Page 114 of Lyrebird

Laura grins, feeling so loved, so surrounded by warmth and joy. Benoît sits in the chair beside her.

‘Lyrebird – do you mind if I call you Lyrebird? I have known so many Lauras in my life, never a Lyrebird.’

Laura grins. ‘Of course.’

‘Thank you.’ He dips his head. ‘We have a spectacular display for you this evening. What Bo has done is mesmerising.’

‘What do I have to do?’

‘You just need to be you. No script, no horrific topless dancers dressed as bears, nothing but you and whatever you want to do.’

Laura’s eyes widen in terror and he chuckles warmly. ‘I know, my dear, to be your true self is often the most terrifying. Tonight’ – he picks up a drawing from a sketchbook – ‘I have created a life-size birdcage. Only it is not for a bird, it is for you, dear Lyrebird. It’s polished bronze – my dear friend made it for me especially. An expensive but necessary commission, I think the producers of StarrQuest will agree. It will suspend from the stage ceiling. I had to get special reinforcements soldered to the ceiling to make sure it would hold. It will, we have tested it.’ He closes his eyes, splays his fingers. ‘Perfect. Inside it, is a swing. You will sit on the swing. There will be a screen on stage for you to look at. Do look at it. Take in the images, absorb it, observe it, do whatever you wish. On that screen will be images and you will make whatever sounds you like. It is your story, your moment. We have taken you from you over the past few weeks …’ How honourable of him to include himself in this accusation, even though he had nothing to do with the show prior to this moment. ‘And now we are giving you back to you. Express yourself as you so wish.’

Laura looks at the simple sketch and smiles. ‘Thank you.’

‘On your body will be a thin bodystocking. Gold. The finest silk upon which Caroline has hand-sewn three hundred delicate crystals. Of course your modesty will be protected by this flesh-coloured shape-wear. It is beautiful, yes?’

‘Wow.’

‘See how the crystals catch the light? Caroline did that.’

Caroline smiles excitedly and blushes.

Laura runs her hands over the fine silk, the jewels sparkling as they move. The stocking seems so tiny, too small to fit her body. She looks at Solomon, who raises his eyebrows suggestively.

‘Oui, all the men will be hungry for you in this.’ Benoît smiles.

Laura looks at Bo nervously, Solomon dips his head. Bo stands back, she looks away at the walls, at the rails of clothes, everywhere but at the two of them.

Benoît returns to the subject of her wardrobe, his excitement evident. ‘Caroline, please reveal the final piece.’

His eyes don’t move from Laura for one second. He drinks in her reaction, eyes gauging whether Laura likes what she’s about to see or not. She plans to pretend that she does. It’s evident that a lot of work has gone into all this, she can sense the importance of the moment for him, and she is grateful. But there is no need to act, what Caroline reveals takes her breath away. Tears immediately fill her eyes, the beauty is so great.

Benoît is enchanted by her reaction and gleefully claps his hands together. ‘A thing of beauty, for a thing of beauty.’

‘Wow,’ Solomon says.

It’s a pair of wings, a beautiful great big pair of wings, which will be attached to Laura’s back. They shimmer with the same crystal embellishments as the bodystocking, but multiplied by thousands.

‘Ten thousand in total,’ Caroline whispers, as if anybody speaking at a normal level will break the fragile wings. But they don’t look fragile. They are big, and strong. The wingspan is six feet in total. They are grand, majestic, so beautiful as they sparkle in the tiny wardrobe room, Laura can only imagine how they’ll appear on stage.

‘Can I …?’

‘Of course, of course, they’re yours,’ Benoît says.

Laura stands to touch them.

‘You did all this?’ she asks Caroline.

‘We did it together. From Benoît’s designs. It was …’ Her eyes fill. ‘Well it was exhilarating to create something so beautiful. It took me back to my college days and … well, you deserve them.’

‘Thank you,’ she whispers.

As Laura takes the wings in her hands, the room is filled with the sound of a great flapping of wings, a bald eagle’s, though most there don’t know it, moving in slow motion. The sound fills the room and everybody freezes, eyes wide open. Laura thinks perhaps they’ve added the sound effects to the wings until she realises the sound is coming from herself.

Caroline’s hand flies to her chest. ‘I told you, Benoît,’ she whispers.

‘My word,’ Benoît says, looking at her as though enchanted. Standing tall, back straight, he dips his head and bows as if meeting Laura for the first time. ‘Let’s get to work, Lyrebird. We have much to do.’