Chapter 98

The first act of their concert was brilliant beyond belief.

All of the musicians and dancers wore white. The choreography was stunning; the dancers themselves told the story as the musicians sang it. The characters were represented by masks. Usually these too were white, but coloured masks were used to show emotion.

They started with the Goddess, a character that Gerald had introduced when he first thought of the album 'Friends' being turned into a rock opera.

He had a bit of me next but we won't go into that.

Then 'Christine', 'she' roamed the stage, appearing all over the place, until constrained by duty and obligation. Now limited to a very small section of the stage we could see her delight as she met, and helped, other travellers.

'Joasia' came as a little relief. Parts of 'Karolina' intertwined. The dancers showed Joasia's love for her daughter, showed her hard life and the enormous joy the two women felt when they found their saviour.

'Sasha' weaved in next. Bright and lively, she battled against numerous men, sometimes being pushed back, but always moving forward eventually.

The themes of Sasha and Paul interwove deeply. I thought one could almost taste the love these two had for each other.

'June' was next; tears came to my eyes during the first few bars. Watching Geraldine perform on both grand piano and synthesiser raised my spirits, but I waited, all who knew June waited, for her horrible end.

The three main dancers twisted and turned round the stage, a male figure, me I suppose, weaved in and out throughout the piece.

Dancers performing militaristic moves, marching, sharp steps, rigid formal postures, all so unlike the gay flowing freedom of the other characters, appeared. They occupied one end of the stage while Joasia, Karolina, June and Paul, moved freely throughout the rest of the area.

With a suddenness that was almost shocking, the militaristic people surrounded June, Joasia and Paul. The three 'good' characters disappeared beneath a crowd of stiff oppressive men.

When the crowd broke apart June, Joasia and Paul were lying still on the ground.

With horribly discordant notes ringing in our ears, the curtain came down.

I looked at my watch; it had only been 45 minutes. 45 minutes of a huge emotional roller-coaster, raised up in joy, warmed with love and then crashed down with grief.

We couldn't hear the reaction of the Wembley crowd, but the reaction of the locals said everything to me. They loved it.

I held Sasha's hand as we waited for the second act. Moments before the curtain was raised again she came and sat on my lap and hugged me.

"I love you, precious man, don't every forget that," she whispered in my ear.

Now tears came freely and easily.

"I love you to, wife-to-be," I replied.

"And don't you forget that either, buster!" she said with a laugh.

With that remark, and a quick kiss on my cheek, she returned to her own chair.

The curtain rose to an almost empty stage. There were only three still bodies lying where we'd last seen them at the end of the first act. A gasp rose from the crowd here, this scene was so shocking, I wondered if mothers were shielding their children, but was too riveted to the stage to turn and look.

Then Geraldine, head bowed, arms held loosely by her side, stepped slowly out to her piano. Still standing, she started to play. A haunting melody, based on the Joasia and June themes, rose up. Then, with a suddenness that made me jump, made all of us gasp in surprise, the stage was filled with dancers. Sasha to the forefront, she raced from body to body, finally staying beside one, Paul. In the confusion, the two dancers portraying Joasia and June took off their masks and blended in with the crowd. We, the audience, saw the two masks rising slowly upward.

June and Joasia were no more.

Karolina frantic for her saviour; rushed away and brought back three women, one obviously larger / older than the other two. These Karolina brought to Paul and Paul had to start looking after them. They were obviously in much worse condition than he was. The new girls took a large part in the next few dances.

The dance that portrayed my recovery was wonderful. Bolero-like in its rising tempo, the grace and agility of the dancers surprised me. The signing, vocals without actual words, raised my spirits. Paul was on the road to recovery.

During the recovery period, Sasha leaned over to me, "Have you noticed all of the people coming over to Paul?" she asked. "They come with a sad face and leave with a happy face; I think that they're showing us, you helping people, but they're doing it very subtly."

"I've noticed one or two," I agreed, "I'll keep a look out for them."

Once Sasha had pointed these characters out to me, they became obvious. Every few minutes, a single dancer, wearing a sad mask, would approach Paul; the two would dance a few steps together, then split. Each time, sad face left happy.

I realised that there was much more going on in this spectacle than I first saw. I remembered these sad / happy faces in the first act, but hadn't understood their significance. I knew this concert was being recorded; I was going to get a copy and watch it a few times so I could, hopefully, appreciate the whole complexity of this fabulous event.

This act ended with Paul and Sasha, hand in hand, followed by a string of girls, leaving their home. Heads held high, walking gracefully, swaying slightly but together, the crocodile passed across the front of the stage, and passed from view behind the musicians' area.

Then, thinking about the dancer who currently wore the Paul mask, I realised that, while I knew that different dancers carried the main characters masks, the choreography was just too energetic for one person to dance continually. After all, it was the mask who was the character, not the dancer. The dancers themselves had been chosen very carefully for each stage of the story. The man who led the girls away from home had been a large man with an imposing physique. Yet earlier, the dancer had been small, slim, unassuming.

I sat back in my seat. I actually hadn't realised that I'd been sitting forward, entranced by the performance.

I was hungry. This concert was going on far longer than I expected, and if I was hungry, what about the families, those with children? I thought fast for a moment. The Chateau wouldn't have enough supplies to feed this audience ... but the factory would. I wonder, is anyone from the factory here?

I turned; Joan was two rows behind me.

"Joan..."

Joan smiled and pointed to the side of the meadow. There were vans and trucks arriving, and now I could smell the aroma of the food.

Joan smiled, "Compliments of Karen, Boss."

This break was much longer than the first. We had time to select, and eat, a fine meal. I don't know what standard of fare was being served in Wembley, but here it was magnificent. I also noticed, and was quite proud of this fact, that the food and drink was being served without cost. And, while there were one or two who abused this, mostly the people only took what they would eat, leaving plenty for everyone else. I was pleased, and proud, of this restraint and community spirit.

Fed, watered, and refreshed, we took our seats again for act three.

The curtain rose again to reveal Sara and Chantille, standing alone and in front of their previous positions.

Sara started singing, Chantille provided the harmony. Then they swapped. Their voices were superbly clear, in tune and melodic. While I'd been captivated by song, dancers had come onto the stage and their graceful movements heightened my enjoyment.

Haunting sounds from a synthesiser made me look to the musician's area again. Geraldine was standing, playing what looked like a five bank keyboard, maybe two or three stacked keyboards. Her fingers seemed to flash across the keys, we could see the intensity written deep across her face, and the huge smile there too. Geraldine was having the time of her life. I was so, so glad that I'd managed to get Gerald and Geraldine together.

When Gerald and the rest of the band came back on stage I also saw something else, Geraldine's expression when she looked at Gerald; and his expression when he looked at her. They were in love, no doubt about it, they'd be married within six months, I was sure of it. I wondered if I would finally be freeing a slave; or would I just be transferring her ownership?

During this act, the military types maintained their presence on the stage, but always in an area where the other dancers vacated.

In the middle of the third act, three of the military types split away from their group, snatched two of the smaller girls and dragged them to a quiet area. While the main set of dancers carried on unknowing, and the military types postured and paraded, the two girls were brutally murdered. For the first time the dancer's costumes were coloured; coloured with the blood of their victims.

The act was portrayed as brutal violence visited on innocents. The two small bodies lay unseen in an out of the way corner of the stage for nearly five minutes.

The main dancers suddenly became agitated, their movements hard, sharp, we felt the uncertainty, the worry, the despair.

The girls were 'found', Paul came across the stage, at the start he was the largest male dancer, by the time he reached the girls, he was the smallest, thinnest male. He looked heart-broken, shattered by this violence inflicted on those he loved.

With the help of Sasha, Cecy and Harold, each played by the tallest of the dancers, Paul came to terms with his grief.

The curtain came down on act three. It was time to recover a little from the emotions generated, and remembered, by act three.

Alison came over with a pint of John Smith's. She placed it on the small table beside my chair, then whispered to Helen. Helen looked at the drink and then over to the edge of the meadow where our cars were parked. I suspected that a barrel of John Smith's was in the back of one of those cars, together with who knows what other things that my girls thought that we might ... not need, but just want.

I took the time to surreptitiously watch Helen. She looked about her nervously. I noticed that she watched the other gold collar girls carefully. And she noticed that some girls, obviously body slaves, seemed to be deferent to other girls, gold collar girls, who were not body slaves. Helen looked at Sasha and me, too, carefully keeping an eye on her Master and his lady love, trying to be attentive to our needs. But, always when she managed to spot something we might want, she would turn to see another girl already bringing it. Each time though, the girl who supplied us would go and whisper to Helen; probably to tell her what to look for, tips on how to please us.

Act four started. The curtain rose slowly, to reveal and empty stage. Nothing happened for, what seemed like, a long time. Then, from the back of the stage, came a procession. Two small coffins, each carried by four people, were followed by Paul and Sasha. Paul was the smallest dancer I'd seen carrying the Paul mask. I thought that 'he' was a she. Sasha this time was larger than Paul, He leaned on her. They were followed by the rest of the dancers. The military people were strutting and posturing on the other side of the stage, seemingly celebrating their 'victory'.

The funeral procession stopped and the mourners gathered around Paul and Sasha. Gerald sang Paul's eulogy, and an impassioned speech. Three times during this speech, our attention was diverted, first to the coffins, then to the military men, then to girls weeping. Each time 'Paul' changed. At the end of the speech, the mourners seemed to be fired with a passion and resolve that had been missing until now. And 'Paul' was, again, the largest male.

Paul and Sasha danced a duet, Jamie, Bernie, Sara and Geraldine singing their love song. The dance, music and lighting combined to make an emotional overload. Tears streamed from my eyes, my heart soared, unconsciously I reached out to Sasha, to find that she was reaching out to me. We held hands as our ... our avatars, made their love on the stage. A love which wasn't diminished by the distance, nor the video through which we watched, a love which we had felt before in each other's arms.

This dance sexually aroused, without making us feel 'dirty' about our public arousal. It fired our sensations and imaginations. The song lifted our hearts, lifting us high, our hopes soaring, our aspirations lifted above the daily mundane.

When the four singers and two dancers gave their bow, I was physically and emotionally drained. This was the best representation of pure love that I had ever seen or heard of. This was a product of genius.

The 'good' dancers stayed on one side of the stage, the 'bad' dancers the other. Then I noticed that 'Paul', again danced by the smallest dancer, was creeping through the musician's area. This was the first time that any of the dancers had gone in there, then I saw that 'The Goddess', was watching over Paul.

While the 'good' dancers distracted the others, with Sasha appearing almost all over the 'good' side of the stage, Paul would run out and touch one of the 'bad' dancers. Each time that 'bad' dancer fell to the stage, a large red stain growing on his chest.

One time, a 'bad' dancer spotted Paul, but The Goddess saw him, then, walking unseen through the centre of the 'bad' dancers The Goddess touched the man and he spiralled off the stage, his chest stained black.

Paul, returned to the 'good' dancers. Occasionally he vanished for a moment or two. And slowly the military posturing subsided; the military dancers grew fewer and fewer.

Paul and Sasha danced a slower rhythm than the other 'good' dancers. And soon the two lovers stood, centre stage, at the front. Paul holding Sasha in his arms as they both faced the audience. Then Sasha placed her hands on her abdomen. Glancing down shyly, she took Paul's hand and placed it on her abdomen too, then looked up at her mate.

The two lovers kissed as the curtain came down.

This part of the saga was complete.

I was astounded. I knew Gerald was a genius, every music critic writing a piece about him mentioned that fact. His genius also extended to inspiring others to exceed what they considered their limits. I'd heard a lot of the music and songs before, but these pieces, when combined with the choreography, and the lighting, raised the whole well above the already stupendously high standard that they set.

There was absolute silence for nearly a minute and then out audience exploded into cheers and applause. Sasha grabbed hold of my arm, I pulled her to me and hugged her tight as we both cried out cheers.

The curtain rose again, there were three people standing close to the front of the stage, Sara, Chantille and The Goddess.

The Goddess danced the epilogue as Sara and Chantille sang. I was certain that only one of them needed to sing that epilogue, though I wouldn't have wanted to be the one to tell either Sara or Chantille that the other one was singing it.

Reassuring us that this was only the first part of a longer saga, The Goddess, rose up, as the curtain came down.

We applauded again, and again.

The curtain rose and the cast and musicians stood and each took their own bow. All of the dancers were treated equally. The musicians took their bows together, all of them. I was thrilled to see the looks of love pass between Gerald and Geraldine, and Sara and Chantille.

Then Gerald leaned over and kissed Geraldine, our applause reached new heights. Sara leaned over and she too kissed a fellow performer, Chantille. This kiss was returned just as ardently as Geraldine had returned Gerald's. This time the audience was shocked into silence, then like a clap of thunder, a roar of approval rose from us and echoed round the estates.