Duncan hadn’t spoken to me all evening. He had sailed on and off the stage in his ridiculous meringue dress, somehow looking like a cross between Queen Victoria and a travellers’ bride. He’d raised some of the loudest cheers all evening. I’d been helping Pam into her military boots at the time, so I couldn’t watch all his scene. But I caught as much as I could. It lit an odd glow inside me, both hot and cold at once.
I still couldn’t find my glove. With a sinking heart, I wondered if this was a metaphor for my lost love: the failure to win Duncan back.
It would serve me right, I supposed.
Outside, sweeping the path, I could still hear the final scene. The audience were whooping with joy and triumph as Parminder knelt at Amy/Cinders’ feet.
“Dear girl,” Pam said, with a wonderfully sincere devotion. “Do not hide by the hearth. Let me try the slipper on you as well.”
“Do it! Bloody do it!” shrieked someone in the audience and there was loud laughter.