Georgia Hill - Say it with Sequins

“It’s one I made earlier!” he said and he kissed her through their laughter.

“God Harri,” she moaned a little later. “I think you’ve finally found your hip action!”

Step Nine.

In the car on the way to the studio, Julia snuggled up to Harri and whispered, “So, are you finally going to tell me what you said to me in Welsh?”

He rolled his eyes heavenwards and tutted in mock despair. “I told you, it means it’s one I made earlier. It’s a sort of a pun you know on … but honestly, if I have to explain my jokes all the time, this relationship is doomed.” He stopped as she hit him.

“Not that! What you said last night, you know, as you erm –”

“Oh that!” He looked at her with amusement lighting his dark eyes. “You’re not brilliant with languages, are you, cariad? Have you forgotten? I’ve told you what it means, already!”

Julia shook her head and grinned. “I’m about as good at languages as I am at dancing!”

“That bad, eh?”

She gave him another playful punch.

“And another thing, you’ve got to stop hitting me!”

“Tell me!”

“I will – but another time.” He glanced at the driver who was obviously intrigued as to why he was picking up both Harri and Julia from the same address that morning. “Another time when we’re alone, see.”

And for the moment Julia had to be content with that.

Jan had been furious with her for being late but it hadn’t broken into the bubble of happiness that she existed in throughout the day. She came across Harri often as he rehearsed with Eva and they made stupid little signs and gestures to one another.

“Me, I am to be sick!” announced Eva at the final dress rehearsal later that afternoon, as a comment on their behaviour.

“Tsk. Unprofessional,” agreed Jan but he was secretly delighted that Julia, finally, was showing signs that she could actually dance.

The atmosphere in the quarter-final show was electric. The judges went wild over Harri’s newfound confidence and, to Julia’s amusement, declared that he had finally found his hip action. She’d caught his eye at that point and they’d had hysterics. Julia sobered up quickly when she found herself in the dance off, competing against Callum. Despite being the bookies’ favourite, he’d performed abysmally in his quickstep; it just hadn’t been a dance suited to big man like him.

The four of them stood breathlessly in front of the judges after the exertion of dancing yet again. Julia tried to console herself with the thought that getting as far as this was as good as it could get, to get to the semi-final would be a miracle too far.

As Charlie announced that the judges were about to declare the result, based on the best performance in the dance off, there seemed to be a buzzing in her ears and it was proving hard to concentrate. An ominous silence fell on the studio and after a wait of what seemed like three days the announcement was made.

A resounding cheer sounded around the studio and the entire crowd rose to their feet. In contrast, Jan fell to his knees beside her and appeared to be praying. Even for a Russian this seemed a bit of an over emotional response thought Julia and then Callum, gripping her in a bear hug, squeezed all rational thought out of her.

“Good on you,” he yelled in his gruff Scottish accent and then took advantage of her confusion to give her a disgustingly sloppy kiss.

“Wha-what?”

He put her back on the floor and peered down at her. “Did you not hear? You’ve got through. You’re in the semi-final!”

To Julia, it seemed as if everything exploded in a deafening riot of noise and colour. The other competitors, who hugged and kissed them with lavish excess, surrounded her and Jan. Then the crowd parted and Julia saw the person she really wanted: Harri, standing slightly apart, as he always did. She shot into his arms like an arrow finding its target and hung on.

“Da iawn, cariad bach,” he whispered into her ear. “Well done!”

Step Ten.

Julia opened her front door at the first knock. She knew it would be Harri. After the celebrations in the studio, he’d gone home to get some fresh clothes with the promise to come back with the papers and to enjoy a lazy Sunday with her. She had coffee perking, croissants warming in the oven and was looking forward to spending some time with him. But as soon as she saw his face, she knew something was very wrong.

Harri stared around him cautiously, shut the door and grabbed Julia by the arm. He took her into her kitchen at the back of the flat, pulled the blind shut and threw his collection of papers onto the table. He sank into a chair.

“Harri, what’s wrong?”

He looked up at Julia’s worried face, she already knew him so well, he thought and there was little point hiding the news, she’d find out soon enough. He flipped open a red top and pushed it over to her.

“The heat is on as Who Dares Dances stars rumba to love!” screamed one headline.

With a sinking heart, Julia sat down and read on:

“ Who Dares Dances stars Harri Morgan and Julia Cooper are getting some hot love action off the dance floor. Training to perfect their passionate rumba, has spilled into their private life. ‘I could see them getting more and more intimate,’ said one source, close to the couple.”

Feeling sick, Julia pulled another newspaper over and opened it. Pictures of her and Harri were splashed all over the second page. There was one of them practising the rumba – a still from training footage and a photograph of them hugging one another after the quarter-final result. She read the beginning of the attached article:

“Harri, thirty one and Julia, twenty seven, have become increasingly friendly. An insider on the show said: ‘They were seen getting very cosy at an after show party. They couldn’t keep their hands off one another!’

“The couple have also been spotted sharing intimate late night dinners designed strictly for two. Our source added, ‘It’s become obvious they have strong feelings for one another and I think it’s getting in the way of their training.’”

“Cheek!” exclaimed Julia, “we’ve both got so much better. Casey?” she looked questioningly at Harri, “Eva?”

He shrugged. “It could be anyone. It could even be Abi from the pizza place. Have you seen this one?” He passed her yet another tabloid.

She took it wordlessly and then gasped at the photos of her and Harri kissing passionately while they waited for the taxi home the other night. She got distracted for a minute thinking how gorgeous he was, in his long leather coat and black jeans and then realised just what the press coverage would mean. She looked at him, dismay on her face. “Oh, I’m so sorry Harri!”

“We haven’t exactly been discreet, have we?” He rubbed a weary hand over his face and managed a weak grin. “I suppose it was inevitable that it would come out.”

“Have you … has anyone contacted you from Red Pepper ?”

“No, not yet. No doubt I’ll get a call tomorrow.”

“What will they do?”

Harri searched for her hand and found it. “I don’t know,” he frowned deeply, “they might not renew my contract, or give me the sack straight away.” He shrugged again. “Who knows?”

“What, just for going out with me?”

He managed a grin at her outrage. “It’s not so much that.” He took an enormous breath, realising he’d have to tell her the truth. “I have this clause in my contract, see. They made me sign it.” He searched for the right words. “I’m not supposed to form any personal relationships with anyone else on the show.” He rushed on, ignoring her stricken expression. “I suppose it’s really more of a case of being seen doing stuff like that, see.” He nodded to the photograph of them kissing in public. “They don’t usually mind me having a private life just as long as it’s not seen happening – and doesn’t get into the papers. Then they added this bit in the contract, just for this show.”