Julia Williams - Strictly Love

As she approached the corner shop her eye was caught by a poster.

Tempted to Tango? Ready to Rumba? Can't wait to Waltz? Come to Isabella's Dancing Classes on Tuesday Evenings at 8–9.30 p.m. Beginners welcome

Tempted? Was she ever. In her early twenties, Katie had spent a happy summer learning how to waltz. She had been young, carefree, in her first job in London, where she knew no one. Week after glorious week in a summer, filled in her memory only with sunshine and happiness, Katie had gone along to dance, and had discovered that she was rather good at it. Then she had met Charlie through a mutual acquaintance. Nothing much had happened between them till she'd persuaded him to come dancing too. Katie was fond of saying he literally whisked her off her feet. And when the summer ended in the tragic and sudden death of Katie's beloved father, it had seemed natural to fall into Charlie's arms and seek comfort there. Within the year they'd been married, but somehow they'd never gone dancing again.

She stared at the notice. Perhaps she could give it a whirl. Maybe she should ask Charlie if he wanted to come along. She knew her mum would babysit for them, and it was certainly a way of spending more time together. Besides, if he made any objection, she could always say she was doing it to lose weight. That should shut him up.

‘Ballroom dancing? What, like on Strictly Come Dancing ?’ Emily collapsed in fits of giggles on Katie's comfortable sofa at the idea. It always did her good to come here. Katie's house was so serene, a haven of ordered domesticity which provided a sharp contrast to the chaos of Emily's own life. She had no idea how much effort went into keeping a four-bedroom house inhabited by three males so tidy, but given how much mess Callum always seemed to make in her place, Emily guessed it was rather a lot.

‘Yes, why not?’ said Katie.

‘And you want me to come along?’ asked Emily. ‘What about Charlie?’

‘I did ask him,’ admitted Katie, ‘but he didn't want to come. Will you come with me? I used to go years ago and it's great fun.’

‘So you'll know what you're doing, then,’ said Emily. ‘Me, I've got two left feet.’

‘Oh go on,’ said Katie. ‘I need someone to keep me company. Anyway, what else are you going to do on a dull February evening?’

What else indeed? Emily thought over her options. Tuesdays usually involved getting dragged to one of Ffion's PR bashes, but Emily had scarcely seen her since Jasmine's book launch. Ffion was notoriously touchy, and had clearly taken offence that Emily had gone home early on that occasion. Not that Emily minded all that much. To be honest, it made a nice change not to have to hang around sweaty nightclubs. There was always Callum, of course. Although, since their loved-up weekend she'd scarcely seen him either. That, too, she was finding peculiarly restful. It was always exciting being around Callum, but also incredibly stressful. You never knew what to expect. And of late the excitement didn't seem to be counteracting the stress all that much. Which only left –

‘Is working late a good enough excuse?’ Emily knew the answer to that question.

‘No, it is not,’ said Katie firmly. ‘you've used that one on me far too often recently. It's about time you got a life.’

‘Yeah, you're right,’ replied Emily. ‘I must admit, the thought of doing an all-nighter at work doesn't hold the same appeal it once did.’

‘And what about Callum?’ Katie asked. ‘Does he hold the same appeal?’

Emily sighed and sipped her wine.

‘Now there you have me,’ she said. ‘I just don't know any more. When I'm with him it's great – well, most of the time. Although he was absolutely useless about Dad. He says he doesn't do that kind of stuff very well.’

‘Didn't that make you want to deck him?’ Katie said. ‘I don't think I could put up with that. Charlie was truly fantastic when my dad died. He took a week off work to be with me, and was really brilliant to my mum. And he spent weeks afterwards giving me little treats to cheer me up. Flowers, chocolates. That sort of thing. He even remembered the anniversary, and took time off to visit Dad's grave with me. I couldn't have got through it without him.’

‘I know, I know,’ said Emily. ‘You're right. Callum uses me horribly. And when I'm not with him I'm fretting about him not texting me, or worrying that he's flirting with some other woman. And then we go out and I'm anxious the whole time in case he gets too drunk and does something stupid or comes to meet me from work high as a kite.’

‘He hasn't, has he?’ Katie looked suitably horrified.

‘Once, although he promised not to do it again,’ admitted Emily, ‘but I can't really trust him not to.’

‘What you need’, declared Katie, ‘is a change of scene. Come on, you're always banging on about how much you hate going up to town. Spend some proper time here once in a while. Get to know people round here. It might do you good.’

‘I thought you hated it here,’ said Emily with some surprise.

‘Well, I'm here too much,’ said Katie. ‘I could do with an injection from the metropolis once in a while. But you, you need to take a break from all that. So come on, cut me some slack here. I'll feel too much like an idiot if I go to dance classes on my own. After all this time, I probably can't put one foot in front of the other any more. Please come with me.’

‘I am so going to regret this,’ said Emily. ‘But go on, you've twisted my arm. I'll come.’

‘Great,’ said Katie. ‘That's settled then.’

‘Yes,’ Emily agreed, taking another sip of wine, 'so it is.’

‘ Bienvenida , welcome,’ a small dark woman ushered them in. An off-the-shoulder top clung to the contours of her lean body and her red skirt swished and swirled as she moved on gold open-toed sandals with a heel, which Katie coveted immediately. With her long, raven-black hair tumbling down her back, and her gold hoop earrings, the woman resembled a glamorous gypsy queen. She motioned Katie and Emily to follow her into a large studio lined with tables and chairs. The lights were dimmed, the Blue Danube was playing in the background and couples were already dancing. Katie and Emily exchanged worried glances. They all looked scarily proficient.

‘You must be Isabella,’ said Katie. ‘I'm Katie Caldwell and this is Emily Henderson.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ said Isabella, with the faintest hint of a foreign lilt. She looked part Spanish, or Portuguese perhaps. Katie already felt clumsy beside her, and wondered whether she'd made a terrible mistake. Charlie had teased her mercilessly about going dancing, conveniently seeming to forget that at one time he'd enjoyed going himself. He was spending the week at his company's headquarters in Amsterdam discussing a potential takeover bid, so Katie had organised a babysitter. At least she didn't have to put up with Charlie's ribbing tonight.

‘Right, first things first,’ said Isabella. ‘Have either of you done any dancing before?’

‘I can waltz after a fashion,’ said Katie, ‘and I know how to rumba. But it's been a long time.’

‘Me, I can't dance to save my life,’ admitted Emily cheerfully.

‘ Excelente . We'll put you both in the beginners’ section for now. Katie, if you find it too easy there, we'll think of moving you on. Have you ever tried for any medals?’

‘Oh God no,’ said Katie. ‘I'm more of an amateur enthusiast.’

‘We cater for all sorts here,’ Isabella reassured them. ‘Though be warned, there are some who take it very seriously.’

Having extricated their fee for the evening, Isabella bustled off to deal with some other new arrivals.