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don’t have time to be distracted by other people’s problems. The solo that Ethan choreographed for me is good, but I need it to be sensational, unforgettable. I should be focused on my own performance but instead I’m thinking about Tara. Typical Tara, dragging everyone else into her personal drama. I so don’t need this now.
    I sit in front of the mirror in the dressing room, trying to gain focus. This is my story, my chance, not Tara’s. Saskia comes in with a costume bag. I have to get out what’s on my mind, so I can focus on me.
    â€˜I was just coming to talk to you about Tara,’ I say. ‘I’m worried about her.’
    â€˜Me too,’ Saskia says. ‘The judges are going to annihilate her this afternoon.’
    She sits down. ‘I know this is a lot to put on your shoulders, but I need at least one girl to go through to the Nationals. And Grace is unpredictable.’
    She’s right and obviously I’m going to do everything I can to get through to the finals. Then she unzips the dress bag and pulls out a pair of red shoes.
    â€˜How well do you know The Red Shoes ?’ she asks.
    â€˜I’ve seen Tara struggle through it a zillion times. But what about the piece Ethan choreographed for me?’
    â€˜ The Red Shoes , when it’s performed right – unbeatable,’ Saskia suggests.
    Not the conversation I expected. I am worried about Tara, but if she’s not going to help herself, why should I do it for her? If Saksia thinks I can carry off The Red Shoes , I should. My mind flashes to Ethan and the work he’s put in. But this is the Prix de Fonteyn, the biggest competition in the world. Emphasis on competition . If I’m not going to compete, why am I here?
    I take the red shoes.
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    Later as I’m applying my make-up, Ethan comes in to wish me luck. He’s worn the same socks for three days. Nice. ‘It’s a good luck ritual,’ he explains.
    â€˜Unnecessary. I’ve decided to go with another solo.’ There’s no point letting him down gently. He laughs, thinking I’m joking. But I don’t joke, not about dance.
    â€˜We’ve been working on it for weeks,’ he says. ‘I know it’s risky going with new choreography but you are going to be fantastic.’
    Being hard is the only way I know I can do this. ‘It’s amateurish. You might need it for your showreel, but I can do better.’
    â€˜Then you do that Abigail,’ he says and slips out, leaving the memory of his image in the mirror. I close my eyes, grit my teeth and hope I’m doing the right thing.
    Saskia walks me backstage when it’s time for the girls’ solos. I’m in the white dress and carrying the shoes. Anyone who sees us will know exactly what I’m going to do.
    â€˜You’re going to have to dig deep in the piqué turns.’ Saskia seems even more nervous than me.
    â€˜I wasn’t planning on coasting,’ I say, annoyed at all the last minute advice.
    â€˜And the posé in attitudes – focus on your upper body. Tara’s expressive,’ she says. ‘There’s no point doing this if you’re not going to be better than her.’
    I stop, suddenly realising why Saskia wants me to perform. All semester she’s been entertainingly vocal about how crap Tara is at this solo. And now … I know why she hates Tara so much. She’s jealous.
    â€˜I knew Tara was good, but I just never thought she was good enough to scare you.’ The youngest principal in the history of the company and she’s scared someone might perform The Red Shoes better than her. I thought she was inspirational, someone to look up to, but she’s not. She’s just another person using me to play her own games.
    She picked the wrong girl. There’s only one solo I’m going to perform. Mine. ‘Excuse me,’ I say. I’ve got to change my