Julia Williams - Strictly Love

‘Yes you will,’ assured Katie, ‘you just need practice, that's all.’

After twenty minutes, Emily wasn't convinced. Once they'd mastered the basic steps, Isabella had them trying it to music, and then she added in another set of steps which involved turns as well, and Emily got completely lost. Particularly as she'd had to change partners, and none of them bar one were as good as Katie, so she kept getting it wrong. She was sweating profusely and feeling like a total idiot. In her efforts to get it right, she had had her feet stamped on, and done her fair share of feet stamping too. She knew that dancing wasn't her thing, but she'd had no idea how little natural rhythm she actually had, or how hard it was keeping time to the music. That was until she was apprised of the fact in no uncertain terms by a gay dancer, who was training at the local dance school and had only come along to expand his repertoire. His were the only toes she'd trod on deliberately after hearing him mutter ‘bloody amateurs!’ one too many times under his breath.

Eventually the torture ended and Isabella announced it was time for social dancing, ‘So you can put it all together.’ Apparently this meant pairing up with just one other person. Emily looked at Katie, whom she'd been watching gliding around the room with a serenity she felt deeply envious of. Despite her post-baby weight gain, Katie had the natural poise and grace Emily lacked.

‘I'd say I'd partner you,’ she said, ‘but I don't want to be the cause of hospitalising you.’

‘You're not that bad,’ Katie grinned.

‘You know I am,’ answered Emily. ‘So stop being nice. We'll have to find someone else decent for you to dance with.’

‘Ladies, would you care to dance?’ The plumpish bloke from earlier on was pushing his way over, with his good-looking friend.

Katie and Emily looked at each other uncertainly.

‘Please, we don't bite,’ said the good-looking one. ‘Besides, you have to take pity on us. I'm being chased by a raging nymphomaniac, and I need to seek sanctuary.’

Katie laughed. She had been watching Mandy Allwick in hot pursuit of their new companions all evening.

‘Well, if you need rescuing from Mandy, I think we might be able to help,’ she said.

‘Oh, you know her?’ Mark asked.

Katie pulled a face.

‘For my sins.’

Mark was about to chip in with something about Beth being at school with Mandy's son, and then, remembering Rob's strictures, thought better of it.

‘As it's your first time,’ Rob whispered to Mark, ‘I'll give you the pretty one, and I'll have the one with the fat thighs.’

Mark, who thought the not-so-pretty one had seemed rather nice, smiled awkwardly at Emily and said, ‘Shall we?’

‘If you like,’ said Emily. She felt awkward too. The new arrival was even better-looking close up. He had rather soulful eyes, she thought. There was a kind of brooding intensity to him that she found appealing. She felt a brief flickering of interest, which she dismissed instantly. She was here for fun, not to pick up men.

Katie was fuming. She'd overheard Rob's whispered aside, and her poor opinion of him, based soundly as it was from two minutes' observation of his cockiness as he came into the room, had increased a hundredfold. She would have liked to tell him where to get off, but she thought Emily deserved a decent shot at his friend, who seemed altogether nicer.

‘The one with the fat thighs heard you, by the way,’ she said, as Rob took her by the hand and started to quickstep.

‘Oh.’ Rob had the grace to look sheepish. ‘Did I say fat thighs? I meant to say gorgeous eyes.’

‘Of course you did,’ said Katie drily. The cheek of him. He was so sure a pathetic compliment would make up for insulting her. Still, he was so sure of himself, maybe she could have a bit of fun with that …

‘Do you come here often?’ Mark decided that a mocking approach was the best way to deal with the situation. It was so long since he'd asked a woman to dance, and the hour he had spent trying not to trip over people's feet had made him very aware that he was a contender for the most useless dancer in the room. But for the first time since Sam had left he felt the spark of interest in another woman. Mark wasn't sure if it was the determined look that had come across her face while she was listening to Isabella's instructions, or the rather panicky eye rolls that had set in when she had clearly forgotten them again. Or it might have been the way that she pealed with laughter when he stepped on her toes. He was so grateful that she hadn't slapped him.

‘This is my first time,’ she said, laughing again, her whole face lighting up. ‘So be gentle with me.’

‘If you're gentle in return,’ Mark batted back. ‘The name's Mark, by the way.’

‘Emily,’ she replied. ‘You honestly can't be a worse dancer than I am,’ she added, as Mark took hold of her. His hands were sweating, and despite trying to remember Isabella's admonitions about relaxing, he felt stiff and awkward.

‘I don't know about that,’ said Mark as he stepped on her toes once again. ‘Sorry. You see what I mean.’

‘It's okay, really,’ she said, ‘I think we're probably quits on that front.’

‘This is horrible, though, isn't it?’ said Mark, desperately trying to maintain a closed position and keep four/four time. ‘I don't know why I'm here.’

Emily laughed again as she realised that once more they were out of step with each other.

‘Just dance like no one's looking,’ she said, as they both paused for breath.

‘Do you think that will work?’ asked Mark, looking around. ‘I can't help feeling everyone's staring at us.’

‘I'm sure they're not,’ said Emily, ‘but if we dance as if they're not, it doesn't matter, does it?’

‘Dance like no one's looking,’ said Mark. ‘Where have I heard that before?’

‘On Green Wing ?’ suggested Emily. ‘That's where I heard it first.’

‘Oh, I love Green Wing ,’ Mark replied.

‘Me too,’ said Emily. ‘It's one of those proverb-type things. No one knows who wrote it. It goes like this:

Dance like no one's looking. Love like you've never been hurt.

Work like you don't have to

Live like it's heaven on earth.

* * *

I think that's rather lovely, don't you?’

‘Dancing like no one's looking is probably the best recipe I can think of for getting through this excruciating experience,’ said Mark.

‘Charming,’ she replied.

‘Oh God, that didn't come out right,’ said Mark. ‘It's not all.’

‘It's not all what?’ Emily teased.

‘Excruciating,’ said Mark. ‘I mean, you're not.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ said Emily. She felt secretly flattered. She hadn't come here on the pull, but as they continued their awkward trotting around the room, she reflected that it was nice that someone other than Callum had showed an interest in her. However vague, it was a very welcome boost to her ego. Even if he did keep treading on her toes.

‘The name's Rob Dylan, by the way,’ Rob said as he expertly led Katie round the room. Irritatingly he seemed to be rather a good dancer, ‘as in Bob's younger, more good-looking brother.’

‘Of course,’ said Katie. ‘I spotted the resemblance instantly.’

Rob was a bit of a revelation actually. Katie's previous experience of dancing lessons had been fun, but had not exactly filled her with confidence about the dancing abilities of the majority of the male of the species. Charlie wasn't bad, but their wedding day was probably the last time they'd danced together. Not only could Rob dance, but he knew how to lead her properly too. Which meant that, rusty as she was, she felt she was actually dancing the foxtrot the way it was meant to be danced. With Rob, she was gliding round the room with perfect confidence. For a few fleeting moments she felt graceful again. She was grateful to him for that at least, even if he was a bit of a twat.