Karyn couldn't believe it.
Somehow she had made it through an entire performance with a burlesque chorus, and no one seemed to notice that she wasn't supposed to be there.
For those few minutes she had been treated as though she truly belonged.
“Viens. Profitons-en. Monte devant avec moi, pour une fois.” (Come on. Let's enjoy it. Come up front with me for once.) Lucienne smiled as she took Karyn's hand and gently pulled her towards the front of the stage.
Karyn wasn't sure whether she should. Perhaps someone would realise she didn't belong there after all. Lucienne, however, wasn't prepared to take no for an answer.
A few moments later, Karyn found herself standing beside her, bowing with the rest of the chorus.
Just off the stage, in the wings, Madeleine turned to Jon. "I need your help getting your friend away from ze girls."
"What can I do?"
"Until we understand what 'as happened, I need any conversation I 'ave with 'er to appear exactly like one I might 'ave with any member of ze chorus."
"Okay... I still don't understand how I can help."
Jon looked at her with obvious confusion.
Sometimes I wonder 'ow ze Americans survived ze war at all, Madeleine thought to herself.
"I shall need to speak to 'er in French, and you told me neither of you speaks French."
"Oh... right."
At last Jon understood.
Well...
Part of it.
He was still struggling to understand what had happened. He and Karyn had somehow arrived in what appeared to be 1950s France. Karyn had collided with one of the dancers.
Somehow the two women had exchanged clothes. He had then watched Karyn perform an entire dance routine on stage wearing exactly the same costume as the rest of the chorus.
After that, everyone had become paused, as Madeleine called it.
Everyone except Simone. Somehow Simone had remained able to move before disappearing through the same mysterious Door that had brought him and Karyn to the theatre.
And now...
Now he somehow had to explain all of that to Karyn.
"I need you to make it appear as though what I am saying to 'er is perfectly ordinary."
"I'll do my best."
"Zat is all I ask. Ah... 'ere zey come."
Madeleine watched as the chorus left the front of the stage and made their way into the wings where she and Jon were waiting.
“Oh non... Madeleine nous regarde. Quelqu'un va avoir des ennuis.” (Oh no... Madeleine is watching us. Someone's in trouble.) Lucienne glanced over her shoulder.
“Tant que ce n'est pas moi, tout va bien.” (As long as it isn't me, I'm happy.) Mireille replied with a grin.
“Vous avez été très bonnes ce soir, les filles. Très bonnes.” (You were very good tonight, girls. Very good.) Madeleine greeted them warmly.
Karyn spotted Jon standing slightly to one side. He was mouthing something. She frowned, concentrating. It took her a moment to work it out. Just nod. Follow us.
At least...
She thought that was what he was saying. He must have some kind of plan. She decided to trust him.
“À part vous, mademoiselle.” (That is, apart from you, young lady.) Madeleine turned to face Karyn.
Remembering Jon's advice, Karyn simply nodded.
“Votre timing était mauvais.” (Your timing was off.)
“Madame, elle est entrée en collision avec cet étranger plus tôt ce soir.” (Madam, she did crash into that foreigner earlier tonight.) Lucienne instinctively came to her fellow dancer's defence.
“J'en suis parfaitement consciente. C'est précisément pourquoi elle n'aurait pas dû monter sur scène. Venez avec moi, mademoiselle.” (I am perfectly aware of that. That is precisely why she should not have gone on stage. Come with me, young lady.)
Madeleine turned away from the stage.
Jon quietly fell into step behind her.
Hoping she had understood Jon's silent instructions correctly, Karyn followed.
“Bonne chance, Karyn.” (Good luck, Karyn.)
Lucienne said as she and the rest of the chorus headed back towards their dressing room.
