After: Email

Not drawing my eyes away from my laptop, I took a sip of my coffee, wincing when I realised just how cold I had allowed it to get. With a sigh, I looked up at the cafe's clock and scowled at the time. Five minutes until I had to be back in the studio. I took another sip of my drink and shook my head, knowing that the disgusting taste of cold coffee wouldn't leave my mouth until I brushed my teeth later. Hastily, I packed away my laptop and almost ran out of the café - I couldn't afford to be late to rehearsal again.

The streets of central London were busy as usual, and unfamiliar faces blurred past me as I jogged and weaved through them, my laptop case angrily banging against my back until I knew a bruise would form.

With just a minute to spare, I made it back to the studios and dumped my bag in the empty changing room. I exchanged my trainers for my pointe shoes and ran into the studio, completely out of breath. Madame Toulouse, our ballet mistress, gave me a disapproving look as I stepped in, and an embarrassed blush rose to my cheeks. I'd been on the receiving end of that look too many times, yet I still couldn't seem to get anywhere on time.

"Now that we are all here, let us continue," Madame Toulouse began through her mild French accent, her pointed look deepening the blush on my cheeks as a few people tittered laughs around the edge of the room. "We will start with the dance of the Willis. Take your places."

The corps de ballet followed her instructions quickly and efficiently, standing pin-straight at the sides of the room. A few seconds later, the music started, and I took a breath, desperately trying to calm my distracted mind. Only a few counts after my entrance in the corps, Madame Toulouse clapped the pianist to a stop. "Briony, could you please concentrate! Your back leg was bouncing while you were shunting. Again. From the top."

I looked at the floor, wanting it to swallow me up whole. It felt so embarrassing to be given a correction on my technique, as if I was still in training rather than a professional dancer. I'd trained twenty years for this and yet I still couldn't do it right. I took a deep breath. I could do it. I was only struggling right now because the email Mum sent me had distracted me, and because I hadn't given myself time to warm up at all. I was still a professional. Professionals needed corrections too.

Madam Toulouse clapped again, stopping the music I hadn't even realised had started. "Briony, may I have a word please." It wasn't a question.

I trailed after her out of the studio, trying to swallow the lump in my throat but failing. Mum had invited me to a barbeque at the Simpson's house for the first time in years. I hadn't been to a barbeque since I was... Well, since Seb, basically. My heart and lungs clenched at his name, and I desperately tried to flush him from my mind. Why now, after so long?

"Briony." Madame Toulouse's voice was surprisingly gentle when she stopped me a little way down the corridor. "What are you thinking? What has happened? You weren't this distracted before lunchtime, and I'm a little worried."

"I...I..." No words seemed to be able to form in my mouth, so I closed it, gulped, and thought about what I wanted to say before speaking again. "It sounds really really stupid and menial and I don't know why I'm so worked up about it, but my mum sent me an email earlier that I wasn't expecting." I stopped again, biting my lip anxiously.

She looked very concerned. "Are your family okay? Is everything alright?"

I nodded quickly, flashing a small smile and laughing awkwardly, feeling embarrassed that I was overreacting to the extent Madame Toulouse thought something had happened to my family. "Yes, yes, they're all fine. It was nothing like that. God, thinking about it now just makes me feel even more stupid. All my mum has done is invite me to a gathering back home on Sunday. We used to have them all the time, but then... something happened and I haven't been in six years. And she hasn't spoken to me about it in the last five." I gulped. "So, yeah. A really stupid reason. I need to get a hold of myself."

Madame shook her head, looking at me with concerned eyes. "No, no, no, no. Although I'm not happy with you slipping in at the last minute so often, you never get distracted in rehearsal. If something is affecting your dancing so much, it can't be a stupid reason." Her tone was calm and reassuring, and her wrinkled hand squeezed my upper arm gently as she spoke. "I won't tell you what you should do, but sometimes the only way to get past something is to go through it until it ends." She sent me a reassuring smile before stepping past me back towards the studio.

I followed her into the room, and everyone stared at us to try to gauge my reaction. I desperately tried to stop my eyes from revealing anything, but soon realised that I couldn't stop the conflicted feelings from fighting through.

"Okay, from the top again!" called Madame Toulouse.

***

"So are you on your final warning now or what?" Eva asked as we got changed after rehearsal finished. She was acting all kind and sympathetic, but I knew that all she wanted was gossip and for me to get fired. After all, I'd be one less person for her to compete with next time the position of soloist came up for grabbing. Most people in the ballet world were not like Eva, but there was always one in every school and company who would do anything to advantage herself at the cost of everyone else.

"No," I told her. "No, I'm not." Then, not bothering to elaborate further or even tie up my pointe shoes properly, I picked up my bag, and left for my flat. I shared my flat with two other dancers, both part of a contemporary company based nearby. We had met at company auditions years ago and although they had been bitter at the time that I had been hired and they hadn't, they soon found contracts elsewhere and we all moved in together. This week they had performances every night, leaving me the flat to myself until late.

My phone was in my hand the moment I stepped inside, quickly typing in my home number, before freezing and staring at it like I had never seen it before. But Madame Toulouse was right. Maybe I did have to face what had happened head on. Plus I was really curious why mum thought she'd start inviting me again now. So there was nothing left to do but phone.

"Hello, Michelle Madden here. How may I help you?" My mum's overly enunciated phone voice never failed to make me smile.

"Hi Mum, it's Briony."

"Briony! How are you? Did you get my email?" she asked quickly, and I rolled my eyes at her. As if I could answer that quickly.

"Yeah, I'm good. We're going through the final studio rehearsals for Giselle at the moment. What about you?" I hated small talk, but right now I wished it would last forever, anything to stop the topic of the barbecue.

"Sounds great! I can't wait to see it! And I'm doing great too - Christian's staying here for the week with Laila and Jake. Hopefully you can come this weekend so you can see them again - how many times have you met Jake again? Maybe four?" Mum said excitedly, and I sighed.

"Yeah, about that number," I agreed, before taking a deep breath and continuing. "I can come on Sunday, by the way."

There was a pause at the other end of the line, then Mum cheered overenthusiastically. "That's fantastic! Let me just go and tell the others. Actually, you can tell them yourself. Let me hand you over to Simon first."

I heard a few muffled words, probably just to tell Simon who it was, before I heard his voice through the phone. "How's my little girl doing then?" Although Simon was technically my step-dad, I had always been his little girl, and he was the best dad I could ever ask for.

"You do realise that I'm twenty-three now, Simon. I'm not your little girl anymore," I protested, but he simply laughed and I knew he was only kidding.

"I know, I know. So, how are you? How's rehearsals?" he asked, and I repeated what I told Mum. "That sounds great, I can't wait to see our little professional ballerina on stage again! So I hear you're coming back for the day on Sunday?"

"Yep, that's the plan. I reckon I'll probably come on Saturday and spend the night if that works?" Sunday mornings were normally the only day I could have a lie-in, so I was not going to spend that time on a hot, stuffy LNER train instead of in bed.

"Sounds perfect, Christian can go pick you up from the station. I'm guessing you'd like to talk to him?" he asked, and a real grin spread up my face. Chris was my older brother, and was easily my favourite member of the family. We had always been close as children, despite the five year age difference, but in the last few years since I had left home we had drifted apart a lot. So much so, that I very rarely spoke to him, and I really regretted not keeping him closer.

"Briony!" Chris's voice was like a breath of fresh air, and I laughed at his excited tone. "A little birdie told me that you're coming home on Sunday," he whispered down the line as if it was some big secret that only the two of us knew.

"I'm pretty certain that the little birdie was in fact a rather tall birdie we like to call 'mum'. But, yes, I am. I'm planning on coming on Saturday afternoon. We finish rehearsal at two on Saturday so I'll probably get the train to arrive in Peterborough at five. It's only for the day, though – I've gotta go back Sunday evening," I explained, and Chris made a noise in understanding.

"Yeah, we're heading back on Sunday evening too, ready for work on Monday. Really lucky we both managed to get time off this week, actually, but I'm really glad you're coming. It's been a long time."

Regret surged through me as I thought about how long it had been. "How's Laila? I can't wait to see Jake again! I bet he's grown up so much."

"She's good – really needed these few days off work 'cause her boss is giving her way too much work outside her job description, but that's a story for another day. And Jake is excited to see you too! He's loved you every time you've met before. I just can't believe he's nearly five! These last few years have just flown by - it's honestly scary!" I tried to imagine Christian's face as he talked about his family, filled with joy and love, but I couldn't, and that was when I realised just how late I had left it to see him again.

I sighed guiltily, saying, "I'm sorry I haven't seen you in such a long time. I... I really shouldn't have left it so long."

"Don't worry about it, Briony. Seriously. We all understand just how busy your life is, and seeing you when we do makes up for it all." His tone was unbelievably reassuring and I sighed again, feeling a little better.

"I should probably go," I told Christian reluctantly. "I need to get some food cooking."

"Okay, bye Briony. See you on Sunday - we can't wait."

"Oh wait!" I said, getting in before he hung up. "Do you know why mum's invited me to this barbecue after so long? It's been all I can think of all day."

"I was wondering that too, to be honest. It's been, what... Five years? Like, why now? Guess we'll find out on Sunday," Chris said, and I sighed. I had really hoped he had some idea about the situation, but it seemed he was as clueless as me.

"Yeah, I guess we'll find out," I agreed, before we finally said our goodbyes and hung up.