt and yanking it straight, Ricky glared at RingFinger, who cocked his fingers and put one to Ricky’s head. Then, punching each other on the arm and laughing, he and Pimple sauntered away.
Ricky collapsed onto the bench. ‘Hey, how’s it going?’
I sat next to him. ‘Scary,’ I said. ‘I thought they were going to bash you really badly.’
‘Nah.’ He sniffed. ‘Mum’d have a fit if Con did that.’
‘Con? You know him?’
‘Yeah, that dude was my brother.’
‘What was he threatening you for?’
‘School.’ He kicked at the concrete kerb with one shoe. ‘Mum’s been packing it that the welfare guy at the school reported me for not going. So she sent Con to have a word.’
‘How many days did you miss?’
‘Dunno. About ten.’
‘This year?’
‘This month.’ He grinned. ‘Don’t like school. Can’t see the point.’
I tried to get my head around someone who just didn’t go to school. ‘Don’t you want to get a good job when you finish?’
Ricky burst out laughing and slapped his leg
. ‘Oh man, you kill me. I’m either going to end up unemployed or have some pathetic job like sweeping streets. Going to school isn’t going to change that.’
‘But –’ I knew Orrin didn’t like school either and he didn’t get good marks, but he still went. Even Tam worked hard at school, because he needed maths and stuff for black-smithing. I couldn’t get a grip on someone who had given up so soon and was already expecting an awful life with no decent job.
‘Hey, no sweat. I don’t think about the future. No point.’
‘I feel like I can’t not think about it.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘For me, everything’s about ballet, you know, trying to get into the Ballet School and dance for – for a career, I guess.’
‘What – you’re going to be in the Australian Ballet and be famous, like that Nureyev woman?’
Heat rushed up into my face. Was he having a go at me? ‘That’d be a bit hard. Nureyev’s a guy,’ I said, trying to make a joke out of it.
‘Nah, serious now. Is that what you’re gonna do?’ He stared at me, waiting for my answer, which made me feel a bit silly, as if I was talking about trekking to the South Pole or swimming Bass Strait. Maybe that was how Ricky saw it.
‘Um … yeah. I hope so.’
‘Hey, that is awesome!’ His eyes sparkled. ‘Are you any good?’
‘I hope so.’ I felt the thick cracking paint on the bench under my fingertips like a crocodile’s skin. ‘I have to be, I guess, but practice is a huge part of it. That’s why I need the hall. Hey, I used the room last night. Thanks for helping me with it.’
His gaze dropped and a pink flush crept into his face. ‘Would you … show me one day, you know, how you dance?’
‘Sure. You want to learn?’
‘Hey, calm down! Me – dance? As if.’
‘I’ve seen you on the basketball court. You move like a dancer.’
Now his face was bright red. ‘No way, man. You’re joking.’
‘I’m not. Listen, I had a favour to ask you anyway. Maybe …’
‘What? What’s the favour?’
‘I need someone to help me stow away the tables and put them back again after practice. Dad can’t do it because he’s usually at work. Could you help? Not all the time, just now and then.’
He shrugged. ‘Can’t do it, my friend. I’m banned from the hall.’
‘Oh.’ How could I dance around the tables? And I couldn’t expect Mum or Dad to take time off work to help me. They were doing enough for me already. I thought hard. ‘There’s a big sliding window in that room. Could you climb in the window and help me?’
‘You sure do ask big favours,’ he said.
‘After we move the tables, you could practise with me.’
‘I don’t know any ballet.’
‘Yeah, but you could learn. I’d show you.’ What was I saying? I’d decided to keep it all a secret from Lucy so I wouldn’t have her disrupting me, and now I was offering to teach Ricky, who knew nothing? But Dad often said that teaching someone was a good way to work it out for yourself. Besides, I wanted to do something for Ricky, something that wasn’t about making him go to school or do stuff he hated.
I remembered something else that Orrin said. ‘You know, some professional footballers and basketball players learn things like dance and yoga. It’s supposed to be good for balance and flexibility and stuff.’
‘Oh yeah, I’m headed for pro basketball. Not!’ He poked me in the arm. ‘Okay, you sold me. I’ll help, but if that bald guy at the hall catches me in there, I’ll be dead meat.’
‘I’ll stick something in front of the door so he can’t get in.’
‘Man, you got an answer for everything.’ He held his hand up to high-five me and this time I whacked it so hard he laughed.
‘I’d better go,’ I said. ‘See you outside the window just after four tomorrow?’
‘Sure. Whatever.’
At home, it was lino time and with Mum’s mirror, I could check my positions to make sure everything was perfect. The silver cord, from top to toe, pulled me up from the floor. I imagined Ricky doing these exercises with me and giggled. It’d be interesting, but I had to remember what I was there for – the audition!
‘Brynna!’ It was Mum. ‘Pack up now, please.’ She sounded really tired and, when I went inside, her face was drawn and pale.
‘Are you okay, Mum?’
‘It was crazy in there today. I’m knackered and my leg’s killing me.’ She sighed. ‘Still, I guess I’d better do those exercises after dinner.’
‘Why don’t you have a shower and I’ll do the potatoes and stuff?’
Her face brightened. ‘Thanks, sweetie. That’d be great. I’ll do the chicken later. Orrin’s got footy training tonight, so it’ll be the three of us at the table. Three. This family gets smaller every day.’
‘Have you heard from Tam?’ I said, as I pulled potatoes out of the bag under the sink.
‘No, not a word. Typical. I might ring him tonight.’ She sorted through the mail on the bench. ‘Another bill. I’m not opening that one.’
Mum’s mobile phone trilled out the Star Wars theme. She talked for a few minutes and I worked out it was her boss. ‘No, not for two weeks. I can’t afford to push it too soon, Letty. Sorry.’ She pressed the disconnect button and shrugged. ‘They’re keen, those girls, but they’ll have to play without me for a while longer.’
‘Mm-hmm,’ I said and my stomach twisted into a knot again. I didn’t want to ask Mum about coaching Jade’s netball team – I was worried she’d say yes, just to make me happy and to make Jade my friend. But I didn’t want Jade as a friend. I had to ask in a way that made it clear I wanted Mum to say no.
‘It’s funny that you used to coach,’ I said.
‘Why’s that?’ She sat down and started to pull off her socks. I fetched the liniment for her and she said, ‘Thanks, I’ll put that on after my shower.’
‘Some of the girls at school play netball and their coach just broke her leg. She was snow skiing.’
‘Ouch,’ said Mum. ‘Bet that hurt.’
‘They – some of the girls – had this dumb idea that you could coach them. But,’ I added quickly, ‘I told them you couldn’t. I said that already. That your leg was – you know –’
Mum glanced at me, folding her socks over into a soft ball, her mouth twitching. ‘Well, I could think about it, I suppose. My leg is getting better.’
‘You said it was really painful tonight!’ I felt the edge of the sink digging into my back and stepped forward. ‘Plus, I already said no.’
Mum’s eyebrows arched up. ‘Is something going on, Brynna? You seem a bit uptight about it.’
‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘They’ll get someone else.’ I grabbed a potato and the peeler. ‘Go and have your shower, Mum.’
She went off to the bathroom and I heard the water running, but I had a feeling the topic was going to come up again, sooner or later. Why didn’t I want her to coach Jade’s team? It wasn’t about me playing – nobody was going to force me to do that – so what was my problem with it?
chapter 14
The next day, as I expected, Jade and Taylor ignored me, but Lucy hung with me, wanting help with the dance steps. I showed her a few times on the smooth concrete near the library, but by the end of lunchtime, she still didn’t have them in the right sequence. I wrote them down for her, hoping that would be enough. In my head, I was already at the youth hall, dancing in the back room, and I rushed there as soon as school finished, even though I was early.
I wasn’t sure Ricky would be outside the window at four, but after I’d jammed the door shut with a chair, there he was, gesturing to me to unlock and open the slider.
‘You sure Baldy’s not getting in?’ he said.
‘Not unless he’s Superman.’
We folded the tables and put them aside, then I started my barre work. Ricky prowled round the room, looking under chairs and mats, checking outside the window,
taking no notice of me. At first I was distracted, then I got used to him and focused on what I was doing. Centre exercises next, then the dance steps. Over and over, gradually getting faster.
‘Don’t you get sick of doing the same stuff all the time?’
His voice gave me a start. I’d forgotten he was there.
‘Not really. You kind of centre yourself, start to feel what your body’s doing and then it all flows.’
‘Mmhh.’ He didn’t sound convinced.
‘Are you going to have a go or not?’ I asked.
‘Nah, too hard.’
‘I could do with some help. I’m going to practise pirouettes.’
‘Pirra-whats?’ He was lying across three chairs and sat up with a clatter, knocking one over.
‘Pirouettes. Turns. Watch.’ I moved to fifth position and completed a pirouette. ‘The best dancers can do lots, one after the other.’
‘Don’t you get dizzy?’
‘You fix your eyes on one spot and turn to it. Come on, have a go.’ I pointed at his runners. ‘You’ll have to take them off. Your feet aren’t smelly, are they?’
‘What? You insulting me?’
‘I’ve got two brothers, so I know all about smelly feet.’
‘Where are they then? How come they don’t fix the tables for you?’ He slipped off his shoes and stepped into the centre of the room.
‘Tam’s gone back to Bendigo and Orrin trains for footy every night.’ I nudged his foot with my toe. ‘Put your feet like mine.’
He tried. ‘Nah, this is silly.’ He laughed.
‘No, it’s not. You just don’t think you can do it.’
‘Yes, I can.
‘Well, then. Like this.’ I went through the pirouette slowly, showing him that his feet should end up in the same position and his arms should be curved down in front of him. Then I let him have a go on his own. And he did it almost perfectly first time.
My mouth fell open. ‘Whoa. How did you do that? Nobody does it right the first few times. They overbalance usually.’
He shrugged. ‘Dunno. Does this make me the next Nureyev?’
‘Not yet. Do it again.’
So he did – several times – and he hardly teetered at all. Even his arms were nearly correct.
One Perfect Pirouette Page 9