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,’ Beno?t says.
Laura stands to touch them.
‘You did all this?’ she asks Caroline.
‘We did it together. From Beno?t’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, Beno?t,’ she whispers.
‘My word,’ Beno?t 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.’
‘I got the idea for the cage from one of my favourite films, Zouzou. Do you know it?’ Beno?t asks as they dress her.
Laura shakes her head.
He inhales through his teeth. ‘Sacrilege. But you will. Tomorrow, everyone will. In it, Josephine Baker, the first black woman to star in a major motion picture, sings for her life, sings like a bird in a cage, twittering and swinging. It is an important scene, an important film.’
As Beno?t talks, in the background Laura keeps abreast of what’s going on in the show. It has begun already. Six acts in the final. The VTs recorded earlier this week, or during the course of today by her six housemates show how important tonight is in their lives.
‘Now or never.’
‘Do or die.’
‘Sing for my life.’
‘Performance of a lifetime.’
‘Doing this for my children. So they will be proud of their mum.’
Beno?t tuts. ‘They will be proud anyway, but you and I know that, don’t we, Lyrebird.’
Laura nods. He has a calming effect, an all-seeing, all-knowing soothsayer who has been here a thousand times. Nothing but his creations are a big deal. Everything will be fine. Laura feels calm.
Alice and Brendan’s performance is flawless, heart-stopping. They’ve raised all the bars, taken major risks using fire, water, swords – everything is flying in the air. Alice looks strong and powerful, Brendan lean and mean. They work perfectly together.
Serena the soprano receives the longest standing ovation ever in the history of the show.
Sparks controls his shaking hands.
The twelve-year-old gymnast tumbles, leaps and cartwheels through hoops of fire.
Nobody puts a foot wrong. Rachel and her wife Susie arrive with their new bundle, Brennan. And Laura holds that little body in her hands and gets lost in his cries. And then, as Alan takes to the stage, walkie-talkies in the hallway followed by a knock on the door send Laura’s stomach churning. They’ve come for her, it’s time to move. She looks at Solomon and he glances awkwardly at Bo.
‘Oh, kiss her, for fuck’s sake!’ she snaps, deliberately turning away and looking at the wall.
Rachel’s eyes widen, unsure of what’s happening as Solomon gives Laura a long lingering kiss. ‘Just be you,’ he whispers in her ear. ‘As much as you can be in a gold bodystocking and six-foot wings.’
Laura snorts, then laughs and they break apart.