The Sequin Star (2 page)

2
Intermission

The foyer of the theatre was crowded with people all dressed in their finest. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead. The ceiling and walls were decorated with gilt-painted plaster mouldings and cherubs. People laughed and gossiped. Claire sipped on her lemonade and stared around her. She felt very dressed up in her cream lace dress and best shoes. The theatre felt like another world – a world of glamour, beauty and sophistication.

‘Aren't the costumes lovely?' said Mum. ‘All those romantic tutus and elaborate court gowns.'

‘I think the choreography is exceptional tonight,' said Nanna. ‘That peasant
pas de deux
was superb.'

‘I love Giselle,' Claire said. ‘I wish I could dance like her. She just makes it look so easy.'

‘She is quite ethereal,' agreed Nanna. ‘All soft grace in the body and arms, but if you watch her feet and legs, she is incredibly strong and precise.'

‘Just like you, Mum,' joked Claire's mother. ‘Outwardly soft, but inwardly as strong as steel.'

Nanna smiled and rubbed her forehead. ‘Nonsense, Libby. Not these days anyway.'

It was intermission and they were sitting on stools around a little bar table. Nanna, as always, was dressed elegantly in a black gown and jacket – her white hair coiffed, her best jewels on. Nanna, even at her age, still had poise and presence. Mum was also dressed up in a grey silk skirt and high heels.

‘When are the auditions for the ballet concert, Claire?' Nanna asked. ‘You must be busy practising.'

Claire exchanged a look with her mother. Mum pursed her lips.

‘I've decided I don't really want to continue with my dancing,' said Claire, lifting her chin in defiance. ‘I'm so busy at school now, and I really would rather spend more time just hanging out with my friends.'

Mum huffed impatiently. ‘You have plenty of time to spend with your friends, Claire. It seems a shame to give up dancing now. It's important that you keep up your physical activity.'

Claire glanced up at the gilt-moulded ceiling with almost, but not quite, a roll of the eyes.

‘I'm sorry to hear that,' said Nanna, her voice sympathetic. ‘I thought you enjoyed your dancing. I certainly love coming to see your performances.'

Claire pushed her long, dark hair back behind her ear. She smiled at her grandmother.

‘Well, my teacher's really strict and she constantly nags me to practise,' Claire complained. ‘Besides, Lucy Stevens always gets the main part, so there's no point trying out.'

Mum sighed. ‘Lucy is a beautiful dancer
because
she practises, and she has great stage presence.' Mum paused, as though she was about to say more.

‘The secret to having good stage presence is acting,' Nanna assured Claire. ‘You just have to
pretend
you are the character. Imagine you
are
Giselle. Stand tall, smile and dance with passion and precision, and everyone will think you are truly wonderful.'

Nanna demonstrated, lifting her chin, shoulders back, beaming her dazzling smile.

‘It's all right for you, Nanna,' Claire protested. ‘You
were
an actress. It just came naturally to you. I'm not like that.'

Claire's grandmother had been an actress in her younger years. She had been discovered when she was sixteen and starred in a dozen or so movies, acting in Hollywood and England in the 1930s and early '40s, before her marriage. Nanna didn't talk about it very often, but Mum had said she was quite famous in her day.

Nanna cupped Claire's cheek. ‘Nothing just
comes
to most people, Claire. Anyone can be good at anything; to be excellent you need to work hard and keep practising.'

Nanna smiled and put her glass down on the table. ‘Perhaps we should go back to our seats now. I'm a bit slow these days, and I hate battling back through a big, stifling crowd. The second half should be wonderful.'

Mum helped Nanna up and they made stately progress towards the stairs. Claire felt a wave of affection – Nanna looked stylish, even using her wooden walking stick.
I wish
I had Nanna's poise
, thought Claire.
If I had her natural grace, I'm sure I could be a beautiful dancer
.

She followed Nanna and Mum as they strolled towards the stairs, lost in her thoughts. She could hear them talking about the sets.

They were heading up the stairs to the theatre door when it happened: one moment Nanna was painstakingly climbing the red carpeted stairs, the next she had fallen and tumbled backwards. Nanna lay crumpled like a ragdoll on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Mum screamed and ran towards her. Claire stood still, her heart thumping, watching everything unfold like a dream.

Down below, the foyer glittered with crystal chandeliers and gilded mirrors. Suddenly everyone stopped talking. Someone gasped. Ushers ran forward to help. Claire clattered down the stairs after her mother, her heart pounding.
What happened to Nanna? Is she badly hurt?

Mum knelt beside Nanna's fallen body. There was a gash on the side of Nanna's head where she'd hit the floor. Blood ran down her face and her mouth sagged open.

‘
Mum, Mum
,' Claire's mother begged. ‘Can you hear me?'

There was no answer. Mum desperately searched for a pulse. Ushers and patrons had huddled around. Claire looked up, feeling helpless and claustrophobic. She suddenly hated all these people staring at Nanna.

A woman in a green silk dress hurried over and knelt by Nanna's side.

‘I'm a doctor,' she explained. ‘Can everyone step back, please.' She turned towards an usher. ‘Call an ambulance. Tell them to hurry.'

The doctor checked Nanna's breathing and pulse, then rolled her into the recovery position. Mum knelt down beside Nanna, holding her hand, her eyes bright with tears. Nanna finally moved and moaned.

Claire exhaled raggedly. She dropped to her knees beside her mother, who hugged her tightly.

‘Will Nanna be all right?' begged Claire.

‘I'm sure she will,' Mum replied, but she couldn't meet Claire's eyes.

‘The ambulance will be here soon,' the doctor assured Claire. ‘They'll take your grandmother to hospital, where they can check her thoroughly and perhaps run some tests. They'll be able to find out what the problem is. Does she have a history of fainting?'

Mum shook her head. ‘No, never. She's always been so healthy.'

It seemed to take forever for the ambulance to arrive. Claire and her mother sat on the floor beside Nanna, Mum holding her suddenly frail-looking hand.

The rest of the audience shuffled back inside the theatre for the second act. Claire could hear the orchestra music through the closed doors. Finally the ambulance crew arrived and loaded Nanna onto a stretcher. She was conscious but dazed and confused, unable to answer the questions the ambulance officer asked.

The doctor smiled at Mum. ‘She's in good hands now. Good luck. I hope everything is okay.'

Mum's eyes filled with tears. ‘Thank you so much for your help.'

The doctor hurried into the theatre to watch the rest of the performance. Claire clung to her mother as they followed the stretcher out to the ambulance, where an emergency medical technician told them which hospital Nanna would be taken to. Mum calmed herself and rang Dad to let him know what had happened, then followed the ambulance.

On the drive, Claire felt sick with worry. She thought about her grandmother, who had always simply been there for her, a rock that held the family in place. She suddenly realised that she had hardly seen Nanna in weeks. She had been so busy with school, ballet, homework and friends. When did Nanna suddenly become frail? What if Nanna didn't get better?

Dad was waiting for them at the hospital, and Claire flung herself into his arms. He held Mum close while she cried on his shoulder.

It was a long night waiting under the bright fluorescent lights in Emergency. The waiting room was filled with injured and ill patients and their fearful families, while the hospital staff rushed about. Nanna, still incoherent, was finally admitted to a ward at about midnight.

‘The confusion is probably caused by the bump to her head,' explained one of the young doctors. ‘But we will run some proper tests tomorrow. Why don't you all go home, get some sleep and try not to worry too much?'

Early the next morning, Mum rang the hospital and they warned her that Nanna would need to stay in for a few days. After the late, anxious night, Claire hadn't wanted to go to school. She was keen to see Nanna in hospital and make sure she was all right.

First, Claire and her mum drove to Nanna's apartment in Greenwich to collect some belongings. Nanna lived in a two-bedroom apartment in a retirement village, which Mum always joked was more like a luxury resort, complete with swimming pool, landscaped gardens and a spacious reception lobby.

The front door to the apartment creaked open as Mum unlocked it. Claire could smell the floral scent of Nanna's favourite perfume, a mixture of jasmine and rose.

Mum put a pile of mail on the spindly-legged table in the entrance hall.

‘I rang Nola and asked her not to come today,' said Mum. Nola was the housekeeper, who came for a few hours each day to help Nanna with cooking and household chores.

The apartment was elegant and spacious, with antique furniture and thick carpets underfoot. It was filled with treasures that Nanna and Grandpa had discovered on their travels overseas.

Claire felt a pang as she walked down the hall. The apartment was so empty without Nanna. Her grandmother was always so full of life and witty conversation. Claire had always loved coming to visit her grandmother here when she was younger. Sometimes she had come during the holidays to stay in the tiny second bedroom, which Nanna used as a study. She hadn't been for ages – Claire couldn't think why she had stopped staying over.

Mum opened the hall cupboard and took down a small suitcase. She headed into the master bedroom and put the suitcase on the bed with the lid open.

‘Nighties, underwear, dressing gown, slippers and toiletries,' read Mum, checking her list. Mum opened a drawer and took out some nightdresses, which she laid in the suitcase.

Claire opened an engraved silver box on the dressing table. It was filled with beautiful jewellery that glittered and sparkled in the sunlight. There was a thick rope of lustrous pearls. A large emerald ring with a matching necklace. Rubies, amethysts and sapphires in pendants, brooches, rings and earrings. Several gold bracelets. A diamond brooch.

‘Oh,' said Mum. ‘I keep telling Nanna that she should store her jewellery in the safe. But she says she would never wear any of it if it was put away.'

‘Nanna has so much beautiful jewellery,' said Claire. ‘Is it from when she was a Hollywood star?'

Mum scooped up an amethyst ring and played with it between her fingers.

Claire picked up the oval diamond brooch, held it up to the neck of her blue singlet top and examined her reflection in the mirror above the dressing table – pale skin, grey-blue eyes and long dark hair brushed back in a ponytail. The diamond brooch looked too precious to be worn by a slip of a girl.

‘Some of it, like that brooch, is family jewellery that belonged to my grandmother,' Mum explained. She put the amethyst ring back in the box. ‘My dad's family was very wealthy. Plus, Dad used to spoil her endlessly with gorgeous presents. He loved her very much.'

Claire nodded as her heart grew heavy. Claire's grandfather, Kit Hunter, had died a few years ago. He had been an old-fashioned gentleman, always impeccably dressed with charming manners and a ready smile.

‘I think we'd better take the jewellery home with us so I can lock it away somewhere safe. I don't like leaving all these valuables lying around while no one's here.'

Claire added the brooch to the overflowing jewellery box, which Mum popped into her handbag.