Page 53 of Last Dance, Second Chance

Jessica gave him a small smile of thanks.

“However,” he continued gently, “you know as well as I do that you won’t be able to dance professionally for ever. Every ballet dancer’s career has a shelf life. You need to be planning ahead and thinking about what you’re going to do when your dancing career comes to an end.”

“I’ve got plenty of time to think about that. I’ve got years of dancing ahead of me!” retorted Jessica, seeing red. “I’d only just been made a principal ballerina before my foot was injured. I’m at the top of my career.”

“Yes, but at some point the descent begins, and if the past couple of weeks has taught you anything it should be that that descent could happen at any time. You need to have a backup plan.”

Jessica’s stomach dropped and she felt sick as all the insecurities and worries she’d carried around for so long flashed into her mind en masse.

“Backup plans just divide your attention and shorten your career faster. You have to give it everything. But I don’t know why I’m explaining myself! I really don’t think it’s your place to tell me what to do with my life!” she said, an edge to her voice as she struggled to control her temper. She failed. “It’s none of your business whether I have a plan for when I retire from ballet, however many years in the future that might be. It’s not like you’re doing such a great job with your own life. You’re divorced and living in a house that’s like a show home, throwing out life advice like you’re some kind of expert! Maybe if you had more of a life yourself, you wouldn’t feel such a need to interfere in everyone else’s. No wonder your wife left you. She probably had passion and drive for something you didn’t approve of and got fed up with you trying to stamp it out of her!”

Jessica regretted her words as soon as they were out of her mouth. The look on Nathan’s face made her say immediately, “Nathan...”

“I think it would be best if you left,” he said quietly.

“I think so too. I can see myself out.” Jessica picked up her crutches and her bag and walked out of the house without looking back.

Chapter Eleven

Jessica was still fuming when she walked to the dance studio the following afternoon. How dare Nathan think he had the right to tell her what to do with her life! Just because he had no passion for anything didn’t mean that everyone should be like that. And it was none of his business what she did with her life anyway.

It was calming to be in the dance studio, though, seeing the teenagers go through the familiar routines. She watched each of them carefully, noting their strengths as well as their weaknesses.

The class finished and the dancers left, leaving just Diana and Jessica.

“Let’s go into my office and we can work our way through the students so you’ve got a better idea of what they’re aiming towards,” Diana said.

Jessica followed Diana into the little office. The last time she’d been in there was when she’d told Diana that she’d been accepted into the ballet school in London. Diana had spent months helping Jessica to prepare for her audition and had been absolutely thrilled to hear her star pupil’s news.

Jessica accepted the seat offered and looked around the room. It hadn’t changed very much since she was last there. She smiled when she spotted a poster of a performance she’d been in of The Nutcracker on the wall. She’d been in the corps when she’d performed in it.

Diana followed her gaze. “Your mother and father were so proud of you when they saw your performance in that. They brought me back the poster as a souvenir.”

Jessica wasn’t sure she remembered her mum and dad coming to see that ballet. She was always so busy before and after a performance, there was little time to speak to anyone who’d come to watch, especially because she would have been sharing a busy, crowded dressing room at the time.

“So, what did you think of the dancers today?” Diana asked.

“I’m afraid I couldn’t see any that had any real potential,” Jessica said, honestly. She felt bad for saying so because she thought Diana did a wonderful job, but she didn’t want to lie. “The girl at the back, I think her name was Poppy, had good arms, and there was a boy, Jason, who showed some promise.”

Diana smiled. “A very fair assessment,” she agreed. “I don’t believe I have any students at the moment who will take up ballet professionally.”

“But”, said Jessica, “what’s the point of the dance school if there isn’t a single student attending who has any real talent?”

“Oh Jessica,” said Diana kindly, “have you got any idea how unusual it is for a dance school of this size, located in a little town, to produce a world-class ballerina? I struck extremely lucky when I taught you, but I doubt I’ll be that lucky again.”

“You’ve been training dancers for more than twenty-five years, and you’ve only had one turn professional? Isn’t that kind of... disappointing?”

“I don’t think so,” Diana said carefully. She was silent for a moment and then continued, “For some, ballet becomes a profession, for others it can be something they enjoy, a way to keep fit, or something to give them confidence or make them feel beautiful. These are all valid reasons for coming to my class, and those dancers are just as important as the ones who show more promise and might want to dance professionally. Take that boy Jason that you mentioned. When he first came here, he was being bullied for being scrawny. He wanted to become stronger but didn’t have any interest in the team sports his school ran. He started dancing and now he lifts weights as well. His confidence has soared and a couple of other boys from his year have joined as well. I don’t teach to produce ballerinas — I teach to pass on my love of ballet.”

“I guess I’ve never seen it like that before,” admitted Jessica. “How did you know teaching was for you?”

“Honestly, I didn’t. I took a chance when I was offered a job, and then set up this school when I discovered I was good at teaching and loved doing it.”

The horrible conversation with Nathan still fresh in her mind, Jessica asked, “Do you mind me asking how old you were when you retired from dancing professionally?”

“Not at all — I was twenty-seven.”

“So young. Were you injured?” Jessica found herself asking. But did she really want to hear the answer? What if Diana admitted she’d broken her foot and that’s what had ended her dancing career?

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