Well, she’s not dancing for an audience at Covent Garden any more, but Dad’s rigged her up a barre in our flat in the huge basement room which was once the servants’ kitchen and is now a storage area for council files, folders and furniture. He clears a big space by the wall and drills holes into it to fit the shiny barre. Then he puts up a long mirror and installs some little spotlights in the ceiling so that they can shine down on Mum and she can see what she’s doing. At first Mum’s not keen about going down to the basement and dancing there while we’re all upstairs doing other things, but after a few sessions she starts to look forward to it. Sometimes I creep halfway down the stairs and sit there hugging my knees so that I can watch. Mum dances like she’s trying to reach something. Or someone. Her arms stretch out towards things that I can’t see and her face is filled with this strange yearning look that she doesn’t use in our normal everyday life.
What do You think about The Haunting Of Tabitha Grey?
