Nine months before the wedding.
I DIDN’T KNOW anything about contemporary dance, but I soon learned Justin was a big name in that world. He’d acquired funding a few years earlier to renovate an old fire station near Euston as a home for the company. The building held not only rehearsal studios but a small theatre, and The Fire Station, as it was now known, had become something of a creative hub.
Justin had decided to do an ‘intimate’ preview of the four-dance programme he’d been working on, a chance for both press and fellow artists to get a sneak peek at his new work and create a buzz about it a couple of weeks before a ten-day run at Sadler’s Wells.
The only snag was that the performance was a month away and Haru was rehearsing to a rough piano track that Felix had recorded, which wasn’t ideal, but I wasn’t due to record the violin track for another week or so. However, since I was now living full time at Justin’s flat, he heard me rehearsing the piece frequently, and it had only served to highlight to him the difference between the two versions. The violin had a different emotional tone, he’d explained, something that Haru would need to adjust to when he danced.As a result, he asked me to come and play at a rehearsal one Friday afternoon.
I arrived at The Fire Station clutching Octavia to me. The building had a beautiful red-brick Victorian frontage and had been extended at various times over the decades, resulting in a complicated layout. Justin led me up a flight of stairs and through a dizzying succession of corridors before opening the door to a large and airy rehearsal space. I took my shoes off to protect the sprung beechwood floor and nodded a greeting to Haru, who was warming up on the other side of the room.
‘It’s just the three of us going to be here,’ Justin said, rubbing my back with the flat of his palm. ‘You’ll be fine.’
I nodded, hoping he was right, but my stomach quivered uncontrollably.
I started to play, but while I was hitting all the right notes and keeping tempo, it sounded scratchy and harsh. Justin must have heard the difference, too, because halfway through the second attempt, he held up his hand. Haru had just ended a spectacular turning jump by rolling on the floor, and he hauled himself up, breathing hard. I brought my violin down from my chin.
‘Sorry,’ I said quietly. ‘I’m nervous.’
Justin merely smiled and walked over to me. He led me to the corner of the studio, put his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face the wall. ‘Pretend we’re not here,’ he said, but then, as I began to play, he stayed close to me, keeping his hand on my back as a point of contact.
Standing facing the corner, feeling his warm palm through my blouse, the universe shrank down to just the two of us. I began the piece again, and this time I did it the way it was meant to be played,with soaring highs and lows, the notes woven together with emotion.
When I finished, Justin kissed me on the forehead. ‘There. I told you that you could do it.’
On the final run-through, I managed to turn around and watch Haru. When it ended, Justin walked over and hugged me. ‘That was astounding! The best time yet!’
‘I couldn’t have done it without you, without your encouragement.’
‘That’s because we’re a great team,’ he said, then lowered his voice so only I could hear. ‘You and I were always meant to be.’
Once again, I was tempted to pinch myself. Had I slipped into an alternate reality, one where it was possible for someone like Justin to adore me this way?
‘Now I’ve seen you on stage with Haru,’ Justin said thoughtfully, ‘I wonder … It added so much depth to the piece to have you there too. Do you think …? Would you be able to …?’ He raised his eyebrows, and the quiver in my stomach returned. I had a horrible feeling I knew what he was about to ask. ‘Do you think you’d be able to play it live?’
There it was. Exactly what I’d been dreading.
The worst thing was that I knew he was right. I’d sensed the energy flowing between Haru and me as we performed in unison. Itwouldbe better than playing a track.
‘Six months ago, you wouldn’t have believed you could play in front of a huge crowd in Covent Garden,’ he reminded me gently. ‘You’re stronger than you think you are. It might be time to push yourself once again, the way you did that first morning when you headed up to London with your violin.’
‘The day we met,’ I replied quietly, the significance not lost on me.
‘I know you’re scared, but we have another month before the preview. I really think you can do this.’
I wanted to believe him. In fact, I did believe him – or at least, I believed that he had unwavering faith in me. The only problem was that I wasn’t so sure I had it in myself. ‘It took me half an hour before I could play properly in front of you and Haru. How am I going to play in front of a whole audience?’
‘The theatre here only holds three hundred, max.’
Three hundred. A shiver shot through me. Even though that was tiny compared to some performance venues, it was as if I could suddenly sense the audience in the studio with us, row upon row of phantom bodies, all with piercing bright eyes.
‘Justin … You know I would do anything for you, but …’ I swallowed and tried to still my stomach. ‘Are you sure this is a good idea? What if I freeze? What if I vomit right there on stage? I’ll ruin your big moment. I don’t want to do that to you.’
Justin took my violin from me and laid it and the bow reverently on top of the upright piano in the corner of the room, then he returned and held my hands in his, looked deep into my eyes. ‘This isn’t just about me – it’s about you. I think you owe it to yourself to try.’
There was such adoration in his eyes. I felt so loved, so special. My heart cracked a little. I squeezed his hands, hard. ‘I want to. For you.’
Haru walked over to us, throwing a hoodie on over his dance clothes. ‘Why not add in a safety net?’
Justin frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
