He hated things not being in order, and that included emotions. I knew that, and he was trying to calm things down in his own way, but I couldn’t see how he could, because it felt like my whole career was at stake here. My happiness, mylife, really. And I had a point to prove that they just did not seem to be getting.
‘Shall I start by telling you how all of this happened?’ I suggested. ‘And then you can carry on vilifying me if you still want to.’
Mum huffed and grumbled, but she did take a seat, and Dad perched on the arm of her chair.
‘I’m waiting,’ said Mum, crossing her arms.
I proceeded to tell them the whole story – about Carlos, his audition, him catching me dancing. That Gabriele was looking for a particular connection with a partner – that we knew each other vaguely from the World Championships. I obviously missed out the mind-blowing sex bit.
Afterwards, they seemed a little appeased – at least Ihadn’t gone chasing it, they said, that was something; the job had literally presented itself to me, had dropped into my lap.
‘We thought you were happy here at the studio,’ said Dad. ‘We didn’t think you wanted to dance anymore.’
I bit my lip, wondering how much to say; how honest I could be.
‘Iamhappy. But I’m also wondering if I might also want… something more?’
‘Well then you should have spoken up!’ said Mum. ‘You’re making us sound like terrible parents.’
‘Of course that’s not what I’m saying,’ I said, raising my voice again. What was happening to me?! ‘And yes, I am partly to blame. I should have been more open about how I was feeling. But it’s not like I’ve been faking it this whole time – I really enjoy running the studio. And you have to admit, I do a good job.’
I looked at them, daring them to say that I didn’t. Mum nodded reluctantly.
‘Of course you do. And we appreciate it, we always have.’
Okay, this was good. We all appeared to be calming down.
‘But I’m still young enough – just about – to do something else with my life. And I miss dancing, I miss it with my entire soul. You know how that feels, I know you do. And now I’ve got this chance to do this exciting thing and I couldn’t turn it down,’ I explained.
Hopefully, in a minute, somebody would say congratulations. That they were proud of me, pleased for me. But the longer the simmering silence went on, the more I realized that they were too worried about how this would impactthemto celebrate my good fortune. My being cast in a show was nothing more than an inconvenience.
Mum and Dad stood up, followed by a disgruntled-looking Sedi. I wasn’t sure how long we’d all been bickering, but if it was close to one, there was a good chance Gabriele could rock up at any moment. He’d have no idea what he was walking into and I didn’t want him knowing how difficult things were for me – I thought he’d probably find it all quite pathetic. I doubted he was afraid of telling his parents exactly what he did and didn’t want to do.
‘We’ll leave you to it, then,’ said Mum.
‘I think that’s best,’ I said. ‘Oh, and it’s press night tonight, if you wanted to come, Sedi. Shall I put your name on the door?’
She shifted uncomfortably, her gold hoops sparkling in the light.
‘I had made other plans,’ she said, huffily.
I was seriously lost as to what I was supposed to have done toher. Why was she acting as though I’d wronged her, when all I’d done was follow my dreams – something she’d been doing since she was old enough to talk? I felt sick as I watched all three of them leave with none of the usual hugs and kisses. I’d never seen them so angry with me – and I’d never been so mad atthem. I knew it must have come asa shock, but I couldn’t believe they hadn’t been even the tiniest bit happy for me.
Exhausted by the effort of trying to keep it together, I took Sedi’s place in the armchair, where finally the enormity of it all hit me. I tried to take a deep, calming breath, but instead it turned into a sob, and then another, and before I knew it, I had tears streaming down my cheeks. I’d get up and find a tissue in a minute, but for now it actually felt quite cathartic. Maybe trying not to cry when you felt shit wasn’t good for you after all.
I was wallowing so much that I wasn’t aware of the studio door opening until it was too late.
‘Lira? What is wrong?’
Gabriele strode over to where I was sitting, looming over me with a look of concern on his face. He crouched down so that his eyes were in line with mine and I squirmed under his gaze, not wanting him to see me like this. I must look horrendous.
‘I’m fine,’ I said, sniffing wildly. ‘Honestly.’
‘You do not look fine,’ he quite rightly said, rummaging in his bag and pulling out a packet of tissues before thrusting one into my hands.
I took it gratefully, wondering how I could blow my nose with him staring at me – hardly an attractive sight, was it? I dabbed at it instead, which, of course, had little to no effect.
‘Want to talk about it?’ he asked softly, his brow creased with what I could only guess was sympathy. I hadn’tthought him capable of such an emotion, so if anything useful had come out of this mortifying episode, perhaps it was the knowledge that he did have a heart after all.
