Circus Excite (25 page)

It was dancing with the discipline and grace of her training, but now she was so suffused with the pervasive movements of seduction, Julia knew her body lent a new sensuality to the actions. She was all curving leg muscles, rounded ass and softly swelling breasts, the lines of her drawn like one of Robert's lithographs, depicting a woman whose life revolved around the pleasure her own body brought her. Instead of trying
to keep her movements straight-backed and cold, Julia found she was happy to give in to this new swaying sensuality. As she danced over the stage, her thighs rubbed gently together and excited her sex, and she felt her silky smooth skin tingle with arousal. She was using the movements of a stripper, bucking herself against the floor, rubbing slowly against the dusty canvas of the stage so that her body rocked upward, pushing her breasts out as though presenting them to be fondled.

While she felt her arousal grow, Julia let her thoughts drift back to Robert, his face as he surveyed her, as he flicked through his pornographic scrapbooks.

He was her audience, she realised; even in his absence she was aware of his intense horny gaze. And every movement she made was an effort to bring him closer to her, to show him a little more of her inner sexual life. Her dancing slowed as she let the images run through her mind – Robert watching her as Joe fucked her; as Sylvie licked her; taking photos; as she was passed between the two men he'd arranged for her; his collection of pictures; his voracious appetite for the spectacle of sex. She almost came to a standstill on the dark stage as she let the idea form slowly in her head. Standing with her arms hanging loosely by her sides, Julia suddenly realised what she had to do.

With a mixture of fear and excitement, she let the plan form, imagining a new dance, an act that centred on her summer's adventures, a mixture of voyeurism and provocation. Looking around at the rows of seats circling the stage, Julia imagined the audience, their reactions. She visualised a performance that they would be an integral part of – a show that they would never forget, that would turn them on and disturb them in equal measures. In her imagination, the seats filled with eager horny audience members, and the glint of the
lights caught in their eyes, reflecting back the dazzling orgiastic display of the stage. She thought of the men in Blackpool, their hunger to touch her. She remembered Robert's camera, his desire to capture the image of her, the sight of her undone and splayed open.

Walking slowly back and forth across the stage, occasionally slipping into a loose dance move, Julia pondered. As she let the sweat cool on her skin, she allowed herself to fantasise. By the time she climbed down from the stage, wiping her neck with her shirt, she was biting her lip in concentration.

It was a new kind of arousal. The idea had turned her on, in a very real way: she felt the warmth spreading from her core to the tips of her nipples, like the familiar agitation she felt when she worked with Robert. Julia was horny, as she often was after her performances, but this time she wanted more than to relieve her frustration with mindless fucking. This time her arousal was making ideas well up in her, thoughts that tumbled into forms, into movement. She was dreaming of a new dance, a new act.

As she returned to the caravan, half entranced with the vision that was forming in her mind, Julia remembered her inspiration – the picture of Baker in the Dance of the Savages – and resolved to work for this new dream of hers with more dedication than ever before.

She had hung the photograph above her bed and let Sylvie admire the figure of the young Josephine with her. Beautiful as her nubile body was, there was another quality that drew Julia to the photograph. It was some spark of daring, of rebellious spirit, that made her shake her head in admiration when she imagined the teenaged Baker flinging herself onto the Paris stage and causing a scandalous reaction with her naked, sexual dance.

Sylvie drew her finger over the curves of the photograph, murmuring as she did so.

‘The beautiful form,
n'est ce pas
? It gives me a buzz just looking at her.'

‘Sylvie,' said Julia slowly, thinking as she spoke, ‘you choreographed your own act, didn't you?'

‘Of course I did.' Sylvie almost spat with fierce pride. ‘From the very first conception to the last stitch of the costume.'

Julia nodded. She knew she wouldn't be able to pull off the new idea that was slowly forming without help from others. She could count on Sylvie, Joe and Henri, she was sure. But the visions she had in mind would need more than able performers. She would need lights, music, costumes.

Looking at the photo again, Julia studied the beads and feathers of the dancers, the minimal costumes that had caused such mayhem in 1920s European society. Josephine wore a curling plume of an ostrich feather between her legs, and smiled as though it tickled her deliciously. Her nakedness was enhanced by the shocking scant costume. Julia knew the value of dressing a nude figure just enough to provoke the audience's imagination.

‘Eva has a stack of old costumes in the trailer, doesn't she? Left over stuff from old shows?' she asked.

‘No doubt. She never throws anything away.' Sylvie shrugged. She eyed Julia curiously, aware that the new girl was acting in a manner that she hadn't seen before, with a confidence and mysterious determination that Sylvie thought she recognised.

‘Julia,' she asked, ‘what exactly went on last night in Robert's caravan? What are you planning?'

There were four days till the circus opened in Edinburgh, and the performers were making the most of the break,
taking in the riotous buzz of the city in full Festival swing. It was as if, Julia thought, the whole city was a circus, a non-stop pageant of spectacle and theatre that engulfed the ancient streets and filled the town with colour. The performers left the site almost deserted, heading into town every afternoon and returning in the small hours of the morning. The circus fell quiet in these hours, when usually groups of the company chatted outside their caravans and practised acrobatics out on the grass. For a few days, Julia realised, she would have the time and space she needed to develop her idea. The tent was set up and lying empty, and she could practise onstage without interruption.

While the other members of the company indulged in all the pleasures of the swarming streets and bars, Julia worked. The germ of an idea that had come to her as she danced was now gathering momentum, and she found the people she asked for help were as intrigued by the plan as she was. Eva seemed more than willing to put together costumes, finding armfuls of ostrich feathers and sequins in crates in the costume van, advising Julia on how to fix the outfits so that they draped well and allowed the performer to move easily. Julia had little time, but found Eva's expert eye could put together an outfit with lightning speed, knowing just which parts of the body to emphasise, which to hide under tantalising strings of beads or scraps of silk. It took only a couple of hours to come to an agreement with the older woman, who was excited to be working on something more intriguing than mending hems. Julia left her with sketches of figures and costumes, and a promise that the costumes would be finished in time for the rehearsal.

She spent hours with Joe examining the lighting board, working out how to use coloured gels and spotlights to enhance the movement onstage, planning her
spectacle in minute detail. It was a new aspect of performing that she hadn't considered before – thinking of the best ways to realise her initial vision and working out how to get the effects right onstage was something that had always been left to others. But she enjoyed working with Joe, their rough banter and hastily snatched fumbles under the shadow of the lighting box providing some moments of laughter even as Julia's anxiety grew. She flirted with him just enough to keep him interested in the project, promising later he could join her for a celebratory fuck if the show came off well. But despite her flippant promises, she was aware of the dangerous territory she was treading. The preparations would be the easiest part.

The hardest would be persuading Robert to watch it, and she thought with trepidation of the time when she'd have to confront him. He'd been withdrawn and virtually absent since the company arrived in Edinburgh, hardly leaving his quarters. Although she felt she'd lightened his mood that night in the caravan, Julia knew the threat of disaster was weighing on his mind. The review had subdued their arrival in Edinburgh, and the shadow of bad press still hung over the circus. She knew Robert bore the heaviest burden of the pressure, but she needed to find a way to get through to him. Leaving the problem to later, she concentrated on her frantic preparations, and confronted the other problem which had dogged her since she conceived the idea.

Her act included some complex tech gear, and Julia despaired of how she would find the money for the equipment she needed – until she explained to Henri exactly what she wanted to do. After a few hours, he turned up at the site in a van, the back of which was filled with sleek black suitcases and neatly coiled cables. With a smile he explained to Julia that he had contacts
in a theatre in town, and he'd managed to borrow most of what she needed for a couple of weeks.

‘Henri, this is amazing. You are amazing,' Julia said, overwhelmed, reaching up high to nuzzle into the older man's cheek. ‘I owe you big time.'

She looked over the complicated machinery, the tiny buttons labelled with incomprehensible names and colour-coded wires. The thought of what she was trying to do suddenly overwhelmed her, and she felt panic rising in her.

‘Henri, how do I work all this stuff? It's a nightmare.'

Henri just smiled his sorrowful enigmatic smile, and tapped the side of his nose.

‘You leave the detail to your technical staff, Julia. If you're going to be a stage manager, you have to learn to delegate.'

He gave her an affectionate squeeze, before letting his long bony fingers trace a gentle line over her cleavage.

‘You bring us the juicy ideas, my dear, and we'll help bring your dreams to life.'

As her plan became more detailed, and involved more people, Julia felt her energy levels rise to fever pitch. She was working harder than she ever had before, enlisting the help of the stage crew and her fellow performers, cajoling them to help with a mixture of pleading and flirtation, swearing all of them to secrecy for fear of Robert getting a whiff of what was going on. As the days passed horrifyingly swiftly, Julia was more and more keenly aware of how crucial it would be to take him by surprise. She knew he wasn't a man to be easily persuaded, and the danger was that she was straying into his territory by planning a new act, daring to compete with a man of vast experience and charisma. Yet her determination grew along with her anxieties, as
though the project had become something larger than herself. As she rehearsed the moves of the piece by herself in the tent, Julia sensed she was creating something that went beyond a dazzling piece of showmanship. The central idea of the piece was so dangerous it gave her thrills to think of it. She had no idea of how the audience might react, and was mindful of stories of the chaos that ensued after Josephine Baker's debut – crowds leaving the theatre, shocked and bewildered.

But none of her misgivings seemed to dissuade her. She was intent on giving this idea her best, putting all of her feelings on sex and her body, on theatre and the audience, into a single ten-minute explosion of incredible sensory overload.

After three days, Julia knew she couldn't delay the moment any longer. Robert would have to see the show. There was a dress rehearsal that afternoon, a refresher after the company had rested for those few days, and now was the only time to show him. Robert would be in the tent, overseeing the final preparations.

Trembling with nerves, she entered the tent and waited for her eyes to adjust to the murky light inside. He was standing by the curtains, watching the boys adjust the lights, a morose look on his face. Julia was unnerved by the change in him – before, Robert had been a silent presence, but his being there was enough to drive the company to its utmost efforts. Today, he looked pale and worried, as though he was uncertain of his own decisions. Julia approached with a sense of foreboding, steeling herself to ask his permission for an unheard-of favour.

‘No, Julia. Absolutely not.' He frowned at her. ‘Why aren't you in costume? Get your ass into Eva's trailer and get ready. Now.'

‘Robert, please. I haven't ever asked for a favour before . . .' Julia trailed off as he turned his back on her. He was looking over a lighting plot with the sparky and ignoring her already. Julia felt her determination rise up like steel in her spine.

‘You owe me this much,' she said quietly, reminding him of his time alone with her in the caravan. ‘Just let me show you what I've done.' She watched as Robert fell silent, letting his shoulders drop. When he turned back to her, it was with an expression that seemed so ashen and exhausted, she wanted to reach out and warm his cheek with the palm of her hand. When he spoke, however, his voice was as cold and deep as an empty well, and she knew he was as distant as ever.

‘Ten minutes. I'll watch what you've got. No hold-ups, and no other chances. Understood?'

Julia nodded, a knot of anticipation and fear welling up in her.

‘And Julia, just promise me – this act will turn me on, won't it?'

‘I hope so, Robert. I truly hope so.'

News of Julia's act had spread round the site, and by the time three o'clock approached, the entire company was assembled in the tent, most in costume and ready for the rehearsal afterwards. Only Julia and her cohorts were absent from the seats, waiting tensely backstage, Sylvie restlessly pacing back and forth, Julia whispering last-minute instructions to the sound engineer. Outside, the company made a loud and animated audience, already calling for the show to start. It was unheard of for a young, green performer to press the ringmaster into auditioning a new act, and Julia heard Rachel's derisory shouts with a sinking heart.