The day is finally here when A Deadly Portrayal arrives on the digital shelves! With ballet, blackmail and betrayal on the programme in the theatre, it’s a very exciting and nerve-wracking day for me, and everyone at Readthrough Press, as ever.
We hope you like it as much as we do. It’s available for sale in all the usual places. Find out more about the Allensbury Mysteries series on this website.
Here’s a snippet from the opening of the book to whet your appetite:
Prologue
Natasha Kent stared down at the screen of her smartphone. Swallowing hard, she fought the urge to throw up in the quadrangle. This was nothing like the performance anxiety and pre-show nerves she’d dealt with for years. She watched the video on the screen of her phone, hand shaking, whether from fear or anger she wasn’t sure. He was the only one who’d had the recording, and she’d watched him delete it. But now someone else had a copy. Why had he shared it with them? She looked again at the email attached to the video.
If you don’t go to the police and admit what you’ve done, I will release this video on social media. You know what that will do to your reputation. If he’d told the truth, he had a chance to save you but didn’t take it. So now it’s your turn. Maybe you have more of a conscience, but I doubt it. You have a week to comply. If you don’t, then I’ll know what to do.
Natasha read the email three times, then locked the screen of her phone. She barely noticed the students milling around in all directions, shouting to each other as they moved in and out of the high-ceilinged, glass-fronted atrium of Allensbury Dance and Drama School. Legs trembling, she sat on a stone bench near the front doors.
She didn’t understand. What had she done? How could she go to the police when she didn’t know what for?
Natasha got to her feet, and scooped up her sports bag. He was going to explain why someone else had that video. She would make him. Checking her phone again, she realised there were only ten minutes to get changed and into the auditorium for rehearsal. She’d speak to him afterwards. Squaring her shoulders, Natasha marched towards the building. He was going to do what she wanted. It was only two weeks to the end-of-year showcase, and she didn’t need this now. He wasn’t going to ruin her life. She would make sure of that.
Chapter 1
Travers McGovern sat in the darkened theatre, his eyes glued to the stage. It was brightly lit, but with the house lights down, he knew the dancers weren’t aware they had an audience. The lycra-clad men and women stood in a group, with one man issuing instructions.
‘Natasha,’ Dominic said, ‘I want you over there.’ He pointed to centre stage. There was a general titter among the group. Even the man laughed. ‘Not like that,’ he said mock-sternly, rolling his eyes at them.
‘At least not anymore, eh, Dominic?’ asked a short, blonde woman, whose hair was scraped back so tightly into a bun that Travers thought it made her look like she’d had a bad face lift. She stepped over to Dominic and ran a hand down his arm. He shook her away and turned towards centre stage.
Natasha showed no sign of having heard the woman’s comment and walked flat-footed in ballet pointe shoes to her place in the middle of the stage. She ran a hand over her hair to ensure that no strands had escaped from the tight bun on the back of her head and adjusted the cropped, sleeveless, blue cardigan she was wearing over a grey-and-white leotard and leggings. Her brown skin glowed under the bright stage lights.
The other dancers stood or sat watching from the side of the stage.
The music began, easily recognisable as Swan Lake, and Natasha rose en pointe. Her arms fluttered like wings as she tiptoed across the stage, but when she came to perform a series of pirouettes, she over-rotated, slipped and thudded heavily to the floor, landing on her side. Travers sat forward in his seat. Was she hurt? A fall could be serious.
There were snorts of laughter from some of the other dancers as Natasha sat rubbing her elbow and checking her skin for any scrapes.
‘God, Natasha, that was elegant,’ called a male dancer, seated on the floor, grinning.
‘You’d better not do that during our group piece at the showcase,’ said the blonde woman. ‘You know there’ll be agents there. It won’t look good if you can’t even stay on your feet.’
‘Leave Nat alone,’ said Dominic, striding forward and holding out a hand to help her up. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. She swayed for a moment and Travers growled quietly in his throat as the man held her slender waist to steady her. He had no right to touch her. She rubbed her forehead and then pushed his hands away. Travers sat back in his seat.
‘I’m fine,’ she snapped. A look of annoyance crossed the young man’s face, but he said nothing. ‘I’ll just go again from the top, if that’s OK?’
‘Sorry, Nat.’ Dominic glanced down at his watch. ‘We’ve run out of time for today.’
‘There’s no time to run through my solo?’ the blonde dancer demanded, hands on hips.
Dominic shook his head. ‘No, someone else has the theatre booked out for the rest of the day, so we can’t stay here.’
The female dancer took a couple of steps towards him. ‘We all have to practise,’ she said, jutting out her chin. ‘Not just her.’ She jabbed a finger towards Natasha, who was still rubbing her elbow. ‘If your girlfriend wasn’t dancing like Nellie the Elephant, we’d all get a chance.’ She turned to Natasha, who had sat down on the stage and was unwrapping the ribbons that wound around her ankles to take off her shoes. ‘I swear to God, Natasha, if you balls up my chance by taking up all the rehearsal time, I’ll bloody kill you.’
‘Look,’ Natasha said with mock concern, ‘Tara, I don’t think there’s enough time in the week for the practice you need, and there’s nothing I can do about that.’ She got to her feet and brushed the stage dirt from her leggings. Then, shoving her shoes into her bag, she turned back to Tara, who glared, hands on hips, clearly unable to think of a reply to the dig. Natasha grinned smugly, picked up her bag, and strolled away.
The dancers packed up their belongings and headed out through the wings to the backstage area. Travers waited until they had all gone before he got to his feet. He needed to speak to Natasha alone. She needed to know this wasn’t his fault. He got up and walked quietly out through the back door of the auditorium.
In the shadows, a figure lurked, smiling and watching Travers as he left. They were both rattled, very rattled. But every action has a consequence, and they’d soon pay for what they’d done.