“Anytime you need help Taylor, you can come to me,” Kon adds, low and harsh, almost savage in his intensity. “Anything, do you understand?”
I nod, my heart rate spiking.
It’s wrong. I know that. He probably feels responsible. Maybe just sympathetic, since we’ve been through some similar things.
I guess I’m so starved of affection that I’m misreading it.
Because to my stupid heart it feels like it’s… It’s not that.
I’m being crazy. A few intense experiences, a sense of rightness when we’re together, and tummy flutters whenever he looks at me don’t make this… Love?
17
KON
The next morning, as I’m watching Taylor go to the ballet studio on the surveillance cameras of my building, and I ache at the distance between us, a thought occurs to me.
Icanhave her closer.
She told me on the plane what she most wanted. I might not be able to have Taylor the way I really need, but I can make her every dream come true.
18
TAYLOR
There’s an avalanche of messages on the ballet group chat, and I stare at them bleary-eyed.
I pull on yoga pants and a blue top, some of the new clothing Payton and Hayley shopped for. They have black credit cards that they’re gleeful about using, to the point that they argue about who gets to pay.
It’s about a meeting Kon has invited us all to, via Madam Polina. There’s no more information about it, but it’ll be after ballet practice.
Inevitably I can’t concentrate on drills, and then about ten minutes before we finish, my focus dissolves like sugar in water because Kon walks in, followed by his men. They’re like something out of a movie with their suits, tattoos, concealed guns, and air of power. Except they’re carrying stacks of paper, tablets, and one has a projector.
Everyone stops.
There’s some polite manoeuvring, where Kon apologises to Madam Polina and says they’ll wait, and she insists we were finished even though we clearly weren’t. Some of the dancers gush to Kon about how grateful they are about things he’s arranged for them, and he smiles graciously as his men takeover the studio. Kon begins to speak—not calling for attention or anything vulgar like that, he just starts speaking and everyone turns to listen.
“All of you here are likely to be in Harlesden for some time, or maybe permanently. I’ve been aware that a hotel is not a long-term solution, but it took until now to arrange a suitable alternative.” He sweeps a hand towards the displays of photos, floor plans, and virtual tours. “These properties have been procured for you, and will be signed over into your ownership as soon as you choose where you’d like to live.”
He’s set up a house showroom. Houses he’s going togiveus.
That’s incredibly generous, and there’s a chorus of “ooh”, “thank you”, and other murmurs of disbelief. I guess we’re all a bit more sceptical than we were. Kon isn’t the first person to offer us something too good to be true.
But he did save us. And the reason less than half of our original number are here is that the others have returned to their families. Exactly as Kon promised.
And we all have phones. As Kon said, he has arranged for anyone who wants to dance to have auditions with the London School of Ballet. The real one this time, not the scammers who managed to sell us into slavery.
There are a lot of questions, and even more excitement. Kon briefly describes the houses and apartments he’s acquired, pointing out that the larger houses would be suitable for more than one person, and which have gardens. Then everyone is browsing, getting into little groups to live together, or discussing which of the one-bedroom apartments have the nicest views. I drift around, so aware of Kon at the edge of the room, directing things, as my friends decide on where to live.
It’s all too surreal. I look at the photos of neatly furnished apartments and wonder what world I’ve ended up in.
I’m not sure if this is meant for me anyway, since I have Payton and Taylor. I’m not alone like the rest of the dancers who are still in London, even if I feel lonely.
Kon comes up behind me, and I sense him before he says anything, as though that night together has linked us in some physical way. I breathe in his scent like warm caramel.
“Have you decided?” His deep voice reverberates through me.
I shake my head, but not because I don’t know where I’d like to be. “It’s too generous.”
