like steel cast from molten lava . Sparks fly from her feet . Tears are sweated out until the ducts are barren . Teeth grind and wrists snap and the bruises grow like a world map across her thighs , but she is careful to keep their horizons strictly within the confines of her clothes .
Mr Evans continues to pay attention to her . She can see him as she spins , that single figure in grey garments blurring into an eclipsing cloud . Her vision is engulfed by his amorphous shape . Then , just as she grows dizzy and begins to lose balance , she feels hands grip her shoulders . She stops abruptly , but the world is still reeling when she hears him whisper in her ear ,
‘ One day , there will be soaps and hairbrushes and sweets in your name . You are the next Taglioni . You , my sweet girl are the rising star of Britain .’
Swaying , she hears the chink of gold and squeak of well-polished shoes , before collapsing , finally , her body grateful for this long-desired surrender , into his arms .
*** A shower of blood-red petals , a round of applause and one thought pirouetting in her mind : soaps and hairbrushes and sweets in her name – hers .
Kaya Purchase 15