Part 5 Jane's Old Boyfriend - Diana.

Darla answered the doorbell's summons. "Hello, young lady. I am Diana Philips. I believe Jane is expecting me?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Darla answered with a curtsy. "I am Darla, Jane's ward. Won't you please come in?"

The woman barely got in the door before Jane swept out of her office and gathered the other woman up into a warm affectionate hug. "Diana! How wonderful to see you again!" she cried, as much from relief as from pleasure.

They held each other just a moment longer than might have been proper, but Jane felt somehow buoyed up by the presence and support of her old friend. When they finally pulled apart, Jane caught the glimmer of a smile and a wink before she turned to introduce her little band. "Diana, I believe you have met Darla? Darla, this is my old school friend, D. . . Ms. Diana Philips." Jane had only at the last minute remembered not to use Diana's professional title of "doctor". At least, not until after Diana had formed an impression of the girl.

Jane gave her old friend a thorough once over as her foster child made a "Miss Manners"-perfect greeting to Diana. Diana made a very attractive woman. She was still quite slender, with a nicely shaped, subtle figure. The skirt of her dark blue travel suit went to knee level and showed off a very nice pair of legs. Her skin was smooth, and except for laugh wrinkles about her eyes and mouth, unlined. Only her hair gave away anything of her age. Done up in a complex French braid, her hair was a shimmering silver. A touch of color, and it would have looked like that almost white tone of nordic blond. Still, the impression was one of a younger woman in her late thirties, early forties, who had gone prematurely gray.

Diana finished her pleasantries with Darla and then turned her head expectantly towards Caitlyn. Picking up her introductions, Jane continued, "And this is my newest student, Caitlyn Jeffries. Caitlyn, this is my dear friend, Ms. Diana Philips."

"Pleased to meet you, Ma'am," Caitlyn said softly as she, too, curtseyed. Not as well as Darla, but a good effort nonetheless, Jane mused.

Caitlyn had obviously dressed carefully, keeping well within her limitations in the arts of dress up and make up. She wore a casual, but nice sweater and skirt combination, with white stockings and a pair of smart flats. Her cosmetics were very light, in one of the few styles she had managed to master and her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail. All in all, she looked like a very young teenage girl who had just recently been given permission to wear a *little* bit of make up by her mother.

Diana smiled at Caitlyn. "My, aren't you lovely. Let me get a closer look at you, girl." An elegant, finely fingered hand reached up to cup Caitlyn's chin. The girl went very still, her whole body taking on that nearly frightened, "doe-in-the-headlights" tension that Jane recognized from the previous day's second "walking practice".

Diana tilted Caitlyn's face this way and that, cooing happily at her, and complimenting her looks. Caitlyn, for her part, could do nothing but stand there and take it, seemingly unable to move even her lips enough to make a suitably pleased or grateful sound.

She only relaxed after Diana released her and had turned back to face Jane. "Well, I must say I am happy to be here, Jane. I am sure we'll have a great time."

Forcing a smile, Jane nodded. "I do hope so, dear. Why don't I show you to your rooms? Darla? Caitlyn? Would you have tea ready when we come back down? Say, about twenty minutes?" Jane then led her friend toward the stairs. "I will get Tom and his boy to bring in the rest of your luggage, Diana, but let's at least give you a chance to freshen up after your trip."

Darla and Caitlyn watched the two older women leave. "Let's go finish making the tea, Caitlyn," Darla ordered. "I've got the sandwiches and pastries already finished."

~---------------~
"Does she *always* freeze up like that when someone touches her?" Diana asked as soon as the door closed behind them.

Jane shook her head. "Not that I've ever noticed, Diana, but then I don't let people other than my immediate little circle just touch my girls with such familiarity. Actually, the only other time I have seen her freeze up like that was yesterday when I surprised her with that second exercise in heels."

"The same exercise that you called her attention to her walking in them without difficulty when she responded to Marie's apparent re-injury?"

"Yes. However, Marie tells me she often freezes like that when she oversees Caitlyn's cosmetics training."

"Neither of which she does very well," Diana said thoughtfully, "except when she was fully focused on an emergency?"

"Yes, and also at two o'clock in the morning, when she thought everyone else was asleep."

"When you saw her dancing?" Diana asked. At Jane's emphatic nod, she frowned. "I'd like to see that tape, Jane. Later tonight. In the meantime, what do you know about her home life?"

"Only what is in the files provided to me by her parents and Ruth. Her mother doesn't work, but is involved in many charities and committees. Dad is a fast-track business type who doesn't have as much time to spend with Carlton as he might wish. Nothing all that unusual. Certainly nothing that would explain the problems he has had with me," Jane admitted. "However, I have dispatched an investigator to check things out a little more deeply. He was scheduled to arrive in her hometown around noon today, in fact."

"Excellent. Well, that about covers everything for now. I am starved. Wearing this infernal corset limits how much I can eat, but I still get hungry. Anyone who believes that "I'm never hungry in a corset" garbage hasn't worn one. I still get hungry - I just get hungry a lot more often because I can't stoke up the fire as well as I can when I am in my corset-less male skin."

She caught the worried look on Jane's face. "Don't worry so much, dear. My first reading of your problem-child is that Caitlyn is essentially a pretty nice kid. There is something else at work here. We just have to figure out what it is."

~----------------~

Diana watched, her eyes glued intently to the small TV screen, as Caitlyn's screen image completed one last graceful spin, held her final position for a full ten count and then dropped into an incredibly low curtsy.

"Remarkable," she repeated for what had to be the hundredth time since she'd joined Jane in the upstairs study after everyone else had gone to their beds. "No wonder you thought she was defying you, Janie. Lord, but that was incredible."

"Yes, it was, and you know that I *loathe* being called Janie, Artemis," Jane said in her most intimidating "teacher-to-student" voice.

"Sure I know it, Janie," Diana answered unfazed, her amber eyes twinkling with mirth. "Why do you think I use it? For the same reason you call me Artemis."

Choosing not to pursue the argument, Jane waved a tired hand toward the now-blank screen. "What do you think?"

The laughing eyes immediately became serious. "I am not ready to make a diagnosis, if that is what you are asking, Jane. However, I am beginning to see a pattern. She's completely alone in that video, and because of the hour, she expects to stay that way. After the way she reacted to me giving her the "grandmotherly" going over and complimenting when I arrived, I decided to try other, similar types of contact - which I did, numerous times over the course of the evening."

"And you learned?" Jane asked with great patience.

"She doesn't react like that simply from being touched or addressed. I don't know what makes the difference, but it is very obvious when it does happens. I have seen dress shop mannequins with more flexibility."

"You think that is significant?"

"Have any of your other students reacted that way? If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that for almost all of your boys that kind of contact - a friendly touch, an honest compliment, a hug - would be like a manna from heaven to a starving man."

"No, now that you mention it. At worst, they might be very suspicious of any contact or attention of that nature, worried that it is something I have instigated to cause them more humiliation, but for the most part you are right, Diana," Jane admitted wryly. "They don't get much in the way of simple affection in my keeping, especially in the early days, and they relish whatever they get."

Diana reached over to pat Jane's hand. "Understandable. Such life changing experiences are almost never easy rites of passage. Yours is far kinder and gentler, and much more effective than others I have seen."

"Thanks, Diana," Jane said softly. "So, what do we do now?"

"Well, I'd like to stay in here after everyone goes off to bed and see if she dances again tonight. I want to observe the entire affair from start of finish."

"She may not dance tonight," Jane cautioned. "I only saw her do it that once."

"Then I will keep coming back each night." A teasing smile lit Diana's face. "I *am* a woman of leisure for the next two weeks. No one will notice if I sleep past breakfast."

"All right, darling, but why don't you do your waiting in my private rooms? I assure you that you will be far more comfortable there than you will be in here, and I do have the same monitoring systems in there as you see here."

"Offering to show me your etchings, Janie?"

"Maybe at some point, smartie, but for now I am just offering you a place to sit that will be far more comfortable than anything in here."

Grinning widely, Diana rose and offered Jane her hand. "Comfort is good - very good, in fact. I really was not looking forward to sitting on . . . " her nose wrinkled delicately in disgust as she looked down at the settee she'd been occupying, "*that* antique monstrosity for any longer than absolutely and unavoidably necessary."

Jane laughed softly at her friend's obvious discomfort. "Antiques of that era were built to *look* pretty, Diana, not to be comfortable. Not only that, but they were designed in an age when women wore bustles and ungodly corsets. So, of course, no normal human being could sit comfortably or naturally on any of them. Besides, why do you think I bought them? They are an acid test for my girls. When one of my laddie-ladies can sit down gracefully on one of these instruments of gluteal torture and still look sweet and winsome, I know I have made real progress with that student."

"But on the downside, *you* have to sit on them, too, and get sore, stiff necks in the bargain," Diana said slyly.

"True, dear. I believe the appropriate slogan is 'No pain, no gain'. But there are advantages to everything. Sitting in one of those abominations puts me in the perfect mood to terrorize my little darlings."

"Every silver lining has a cloud. I am sure that those things must qualify as cruel and unusual punishment, Jane," Diana giggled softly as they made their way into the hallway leading to Jane's apartment.

"Well, if you don't tell Ruth, darling, I won't. Besides, I am not technically a penal institution. It's true that many of my boys come here as an alternative to incarceration, but they are not actually under a sentence. At least, not formally under sentence."

"Only because you don't really exist as far as anyone knows, except for Ruth and a few other trusted officials like her."

Jane opened the door into her rooms and motioned Diana to enter first. "God willing, it will stay that way, too. Now, do you still drink brandy, or would you like something stronger?"

"Brandy is a fine idea, Jane. Something aromatic to the nose, smooth going down, with just a touch of a bite would be just right for talking the whole night, remembering the good times we shared together."

~---------------~

Surprising both of them, Jane and Diana managed to wake up in time for the normal Thompson breakfast hour of 8:30 A.M. The meal itself was plain - just coffee, fresh fruit and pastries, but tasty and nicely presented.

"Thank you for seeing to this, Darla," Jane said as she refilled her coffee cup.

"Oh, it wasn't me, Aunt Jane," Darla replied. "I was going to do it, but Caitlyn already had everything just about ready when I came down. All I did was make the coffee."

"I see," Jane murmured. *That girl was up for almost two hours last night doing the equivalent of a high impact aerobics class and she still gets up in time to fix breakfast? Not just fix breakfast, but in time to make up individual plates and flower arrangements? Why isn't she drooping from pure exhaustion?* "Thank you, Caitlyn. Everything was lovely."

"I'm sorry we didn't have a hot breakfast, Ms. Thompson, but yesterday was market day, and with Ms. Marie laid up and Ms. Philips coming to visit, I forgot to remind you we needed to go shopping."

"Don't worry, dear," Jane said with a touch of warmth for the girl's evident - and to Jane's mind, quite real - concern. "We'll get Marie to help us with a shopping list and take care of it today."

A momentary frown clouded Caitlyn's face. "Umm. . Ms. Thompson, today is class day. If it is all right, and you don't think Ms. Marie will need me, I would like to go."

Diana watched the interplay between the two with keen interest. *So, she likes going to dance class, but Jane says that she performs as badly there as she did beautifully last night. One would think, at first blush, that her intent at failing there was a ploy to get out of the class. If one had not seen her dance in the privacy of her room, that is."

"I would love to see the dance studio, Jane," Diana interjected. "I just love watching young people move so freely and elegantly. Are you preparing for a show soon, Caitlyn?"

Caitlyn's head drooped and she broke eye contact with the older women. "Yes, Ma'am. Sleeping Beauty, only I won't be performing." *Was that the merest sigh of regret I heard in her voice,* Diana wondered. "I am not yet able to dance in public."

*What a clanker,* Jane thought. *Yet, if she wants to go, then there is hope we can find out what is really going on here. "All right, Caitlyn. I will drop you and Diana off at the studio while I go to market. Darla will remain here in the case that Marie needs any assistance."

The smile that lit Caitlyn's face momentarily stunned everyone else around the table. "Oh, thank you, Ms. Thompson. I will go change as soon as I clear away and clean up from breakfast."

"No, you go get ready now, Caitlyn," Darla broke in. "You got up and did all the hard work. I will take care of the clean up."

Caitlyn rounded on her "big sister". "You're sure? I mean, it won't take but a minute. I could help," She offered quickly.

"Caitlyn!" Darla all but growled.

"Yes, Darla?"

"Go . . . Get . . . Ready!" Darla ordered. When Caitlyn still hesitated. "NOW!"

Another of those blinding smiles lit Caitlyn's face as she stood to leave. "Thank you, Darla," she said, and then leaned over to kiss her shocked mentor on the cheek before hurrying from the room.

No one said anything for several long moments. Darla simply held her cheek and stared at Caitlyn's exit door, her eyes wide and her mouth round. "She's never done *that* before," Darla finally managed to rasp out.

"Another puzzle piece, Jane," Diana said with admirable reserve as she took another sip of her coffee.

"Yes, it is," Jane agreed, her own expression mirroring Darla's. "But she seems to be getting each new piece from a different box. Just when you think you're putting together a landscape puzzle, the dratted girl hands you a piece from an abstract art rendering." She shook her head. "Now what?"

"She wants to go to dance class. I will try and observe her behavior there without her realizing it."

~-------------~

Diana watched the class warming up at the barre. It was a mixed class - if you could call a grouping of twenty teenagers, only three of whom were boys, mixed. At least one of the boys seemed quite talented. Probably why the dance mistress was willing to take on a ballet quite so advanced as Sleeping Beauty for their performance.

Something of a ballet buff, Diana watched the class unfold with growing respect for the dance mistress. She drilled her students hard, but always with encouragement, always finding something positive to balance each correction. She showed extraordinary patience with Caitlyn, who seemed ready to fall on her bottom anytime she had less than both feet planted flatly on the floor.

Caitlyn stayed in the warmup room while the rest of the class went onto the studio's mocked up stage to practice the actual choreography of the ballet they would be dancing. Most of the girls seemed to have something encouraging to say to Caitlyn as they passed by her. *Evidently she is at least liked here. Is that the reason she wants to attend, even though she seems determined to be inept? Is it friendship and acceptance she finds so seductive about this place?*

Diana took a position in the main studio that afforded her a covert view of Caitlyn in the warmup room while still giving the appearance of watching the performers on the stage. Soon, the wonderful music of Tchaikovsky filled the small theater and everyone was caught up in the master composer's magic.

Including, Diana suddenly realized, Caitlyn. Obviously oblivious to anything except the rapture of the music, Caitlyn's exercises at the barre suddenly became fluid, graceful and to Diana's eye at least, highly proficient. A quick glance at the soloist on the stage showed that Caitlyn was following each movement and step. Lost in the music's spell, Caitlyn had again 'forgotten' to be clumsy.

~-------------~

"So," Jane said reflectively, "Once again she is distracted, this time by the music, and forgets herself. Did the dance mistress see any of this?"

"No," Diana replied, taking a sip of her tea. "And I didn't call her attention to it. Something is happening there that I don't think we can afford to lose at this point. For one thing, she is accepted and apparently well liked there."

"She is? Even as poorly as she dances there?"

"She isn't a threat to any of them now that it is known she won't be in the performance, and she goes out of her way to make herself useful. She gets drinks, or she'll play the piano to accompany someone who wants to work a little extra on a part. I even saw her partner one of the soloists as she warmed up before going on stage. Nothing very elaborate, Jane. She just held the girl's hand and balance points while the girl did her extended movements."

"So, as yet another puzzle box opened and its contents scattered onto our already full table. Is this making *any* sense to you, Diana? If she hates the feminine touches here, she should hate them period. If she is really uncoordinated, she should be uncoordinated all the time."

"I think it is fairly clear after this afternoon, and after watching her both on tape and live last night, that she neither hates the feminine touches nor is she uncoordinated - quite the opposite in both cases, in fact. Having established that fairly firmly in my mind, I am at a loss to explain the other things I have observed about her."

"Be sure to let me know when you figure it out, then," Jane said in mild disgust. She started to say something else, but was cut off by the phone.

Sighing, Jane picked up the phone. "Thompson residence."

"Jane? Hi, this is Reggie Walters." Jane smiled as she recognized the name and voice of her former student who had gone on to become a security specialist. Reginald (Gina) had been sent to Jane because the combination of his very inquisitive mind and his skill with computers had gotten him in trouble. Several very large companies objected to fourteen year olds hacking their computer systems and helping themselves to free samples of whatever the company happens to be selling. Now, Reggie used his skills as a private investigator/security systems expert - often fighting the same type of kid he used to be. Two of Jane's more recent students had been "caught" by Reggie who had then referred the distraught parents to Ms. Jane Thompson.

"Reggie, so good to hear from you. What have you found out?"

"Well, don't ask me how you knew, but you were right. I talked with Carlton's mother and he has had formal ballet training. She used to dance professionally herself at one time - quite well, in fact - and continued taking classes when she retired to get married. She used to take him to class with her all the time. It was a regular thing with them from the time he was old enough to walk, right up until about a year and a half ago."

"Why did it cease to be a regular thing?" Jane asked as she put the phone on speaker.

"His mother doesn't know. He just refused to go with her anymore. She is still a little upset about it because evidently, the boy was talented, if perhaps not quite in the way Mom might have liked."

"How so, Reggie?"

"Evidently, he was really graceful and very dedicated to improving his skills. Unfortunately, even by the time he was almost fourteen years old, he wasn't developing much in the way of upper body strength. He could dance the child parts, but he wasn't strong enough physically to partner a ballerina, even as just one of the chorus."

"They don't call it a chorus in a ballet, dear, but I understand your meaning. So he stopped taking lessons well over a year ago?" Jane wanted to reaffirm.

"As far as his Mom knows, Jane. Is there a reason you are concerned about that?"

Jane looked over at Diana who nodded her assent. "Yes, there is, Reggie. He's been dancing here, and far too well for there to have been a long layoff before coming to my home. At least, I think that he is too adept not to have been taking lessons. Could you check around, maybe go to the studio or any other local studios and see if they have any information about that?"

"Sure, Jane. No problem." Reggie paused. "Jane?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I think you should expect a call from the boy's mom. She was very concerned that her son hasn't made more progress in the time you've had him there."

"She's not the only one, Reggie, but thanks for the warning. I will expect the call. Bye now."

Jane hung up the phone and looked at her old friend. "Well, at least we know that he *used* to study dance. That's something."

"We know a good deal more than that, Janie," Diana said softly. At Jane's raised brow, Diana gave her a wan smile. "We know that something happened in his life - something sufficiently important to change the habit of a young lifetime rather abruptly. A habit, I might add, that we have graphic proof that the young man still enjoys, albeit in private."

"Traumatic?" Jane asked warily.

"Perhaps yes, perhaps no. We will have to wait and see. Right now, we just know that something made him feel he had to quit."

"I take your point." Jane rose from her seat and stretched. "I need to take a walk before I settle down to fixing dinner. With Marie still on bed rest, someone needs to cook. The girls have done their part so tonight is my turn."

"Need some help, Janie?"

An evil grin that more than one hundred boys and young men would have instantly recognized and feared lit Jane's face. "Certainly, Artemis. How are you at chopping onions?"

"Makes my mascara run, and I told you, my name is Art, now. If you *must* call my by a masculine name. I do prefer Diana when I am dressed, dear."

"Well, come along. We have plenty of cotton balls and cold cream for fixing your face later. I buy the stuff by the caseload since my boys need to fix or change their faces so very often. Surely *you* remember that, even if you weren't really in my program."

"Bitch," Diana retorted affectionately.

"Just so you keep *that* firmly in mind, darling," Jane gave back sweetly. "I think salads and French Onion soup will make just a perfect dinner, don't you?"