The first time Derek cornered him in the wings like this it was his first week. Standing in the wings trying to learn all the men’s parts in the wedding dance, Derek came too close and stood next to him, the diesel-and-chip-fat smell of him pungent in Luke’s nostrils. That first time, he gave him a warm smile because he was desperately lonely and he wanted to show he was friendly.
So what’ll do it for you?Derek had whispered with a suggestive leer and for a long moment Luke hadn’t had a clue what he was talking about.Excuse me?He’d looked politely away from the stage although he really didn’t want to – he didn’t want to be caught talking in the wings. His teachers at ballet school had been firm in saying that was Not Allowed, but there he was, stuck between the rules of theatre and the rules of life, a place he’s not been able to escape since.Are you for todgers or tits? Derek had said gleefully and Danny, passing with an armful of act one props, rolled his eyesand said,Give him a chance, Derek mate, he’s not been here five minutes.Luke had felt his face burn in the dark.Both, I suppose, he’d said quietly, feeling the floor swoop beneath him. Why did he say that? What on earth possessed him?
But Derek had nodded.Respect that, he’d said.Backing both horses, fair enough, and smirked before he moved away. And as Luke watched him go he realised Derek had not expected him to answer. The idea had been humiliation and by answering – truthfully – Luke had willingly lain on the ground in front of a predator with belly and throat exposed.
Not that Derek was much of a predator. By the end of the week, Luke had realised Derek was one of those scavengers who goes around squeezing shame and humiliation and resentment out of people and lapping at the puddles. By the end of the next week he’d realised everyone else onThe Apple and the Pearlalready knew that and not a single one of them had warned him.
By now, a month later, he’s understood that the rest of the cast and crew see something similar in him and Derek, something kindred in their lonely awkwardness. A part of him was offended and another part – perhaps a bigger part – wonders if they are all right and he should just give in to it. But knowing you might one day become irredeemable isn’t the same thing as being already irredeemable so he still tries to avoid Derek. Except now it is too late. He is stuck until he can escape on to the stage at the beginning of the hunting dance.
Derek nods up the ladder to where Zach had disappeared.
‘He’ll be wearing deodorant tomorrow,’ Derek mutters, with a meaningful look at Luke as though they’re conspirators. ‘Deferring to the sensibilities of the fairer sex, as if I haven’t had to put up with his stink all these years.’
Luke is saved from having to dredge up some kind of response to this by the dimming of the house lights. He hears AJ’s baton rap three times on the lectern and there is a hush. Even Derek is quiet. This is Luke’s favourite part of the show, this suspension before each act when everything in all the worlds that the Grub and Grit straddle is suspended in the delicate web held between AJ’s upturned palms, Charlie’s red light and all the molecules of salt in all the pockets.
Charlie says, ‘Tabs,’ and there is a swish of curtains as the violins begin.
Derek moves closer. ‘Had a good show?’
‘Ok, thanks.’ He should just walk away, he knows it; it’s what everyone else does.
Derek leans in further and Luke sees that it’s pointless to try to avoid it: this is just a penance he must perform for some unknown sin. Derek’s got something to say and he’s decided he’s going to say it to him.
‘You ever wondered how we manage to have a full house every night?’ Derek asks. He’s got his hands thrust deep into his pockets and is swinging back and forth on his heels. ‘You’d think every elf, goblin, imp and sprite from John o’ Groats to Land’s End has seen this bloody show by now, wouldn’t you?’
‘I guess so.’ He’s found the best thing to do is just to lethim talk, give him no encouragement and wait for it to end.
‘It’s just logic.’
Luke shrugs, despite himself. ‘What about this show is logical?’
‘It makes sense to me.’ Derek lowers his voice and Luke stares at the stage where Harriet is stepping into thearabesque penchéethat all the girls dread. Derek’s whisper merges with the violins and Luke has the strange sensation of his mind splitting, like one half of him can hear Derek and the music and the other half is watching Harriet as she wobbles a little.
‘Every tree, every rock, every pool of peat bog, every piddling little hill has at least a sprite, maybe even a whole Fae court attached to it. How many can the Grit seat – four, maybe five hundred? Tiny, really. And you know what, once upon a time you’d know the names of every single one of them like they was your family. Every single thing in the world would have had its name and its soul, and when they came here to watch the show the dancers and the musicians and the dogsbody likes of us would have saidHello, how are you, hope you enjoy the show. A kind of worship, you know?’
It takes Luke a moment to register that Derek has finished, and two halves of him slam together. He blinks and glances at Derek who is rocking on the soles of his boots in triumph, like he’s figured something out of extreme importance.
‘Right,’ says Luke, feeling a buzzing behind his right ear that is probably another symptom of whatever virus is multiplying in his sinuses. He has no idea what on earth to say to Derek, he never does. ‘Right.’
But he is saved by the sight of Cecile in the wings, fingering the beads of pink salt at her neck, watching Harriet on stage. She glances at them, her mouth tightens at the sight of Derek – or maybe him, he can’t be sure – then looks back at the stage.At least she’s seen me, Luke thinks. He tries not to cower.At least she’s registered I’m trying.
Derek follows Luke’s gaze.
‘Ah, I see. The queen demands silence, I get it. Don’t want to land you in it, mate.’ Derek mimes drawing a zip across his lips and Luke wishes there really were jagged bits of metal he could shove into his mouth to shut him up. Then he is conspicuously, blessedly silent.
Harriet finishes her sequence offouettéson one bended knee, her arms open in supplication to the flies, and then she is surrounded by Jessica, Bella and Anita wearing the green dresses of the orchard dance. They each smile brightly at her and Luke can see their smiles are genuinely delighted, their eyes full of encouragement, and Harriet looks back at each of them in turn, tearfully grateful. Luke swallows a cough that has become a lump of disappointment in his throat.The Apple and the Pearlis not a harsh, dog-eat-dog world. There is kindness and support and laughter here. Just not for him.
Pull yourself together, he thinks, the voice in his head belonging to his grandmother.I cannot abide snivelling. The trumpet sounds a trill and Dan leaps onto the stage, runs to Anita and takes her waist to lift her. Another trumpet trill and Solomon leaps, runs to Bella and lifts her. The third trumpet brings Ritchie on to grab Jessica, and Luke creepsforward, craning his neck to see. This is why he hangs about in the wings every night to risk getting ensnared in Derek’s personality disorder; he has to learn this dance, and since nobody will teach it to him at the pace he needs he’s going to have to keep showing up and watching it from different angles until he’s got it.
Tonight he’s focusing on the part Ritchie’s dancing. He almost knows it, although he’s never done any of the partner work or lifts, and Cecile will inevitably shout at him when he gets the spacing wrong. He’s hoping Cecile will call a rehearsal for him to practice, though that might be a little optimistic. He needs one of the girls to guide him through it but the thought of going to one of them to ask if they could spare half an hour to help him makes him feel sweaty. He imagines Zuleika curling her lip.Ten minutes, new boy. I’m busy.
Ritchie flings Jessica up into the air and catches her inarabesquein his arms. Luke leans to see how his left arm is holding her but they’re spinning and he can’t see, and by the time they’re facing him again Jessica is starting the sequence ofpique pirouettesaway from him. Shit, he’s missed it again.
The three couples of the orchard dance run off stage hand in hand as Benji walks on and stands in the stage left corner to begin his solo. Luke wants to creep forward again so he’s as close as he can be without actually being on stage but he’s afraid people in the wings will think he’s trying to learn the Red Suitor too.Sort yourself out in the corps before you get ideas, he can imagine Josh sneering.
He will probably never dance the Red Suitor. He’s simplynot talented enough, and although that thought used to smart, he’s accepted it now. Since he first arrived at ballet school and found that he was merely a mediocre dancer, pleasant enough to watch, he’s been taking out that knowledge from the shameful part of himself where he hides it and examining it from different angles, until it no longer hurts.
Benji is what you’d call talented. His lines are clean and he moves like water. Technically accomplished, but not prodigious, he has a way of moving his head and shoulders that makes you sigh a little, like you’re watching something beautiful that will soon fade – a sunset or the blooming of a flower. He finishes his solo and Harriet comes on stage. They smile at each other, a private acknowledgement of all the hours of rehearsal that have led them here, and Harriet drops into a deep curtsey to begin theirpas de deux.
