Peril en Pointe

by Helen Lipscombe

  If I could reach the telephone, I could ring for help. But the slam of the receiver is followed by a snip, like the cutting of a phone line.

  Seconds later, he’s back. Filipp pauses in the doorway, then crouches down.

  I press hard against the wall and make myself as small as possible. Filipp kneels on the floor and whines through the grate.

  ‘Is anyone home?’

  Mum moans.

  ‘Sorry? What was that, Eva? Did I have a good day? I did, thank you for asking. I’ve spent quite a lot of it wondering what to do with you, actually. But we’ll get to that in a second.’

  Filipp gets up and shrugs off his overall. Underneath is a shiny black leotard. He reaches for a cape hanging behind the door. Feathers rustle as he pulls it around his neck.

  ‘You’ll be pleased to know that my final delivery to Swan House is done and everything has gone to plan. Who would have thought it, eh? Stupid old Filipp pulling off the crime of the century!’

  Mum mumbles through the tape and Filipp holds up his palm.

  ‘You thought I was stupid too, Eva. Don’t deny it. Hlúpy, they called me in Korolev’s academy. Stupid Vilppu, but there’s a reason for everything I’ve done . . .’

  Filipp bangs the case on the table above my head. The lock snaps open. He drags back the chair and sits down. He’s so close, the smell of glue on his overalls makes my stomach heave again. Something flops to the floor and Filipp kicks it under the table. It looks like a squashed hamster – it’s Pip’s ginger wig.

  Filipp whines on. ‘Korolev did me a favour by throwing me out. He forced me to put my plan into action. It was so easy to get a job at Meekes. Young Master Pip. So eager to learn. And I learnt a lot but it was a stroke of luck when you showed up that day. I realized that if you taught me, I’d get better. If you taught me, I might win a Scarlet Slipper! It took a few attempts to finish Heart Maker off, but it was worth it. You should have seen the look on his face when nice young Pip Smith pushed him down the stairs. He couldn’t Adam and Eve it . . .’

  I clamp my hands over my mouth. Poor Mr Stubbs.

  ‘But look at Pip now, Eva. Look at Filipp. Look at CROWN MAKER!’

  Mum groans through the tape.

  ‘I’m glad you agree. Anyway, that’s enough about me. Let’s talk about you. The truth is, I’m torn. Will it be an encore for you, or curtains? I think you’ve had enough encores, don’t you? Meekes is closed for two weeks. With no water, I give you three days.’

  Pip scrapes back the chair and stands up. ‘I wish you could see me, Eva. I will be the greatest Von Rothbart that has ever danced!’ He steps back and swishes his cape.

  I crane my neck, but all I can see is a pair of black legs.

  ‘Goodbye, Eva. I will miss our little chats. In some ways you were the m-mother I always hoped for. Don’t try to escape, will you? If anyone tries to stop me, I have something up my sleeve. One wrong move, and I’ll press this little button. So, you see, there really is nothing you can do. Toodle Pip – Filipp has an appointment with revenge.’

  He steps inside the cupboard. There’s a creak and a clang, then silence.

  I wait a heartbeat before wriggling from under the table. ‘There must be a tunnel from Meekes all the way to Swan House.’

  Mum pulls off the tape. ‘You know about the tunnels? Even I didn’t realize there was one to Meekes. You must hurry. The remote control is in his sleeve, but I don’t know where he’s planted the bomb. Poor Filipp – he wants so desperately to win a Scarlet Slipper. I don’t believe he’ll detonate the bomb until after he’s danced. You have to follow him, Milly, then get help.’

  ‘I’ll come back for you, Mum. As soon as I can.’

  ‘Stay safe. Milly, I love you . . .’

  ‘I love you too, Mum.’

  I run with gulping breaths and heavy legs. An invisible string tugs me back to Mum but Filipp’s feet are thumping away. His words swoop over my head like angry bats.

  ‘Sssscarlet Sssslipper . . . Po-po-va, Po-po-va . . . ’

  I scrape my arms and stub my toes. I run until my legs give up. I think of Mum and run some more. I run until Filipp slows.

  In front of him, a staircase spirals up into the dark. His footsteps clang above my head. I climb as quiet as a see-through mouse.

  There’s a muffled chime as he disappears through a crack of light. I scramble after him and peer through a narrow door. The grandfather clock. I’m back where I started.

  A boy calls into Madame’s study, ‘Are you there, Pip?’ I know that voice. It’s Danny Debello. My brain ticks in time with the clock. Danny is dancing the part of Von Rothbart. ‘Hi, Pip. Thanks for coming back,’ says Danny. ‘Just as well you got here in time. Like I said on the phone, the shoes you dropped off with the trophy were way too big. Wait a minute – what’s going—?’

  There’s a thump and a slump. I watch Filipp step over Danny’s legs and run.

  I wriggle out of the clock and check that Danny’s breathing. He’s alive, but his Von Rothbart mask has gone. Filipp must be planning to take his place.

  As I pull myself up, a shadow falls over me.

  ‘Millicent! What have you done?’

  Moonlight pours from the window. Madame looks like she’s made of snow.

  ‘Madame, this isn’t how it looks! It was Pip! He’s going to blow up the theatre. You have to warn everyone!’

  Madame checks Danny’s pulse. ‘First you disappear, zen you attack Daniel and now you expect me to believe zat Pip is planning to blow us all up? Even by your standards, zat is ridicule!’

  ‘I’m telling the truth! I found Mum at Meekes. Pip had her all along!’

  ‘You found Eva?’ Madame drops Danny’s wrist.

  ‘YES! She’s not the mole. I haven’t got time to explain but you’ve got to send someone for her, and I’ve got to stop—’

  ‘You are going nowhere. I will call ze Captain.’

  ‘NO! LISTEN TO ME! Pip is Filipp Popov.’

  ‘Filipp Popov? You know zis?’

  ‘He’s going to take revenge on his family. Please, Madame, you must warn everyone.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘What if you’re wrong? Hundreds of people will die. Can you take that chance?’

  Madame melts into the unlit hall. ‘Go,’ she says. ‘I will raise the alarm.’

  The hall is quiet. Everyone must be in the theatre. I dart into the narrow corridor that leads backstage. There’s only one person who can stop Filipp now.

  I find the White Swan stretching in the shadows. Willow looks up and her jaw drops open.

  ‘You’re not supposed to be here. I’m calling Madame. Madame! MADAME! It’s Mil—’

  I clamp my hand over Willow’s kale ’ole. ‘Sorry, Willow. Have you seen Von Rothbart? Is he in the wings? Just nod or shake your head.’

  Willow nods.

  ‘I need you to listen very carefully. Von Rothbart is not Danny. I don’t have time to explain, but he’s planted a bomb in the theatre. I’m going to take my hand away now. Do you promise not to shout?’

  Willow nods. I drop my hand.

  ‘You’re off your tiny rocker! MADAME! MILLICENT’S G—’

  Oh, for goodness’ sake. My hand slaps back over Willow’s mouth.

  ‘Please, please, listen. He’s carrying a remote control. He won’t use it until after he’s danced. You have to get it off him before the dance ends. Do you understand? You have to get the control.’

  I take my hand away and Willow crumbles.

  ‘He’s got a bomb?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you want me to dance with him?’

  ‘Yes.’ I grab her hand.

  ‘NO WAY! Milly, I can’t do it. I’m too pretty to die.’

  Willow is shaking. Her violet eyes are pools of terror. Her hand is hot and trembly. It’s like Cinderella all over again.

  I let her go. ‘I’m sorry, Willow. I should never have asked you. Quick, give me your mask – your costume .
. .’

  Willow peels off her mask. ‘It’s too dangerous, Milly. You can’t.’

  I make my voice as light as a little white feather. ‘It’s OK. I’ve warned Madame. They might have found the bomb by now.’

  Willow takes off her costume. She helps me into the tutu. Lastly, I put on her shoes. When I see Mum’s initials on the soles, invisible fingers tickle my neck. Suddenly everything becomes clear.

  Filipp said it himself, he did everything for a reason. He became a shoemaker because of the Scarlet Slipper. If I can hide Merv’s MUMB in the box of a ballet shoe, wouldn’t it be possible for Filipp to hide a bomb in the trophy? Isn’t that why he pushed Mr Stubbs down the stairs – so he could make the Scarlet Slipper?

  ‘Tell the Captain the bomb must be inside the trophy. What are you waiting for? Go!’

  Willow folds her arms. ‘If you’re going to die, I have to say something first.’

  ‘We haven’t got time!’

  ‘I’m not going until I’ve said it! After I hurt my leg in Cinderella, one little lie led to another and I just couldn’t stop. Dad was always working and your mum was the first person to take an interest in me and my dancing. She was so amazing and kind, I didn’t want to stop. I was scared that if I changed my story she wouldn’t want anything to do with me.’ Willow Perkins rolls her eyes. ‘What I mean is, I’m sorry, Milly. There, I said it.’

  I watch her scarper down the corridor. All this time I’ve been jealous of Willow, but I had the one thing she wanted all along. A mum.

  28

  The Final Act

  I wobble up the steps to the wings with a heart that’s three sizes too big for my bodice. Von Rothbart’s winged cape swooshes in front of me. The air crackles. A voice onstage warbles, ‘Your Royal Majesties, my Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen, esteemed Judges and Committee Members. It is my great pleasure to introduce . . .’

  It’s Dame Anna Popova. Doesn’t she want to live to be 103? Why hasn’t the Captain cleared the theatre? What has Madame been doing?

  I listen for the alarm but the only warning bells are the ones going off in my brain.

  Madame hasn’t told the Captain about the bomb. Madame hasn’t told anyone about the bomb. Madame is nowhere to be seen.

  Madame is the MOLE.

  Suddenly there’s a frozen lake where my stomach should be. If I don’t stop Filipp, no one will.

  Every cell in my body zooms in on one thing. The remote control in Filipp’s sleeve.

  I edge as close as I dare to his back and peer around the curtain. Up in the Royal Box, the Scarlet Slipper gleams in front of Filipp’s mum.

  I watch him watch Dame Anna as she nudges her glasses up her powdery nose.

  ‘ . . . we have a surprise, thanks to Madame de La Cloche’s wonderful suggestion . . .’

  A surprise?

  The backdrop grates behind me. Slowly, it begins to rise. There’s a blast of cold air. Moonlight fills the stage. Filipp’s eyes slide from Dame Anna to his mother, to the icy lake. Stars twinkle above and below the horizon. We’re in a snowglobe of starlight. A globe that’ll explode into a shower of glittering dust if I fail.

  Dame Anna Popova’s voice warbles into a crescendo. ‘ . . . from Swan Lake, I give you . . . SWAN HOUSE SCHOOL OF BALLET!’

  The clapping dies. The lights dim. Silence falls over the theatre like stardust.

  Filipp said we perform, or we die. But I don’t need to perform. I am Odette. A frightened White Swan, on the verge of doom.

  The conductor lifts his baton. The baton comes down. Music floods my ears.

  Filipp soars across the stage like a bird. He preens, he glares, he leaps, he flaps. Symbols clash as he sweeps me up and spins me around. I throw back my arms and feathers fly. For a heartbeat, I’m lost in the music. It flows through my arms and legs. It sparks from my fingertips, it shines in my eyes.

  Ms Celia said that miracles could only be achieved with patience and kindness and Mum has proved her right. The audience don’t wait for the final drum roll, they jump to their feet and applause thunders around us. In the corner of my eye, I spot the Captain enter the Royal Box. As Filipp takes a long, low bow, I sidestep closer and reach out my hand. At that second, Filipp looks up. He snaps out of his trance and reaches for his sleeve.

  I think of Lottie as I make a claw and pounce. Filipp prods a scratch on his cheek and inspects the blood on his fingertip.

  For an instant, I see the young Filipp with his slumpy shoulders and mousey ears. I grab his sleeve and feel the remote. He twists my arm. I jab with my elbow. He lets go and the remote slides into my hand.

  I roll away, but he clings to my tutu and drags me back. My palms are too slippery. The remote spins out of my grasp. I kick it towards the lake and watch it teeter at the edge of the stage. I pray for a splash that doesn’t come. We both lurch towards it but Filipp catches my ankle. I feel a horrible snap and I cry out. Blurry eyed, I dive again, but he’s already there.

  ‘Don’t,’ I choke. ‘Don’t. You’ve won the Scarlet Slipper.’

  For a second, he falters. Then, eyes on his mother, Filipp Popov laughs and presses the button.

  I curl up. Hands on ears. Cheeks wet hot. Mum, I’ve let you down . . .

  And . . . nothing.

  I open one eye. Then the other. Above me, the royals are all staring at the white face of the Captain. His eyes are screwed shut. His Viking arms are hugging his Viking chest. The trophy is stuffed up his jumper. The Captain is a viking god. But why hasn’t the trophy exploded?

  The audience begins to rustle. Some of them check their programmes. They must think this is part of the performance. Everyone settles back in their seats.

  Well. Not quite everyone.

  At the back of the theatre, no one seems to have noticed a boy puffing like Thomas the Tank Engine. He’s got headphones over his ears and his monobrow is a bushy black line of concentration. His outstretched hand trembles at the stage then he slides MUMB into his satchel, locks the padlock and heads back to the control room.

  Merv Crump. He doesn’t know how special he is.

  Behind me, there’s a roar. Filipp shakes the remote. I pull myself up and, with one last effort, grand jeté into his chest. The only sound as we topple off the edge of the stage is Topsy’s cry of ‘ENCORE!’

  The lake snatches my breath away. Filipp swims towards a black shape in the water. The moon appears from behind the clouds and a boat emerges. L’Odette. An engine splutters and the sound vibrates across the lake. Filipp’s going to get away. He must have planned it all along; a fiery explosion and a watery escape.

  And me? I’ve gone from the frying pan into the freezer. I try to swim after him, but my legs won’t work. My chest is all ice and no air.

  I ache with cold. I’m numb with it. And I’m so very . . .

  . . . very . . .

  . . . sleepy . . .

  ‘MILLY!’

  A soggy hot-water bottle bobs under my chin.

  ‘Hang on to Boris!’ yells Lottie.

  Boris? I feel hands under my arms.

  ‘Lottie – you’ve got to rescue Mum,’ I wheeze. ‘She’s in Meekes.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ says Lottie as she and Spencer tug me into the boat. ‘We won’t let anyfink bad happen to her.’

  ‘Unlike him . . .’ adds Spencer.

  Filipp is slumped over the wheel of the boat.

  ‘I stopped him wiv my Tiger Claw,’ says Lottie.

  ‘Because I told you he was going to use the boat,’ says Spencer.

  Lottie punches Spencer on the arm. ‘Milly’s the one we should be fanking.’

  ‘And Merv,’ I say. ‘If it wasn’t for Merv, we’d be toast.’

  ‘Teamwork,’ says Spencer.

  ‘Teamwork,’ says Lottie.

  ‘Teamwork,’ I say.

  ‘You know what . . . ?’ says Lottie.

  But I don’t hear the rest.

  I think I take a little nap.

  29

  The Scarl
et Slipper

  When I wake up, I have no idea where I am. Buttery sunlight spills across the bedspread. I sit upright and a damp, ginger hot-water bottle slides off my cheek.

  I’ve got my hot-water bottle Boris back but where’s Mum?

  Nurse bustles into the infirmary. ‘Oh, good. You’re awake. You’ve got a queue in the waiting room, you know. I’ve told them they can’t all come in at once.’

  ‘Is my mum out there?’

  Nurse shakes her head. I leap out of bed and my ankle screams.

  Nurse tucks me back under the covers. ‘You’re not going anywhere, young lady.’

  ‘But my mum—’

  ‘No need to panic.’ Nurse draws back the curtain of the bed next to me. ‘Your mum is right here.’

  Mum is fast asleep. There are lines on her face I don’t remember and her brow is slightly furrowed, as if she’s trying to solve a puzzle in her dreams. But twelve months on, she’s as lovely as ever.

  Nurse snaps the curtain shut. ‘We’ve given her a sedative. Poor, brave lady was exhausted with worry, and she still managed to spend half the night talking with Ms Celia. She’ll wake up in a couple of hours.’

  There’s a tap on the door. ‘Can we come in?’ says a no-nonsense voice.

  ‘Don’t come any closer!’ I grab the nearest thing on the trolley next to me, which happens to be a toothbrush. After everything that’s happened, I am understandably suspicious of Ms Celia and the Captain. ‘This isn’t what you think it is. It’s one of Madge’s doobries and it’s loaded!’

  Ms Celia hides a smile. ‘We know Eva isn’t the mole, Milly. We made a mistake. I made a mistake.’ She draws up a chair between the beds and takes my hand. ‘I’m so very, very sorry.’

  The Captain stands at the end of the bed. ‘The real mole was caught on her way to Meekes.’

  ‘You arrested Madame?’

  ‘Yes,’ says Ms Celia. ‘Fortunately we found her before she found Eva.’

  ‘She was going to hurt Mum?’

  ‘She thought Eva knew she was the mole. She’s not talking yet, but luckily we have all the evidence we need on this.’ Ms Celia holds out a charm from Mum’s bracelet. A silver swan covered in diamonds. She twists the neck and it comes apart. ‘It’s your mother’s memory stick. It contains all the information she managed to download from Korolev’s computer. The moment Madame saw it, she guessed what was on it. Madame wasn’t sure how much you knew, so she used Willow to keep an eye on you. Willow didn’t know why, but she was only too happy to oblige.’