Part 4

Although too nervous to eat too much and not wanting to make herself feel heavy or over-full for the afternoon’s performance, assuming she was selected to go forward, Samantha had enjoyed the girl-meat buffet provided and found herself wondering about the five girls from whom the meat had come, their pretty heads displayed on spikes at the back of the table, equally spaced. They looked very young, only five or six years old, younger than all the girls trying out for the dance troupe. Yet all looked serenely happy and the cuts at their necks were clean. They must have been beheaded before their meat was prepared, she concluded. But who had they been? Did they know what their meat was to be used for? Had they, perhaps, volunteered especially to provide this meal?

Perhaps, she pondered, it wasn’t really “the done thing” to wonder about the girls on the menu. They were just meat after all and, as long as they were willing, it didn’t really matter who they had been before stepping into the kitchen. But, on the other hand, wasn’t that what made eating girls special? The meat wasn’t so terribly different from pork, after all, and yet was considered a delicacy. Was that not precisely because it came not from farm animals but from girls with real lives, hopes, friends, hobbies and futures which they had given up to provide a tasty meal for people they might never have even met? Yes, Samantha had concluded to herself, the food she was eating was special precisely because the meat came from little girls and thinking about their lives was all part of the experience. After all, if those eating the meat were supposed to ignore where it had come from, why were the cute, smiling little heads all displayed so prominently?

After the hour-long break, all the girls had been invited back onto the stage, all still wearing their numbers. Carla the manager had said a few words about how talented they all were and suchlike, even commenting that they would all make fine additions to the menu when the restaurant opened. This had been met with chuckles and giggles although everyone, especially the girls, knew that it was only partly a joke. Plenty of girls would, after all, be needed to keep the busy restaurant well stocked with meat and, looking around at her fellow hopefuls, Samantha thought it would be very surprising if several of them didn’t end up in the kitchen or public cooking area sooner or later.

Now came the important part. A list of numbers was read out and Samantha carefully listened for her own, number twenty three, but it did not come. Her heart had sunk and she began to rationalise it in her mind, assuring herself there would be other opportunities and that she could always try out again next month when Carla thanked all those whose numbers had been called and asked them to leave the stage.

“Thank you so much for your participation today,” she had smiled warmly, “and please do think about trying out again in the future. Don’t forget to collect your things from the lockers and please do take a flyer with a discount coupon on the way out. The rest of you,” Samantha had realised this included her, “you’re through to the next round! Please give the girls who are leaving fifteen minutes to change and collect their belongings then go undress in the changing room. Someone will be through to label and re-sort you shortly.”

“Congratulations, honey!” her mum had put her arms around her and hugged her tightly when she ran over to see her during the transition time.

“Don’t congratulate me yet!” Samantha had grinned, “I have to pass the next round yet!”

“You’ll do great, I know it!” Her dad had squeezed her shoulder. “Looks like the others are leaving.” He gestured with his head to the side door that the girls were coming out of in their street clothes, bags slung over their shoulders, ready to reunite with their parents. “Best go get ready!”

“Go get naked you mean!” she had giggled, sticking out her tongue. “Bet you’re not gonna be bored in the second half eh?”

“Stop teasing your dad!” her mum had laughingly chastised her then playfully slapped her behind. “Go get your kit off and get ready to wow those judges!”

The second part of the audition was actually less stressful than the first. For the group section, Samantha knew that all the girls who had made it through were the better dancers so she didn’t worry so much about somebody close to her messing up and making her look bad in the process. A group of talented performers, she knew, would always make each other look better to everyone’s benefit.

She had expected to feel a little self-conscious about dancing nude in front of the judges and audience, despite how much she had practised at home. After all, dancing alone in your living room and having your mum or dad occasionally walk in on you was one thing but to be dancing in front of so many strangers, all staring directly at you, especially in the solo dance, sounded a lot more daunting. Yet, she found, once she was up on the stage under the hot lights, she just lost herself in the dance and barely remembered where she was, having to remind herself to smile from time to time as she went through her well-rehearsed sequence of moves.

As she came off stage, she thought she saw a figure in a smart suit approaching her parents but it was hard to tell with the lights shining at her. Her mum seemed to look up to talk to him but it was quite possible that he was simply one of the other parents who had left their seat for one reason or another and was just needing to slip past to get back to it.

But he had not been just another dad, as she found out afterwards when, along with the other girls, she had come out, showered and fully dressed once more, to hear the results. Rather than make the announcement right away, the manager had directed the girls back to the buffet table which now carried a variety of sweet treats and bottles of soda that all the girls, tired from their dancing and the adrenaline of the day, tucked into eagerly.

As she helped herself to a doughnut and a bottle of soda, Samantha had heard her name being called and turned to see her mum waving to her and looking a little anxious.

“What’s up, Mum?” she’d asked with a smile, enjoying the relief of the audition being over. She had done her best and now it was in the hands of the judges.

“There’s some people who want to talk to you.” Her mum had explained. Glancing around, she had noticed Rebecca and Jennifer, both of whom she had enjoyed chatting to backstage, apparently having similar conversations with their parents.

“To me?” the slim eleven year old had frowned a little. “What’s that about? Did I get a place?”

“I think it’s better if they explain for themselves.” her dad had suggested, exchanging slightly nervous looks with her mum. “We’ll come with you, of course, but just for moral support. Whatever you decide is entirely your choice and we will support you either way.”

“Decide about what?” Samantha had been more puzzled than she ever remembered being before. “Do I at least get a clue?” But instead of answering, her mum simply put her hand on her shoulder and gently guided her towards a door at the back of the room. Inside was another, smaller buffet table with both sweet and savoury snacks and chilled drinks both hard and soft. There was also a semi-circle of chairs, nine in total, set up pointed towards a large TV screen on the wall.