Read Online Corpse de Ballet by Ellen Pall - Free Book Online Page B

your arthritis. Poor Ruth! You have paid a high price for your career.”
    Ruth sniffed briskly. “Beats getting black lung from mining coal. All occupations have hazards. Even you could get carpal tunnel syndrome, I guess. Or start to believe you’re Jane Austen reincarnated.”
    Ruth, Juliet now remembered, did not care for pity unless she had specifically requested it. “Plenty of dancers are in my boat,” she was going on. “Victorine takes the same medicines I do. In fact, she’s a lot worse off. Anyway,” she finished at last, pointedly changing the subject, “I talked to Greg.”
    â€œOh good. And what’s he going to do?”
    â€œJack shit.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œNo, not quite.” She drank again from the lemonade bottle. “He’ll tell Anton what happened. And he’ll tell him to keep it to himself. As for the rest, he’ll send a flyer around the company saying a ‘malicious incident’ took place and anyone with information should contact him privately.”
    â€œâ€˜Malicious incident?’ Isn’t that a bit vague?”
    Ruth shrugged. “He says he doesn’t want to invite a copycat crime.”
    â€œDo you think he’ll get any results?” Juliet asked doubtfully.
    â€œNo. But it might prevent a panic. To tell the truth, I think Greg’s a lot more worried about morale among the dancers than any bit of localized mischief. Me, too. This kind of thing can give a company the galloping willies.” She picked up a cup of blueberry yogurt and brandished it in Juliet’s direction. “Eat, eat.”
    â€œOh, that’s okay, thanks. I’ll have something when I get home.”
    â€œWhen you get home?” echoed Ruth. “You’ll be starved by then.”
    For a moment, Juliet looked at her, puzzled. Then understanding dawned. “You don’t mean for me to stay here the whole—?”
    â€œOf course I do,” interrupted Ruth. “You weren’t planning to leave again?” she demanded, outraged. “There are three more hours of rehearsal left.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œJuliet, you said that you would help me. You’ve already helped me. You can help me more. Today went infinitely better than any day I’ve had on Great Ex till now.”
    â€œWell, I do have a thought or two about that dinner scene. But I could call you—”
    â€œAnd you’ll have lots more thoughts,” Ruth said firmly. “Let’s be clear about this. You’ll stay today and you’ll come back tomorrow and—Juliet, you said we were going to whip this thing into shape.”
    Juliet did not remember having said quite that, though she did recall something about fixing it up. She put her hands over her face like a little girl who hopes to make herself invisible.
    â€œYou really shouldn’t tempt me, Ruth,” she said. “You know how I am with an excuse to duck work. Like an alcoholic with a bottle.”
    â€œYou’ll get the book done. You always do.”
    â€œOh, wicked, wicked! Get thee behind me, Satan.” Only last week, Juliet’s editor, Portia Klein, had called to see how London Quadrille was coming. Juliet had lied a little, omitting to mention that she was at a standstill as regarded Lady Porter’s scheme, and adding two to the actual number of chapters already written.
    â€œWrite in the mornings,” Ruth said. “I don’t even start with the dancers till twelve. Come at one or two.”
    Juliet felt herself start to crumble. “After all,” an inner voice coaxed seductively, “ London Quadrille will come out all the better if you spend a little time away from it. Healthy distraction always refreshes the mind.”
    Besides, now there was this intriguing matter of the talcum powder. An image of Nancy Drew jumping gaily into her sporty roadster sprang into Juliet’s head. Nancy