Free Dance of Fire by Yelena Black Page A

shoulders were luminous, her figure like a white outline frozen into the wall. The photograph was labelled The Royal Court Ballet Company and dated two and a half years earlier.
    Had Margaret been in London all along? Was she here now?
    Vanessa’s mind tumbled back to her family’s kitchen, the feel of the cold metal chair against her legs that night nearly three years ago when the New York Ballet Academy had called to inform them that Margaret had run away. Disappeared. Posters went up all over the city; the police and private detectives had searched everywhere, but no leads were ever found, no sliver of evidence on which to hang hopes that her sister was alive.
    Had Margaret been in the Royal Court all this time? Why hadn’t she told her family?
    A hand on Vanessa’s shoulder startled her.
    â€˜Sorry!’ Geo said when she jumped. He nodded to the others, who were all putting on their coats. Vanessa’s jacket was draped over his forearm. ‘The restaurant is closing.’
    Behind him, Justin was chatting with Svetya as the two of them wove slowly through the tables towards the door.
    â€˜Is everything OK?’ Geo asked, concern in his voice.
    Vanessa glanced back at the photo of Margaret. Geo seemed nice enough, but she barely knew him – she couldn’t tell him about her sister. ‘I’m fine,’ she said quickly, taking her jacket from him and pulling it on. ‘Thanks.’
    Outside, Justin and Svetya were wandering down the ­pavement, chatting and laughing about God-knows-what, their voices ricocheting off the darkened storefronts. The weird London misty not-quite-rain filled the air.
    Vanessa jogged forward and touched Justin’s arm. ‘I need to show you something,’ she said.
    He must have read the disquiet in her face, because he turned to Svetya and said, ‘Will you give us a minute?’
    Svetya glared at Vanessa but said nothing.
    Vanessa waited until Geo had got a few steps ahead of them and was walking side by side with Svetya, out of earshot. ‘Sorry to interrupt.’
    â€˜You weren’t interrupting,’ Justin said. ‘What’s wrong?’
    Vanessa lowered her voice. ‘I saw Margaret.’
    â€˜What?’ Justin said, alarmed. ‘Where?’
    â€˜On the wall in the restaurant, in a photograph of the Royal Court Company. I’ll show you.’ Vanessa started back towards the restaurant, but Justin didn’t move.
    â€˜Vanessa, wait!’ he called out.
    â€˜It was her ,’ Vanessa insisted. ‘When you see the picture –’
    â€˜I believe you,’ Justin said carefully. ‘But the restaurant is closing. The photograph will still be there tomorrow. We’ll come back right after rehearsal. I promise.’ The misty dark around him glowed with the light from the street lamps. A damp tangle of sandy-coloured hair fell loose over his forehead. ‘We just got out of the strangest rehearsal we’ve ever had, and we have to wake up bright and early tomorrow morning and do it again. And then we have to win this competition. That’s enough for our first day in London.’
    â€˜You don’t understand,’ Vanessa said. Why couldn’t Justin see how big this was? How had Margaret ended up in the Royal Court Company? And where was she now?
    Justin looked over his shoulder at the others, in the distance.
    And then it dawned on her. ‘You just want to go back and flirt with Svetya.’
    â€˜Is that what you think?’ Justin’s face went blank. ‘I’m only interested in you, Vanessa. Demon or no demon. But Svetya is a dancer with the Royal School of Ballet. It’s basically a feeder into the Royal Court Company. Maybe she knows something about the dancers who – the ones who are like Josef. It doesn’t hurt to be nice.’
    What he said made sense, and yet Vanessa couldn’t help herself from saying, ‘And she’s very