doing,’ argued Frankie.
‘Crap, Georgia would throw a banana skin in front of Tiger if she thought she’d get the chance to take her place,’ retorted Blanche fiercely.
‘Girls, may I remind you I do not tolerate gossip!’ shrieked Pepper above the chatter. ‘Bad backstage manners will get you nowhere. Desist the chitchat immediately. Two minutes then we’ll move on. I’ll go and find Georgia.’
Pepper’s diminutive frame powered briskly out of the room. The moment the door clicked behind her, the Starr-lets burst into an excitable rabble of gossip and conjecture.
‘So come on then, it’s not really a career path they teach you at school is it? When exactly did you decide you wanted to be an international showgirl sensation?’
The television camera zoomed in on Tiger as she sat on the couch cool as a cucumber under the hot studio lights, looking impossibly chic with little Gravy perched on her stockinged knee.
‘Oh, Johnson, it wasn’t really one of those Eureka moments, it was quite organic, I think it must have been in my blood from day one!’
‘I can see that, but come on, tell us a bit about your background – did you go to stage school?’ probed Johnson Tyler the chat-show host.
‘Oh lord no,’ laughed Tiger softly. ‘No “jazz hands” for me.’ The audience laughed with her. ‘No, I did modern and Latin as a young girl, but I really got my passion when I ended up in Spain hanging out with the most incredible flamenco dancers. I immersed myself in the culture, the dance, the movement. In Spanish dance they call it
duende
, you know, where you become so consumed with passion when you dance that it’s like being overtaken by a spirit, and your soul is bared – it leaves the audience mesmerised.’
‘Ooh yes I’m feeling that right now as I look at you, you’re very good at this
duende
thing you know,’ quipped Johnson, winking at the audience who bellowed with laughter. ‘So after the flamenco then what? You were kidnapped by strippers on the way?’ More laughs.
‘Oh no, better than that, my grandmother was a burlesque dancer in the fifties. So when I had to leave Spain for her funeral in England, I knew I wanted to usewhat I had learnt to carry on her legacy.’ Tiger stroked her pink curls nervously. She had been briefed on the questions she would be asked, but was inwardly praying Johnson didn’t go off script as he had a reputation for doing. She didn’t need any more probing into her background than the official story she always gave. She reminded herself not to fiddle, and clamped her hands safely on Gravy.
‘You’re so modest, Tiger,’ replied Johnson, ‘as your grandmother was a huge name in England and America back then wasn’t she? Coco Schnell, ladies and gentlemen, she performed in the same theatres as American burly legends Gypsy Rose Lee, Lili St Cyr and Ann Corio. Let’s get a shot of her up on screen.’ Johnson Tyler gestured behind him as a black-and-white photograph flashed onto the huge monitor behind his desk. The audience oo-ed and ah-ed at the beautiful image of raven-haired Coco in her sparkling gown slashed to the thigh with a long luxurious cape of fur and diamonds. Tiger felt an enormous twinge of pride, and grief, as she saw her grandma up there being revered all these years later. If only Coco could have enjoyed this moment of glory when she was alive instead of being ostracised as the black sheep of the family.
It made Tiger sad to think she was too young to have ever seen her own grandmother on stage, and even more so that her father forbade her to ask questions about anything to do with her career, as though he was ashamed of his own mother. Nonetheless, Tiger still managed tosteal the odd moment to listen to her grandma’s wonderful stories on the rare occasions she crossed the Atlantic to visit her family. It was true that many of the burlesque stars of Coco’s generation longed to go ‘legit’ in those days and turn to more
‘Crap, Georgia would throw a banana skin in front of Tiger if she thought she’d get the chance to take her place,’ retorted Blanche fiercely.
‘Girls, may I remind you I do not tolerate gossip!’ shrieked Pepper above the chatter. ‘Bad backstage manners will get you nowhere. Desist the chitchat immediately. Two minutes then we’ll move on. I’ll go and find Georgia.’
Pepper’s diminutive frame powered briskly out of the room. The moment the door clicked behind her, the Starr-lets burst into an excitable rabble of gossip and conjecture.
‘So come on then, it’s not really a career path they teach you at school is it? When exactly did you decide you wanted to be an international showgirl sensation?’
The television camera zoomed in on Tiger as she sat on the couch cool as a cucumber under the hot studio lights, looking impossibly chic with little Gravy perched on her stockinged knee.
‘Oh, Johnson, it wasn’t really one of those Eureka moments, it was quite organic, I think it must have been in my blood from day one!’
‘I can see that, but come on, tell us a bit about your background – did you go to stage school?’ probed Johnson Tyler the chat-show host.
‘Oh lord no,’ laughed Tiger softly. ‘No “jazz hands” for me.’ The audience laughed with her. ‘No, I did modern and Latin as a young girl, but I really got my passion when I ended up in Spain hanging out with the most incredible flamenco dancers. I immersed myself in the culture, the dance, the movement. In Spanish dance they call it
duende
, you know, where you become so consumed with passion when you dance that it’s like being overtaken by a spirit, and your soul is bared – it leaves the audience mesmerised.’
‘Ooh yes I’m feeling that right now as I look at you, you’re very good at this
duende
thing you know,’ quipped Johnson, winking at the audience who bellowed with laughter. ‘So after the flamenco then what? You were kidnapped by strippers on the way?’ More laughs.
‘Oh no, better than that, my grandmother was a burlesque dancer in the fifties. So when I had to leave Spain for her funeral in England, I knew I wanted to usewhat I had learnt to carry on her legacy.’ Tiger stroked her pink curls nervously. She had been briefed on the questions she would be asked, but was inwardly praying Johnson didn’t go off script as he had a reputation for doing. She didn’t need any more probing into her background than the official story she always gave. She reminded herself not to fiddle, and clamped her hands safely on Gravy.
‘You’re so modest, Tiger,’ replied Johnson, ‘as your grandmother was a huge name in England and America back then wasn’t she? Coco Schnell, ladies and gentlemen, she performed in the same theatres as American burly legends Gypsy Rose Lee, Lili St Cyr and Ann Corio. Let’s get a shot of her up on screen.’ Johnson Tyler gestured behind him as a black-and-white photograph flashed onto the huge monitor behind his desk. The audience oo-ed and ah-ed at the beautiful image of raven-haired Coco in her sparkling gown slashed to the thigh with a long luxurious cape of fur and diamonds. Tiger felt an enormous twinge of pride, and grief, as she saw her grandma up there being revered all these years later. If only Coco could have enjoyed this moment of glory when she was alive instead of being ostracised as the black sheep of the family.
It made Tiger sad to think she was too young to have ever seen her own grandmother on stage, and even more so that her father forbade her to ask questions about anything to do with her career, as though he was ashamed of his own mother. Nonetheless, Tiger still managed tosteal the odd moment to listen to her grandma’s wonderful stories on the rare occasions she crossed the Atlantic to visit her family. It was true that many of the burlesque stars of Coco’s generation longed to go ‘legit’ in those days and turn to more
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