Nine Till Three and Summers Free

by Mike Kent

  The effect of his speech was little short of miraculous. A generous cheer sounded from one corner of the hall and spread infectiously. The band changed the tune to an invigorating rag and couples hurried forward to take Dudley at his word, helped by the additional sudden appearance of the rugby club, also just back from an away match and eager to help drain the bar dry as quickly as possible.

  ‘Well now,’ breathed Duggan, ‘It looks as if it might turn out to have been worth our money after all.’

  The band changed gear again and moved into a different tempo on the same tune.

  ‘It’s supposed to be a waltz,’ I said. ‘We can do that one.’

  ‘Right. We’re off then’. He screwed up his eyes and peered round the shadowy extremities of the hall. ‘From what I can make out, there’s a small group of ladies over there who need me. They look bored stiff. I’ll meet you back in the bar when they play something I can’t do.’

  Since I’d come with the intention of dancing too, I looked around for a partner. Although I’d tried hard to improve my dancing technique since my days in the sixth form, I was only willing to have a go when the floor was crowded. I glanced round the hall and then to the entrance, where a slim, attractive girl in a tartan coat was handing her ticket to Dai. I edged my way across the hall and asked her if she would like to dance.

  ‘I’d love to,’ she said in a soft, warm voice. ‘I’ll put my coat somewhere first, though.’

  In a few minutes we were moving falteringly round the floor.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m a dreadful dancer,’ I apologised, trying desperately not to tread on her feet. ‘I’ll try not to cripple you.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m not that much better myself,’ she smiled. ‘My father paid for some lessons for me, and I was fine while I was dancing with the instructor, but pretty awful with anybody else. Then the instructor kept asking me out, so I stopped the lessons.’ I wondered if this was a gentle hint that I should keep my distance.

  ‘Anyway,’ she continued. ‘It’s quite a change to meet somebody who can’t dance very well. Most of the people who ask me to dance turn out to be undiscovered Fred Astaires.’

  As I steered her into the light near the stage, I realised just how attractive she was. Her features were sharp, finely sculptured, with high cheek bones and almond-shaped hazel eyes. Her long blonde hair and pale complexion contrasted strongly with the warmth of her deep red dress. I noticed how little make-up she wore, and how unnecessary it would have been anyway. Deep inside, I congratulated myself on moving so swiftly.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I apologised suddenly, moving her awkwardly to avoid the couple next to us. ‘I wasn’t concentrating. I was just thinking how attractive you are.’

  On any other occasion, I would have groaned at such an obvious cliché. This time, however, I surprised myself because I really meant it. She smiled warmly, waiting for me to speak again.

  ‘Which training college are you from?’

  ‘I’m not a potential teacher, actually,’ she admitted. ‘I work in the library at the moment. Mostly the children’s section. My parents own the delicatessen in Merton Road. Isn’t it cold in here!’

  ‘The only place where the radiators are working properly is on the top corridor. Well, not properly. Most of the thermostats are jammed. It’s often like a furnace up there and I suppose we’ve just got used to it, but it was unbearable the first few days here. If you’re too cold we’ll go up there for some coffee’.

  She laughed out loud and stopped dancing for a moment. ‘Now hold on,’ she said. ‘I have heard that line before!’ I reddened, feeling extremely angry with myself because I hadn’t meant it to be interpreted in that way at all.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I honestly didn’t mean…’

  ‘I know. But you understand my caution. Come on, let’s dance. You were doing well.’

  We steered round a couple who had given up the waltz and were sitting on the floor staring at each other in mournful but mutual admiration. A few feet away, Dudley was dancing round in circles, his arms outstretched, either looking for a partner or oblivious to the fact that his most recent one had escaped in alarm. Somebody bumped into us and apologised in an extremely loud voice.

  ‘I’m dreadfully sorry, mate. Not my fault at all, actually. It’s Judith here. Tanked her up a bit too much. I can never get her bloody level right. Still,’ he added, thrusting a beery face into mine and speaking in a stage whisper, ‘We’re off upstairs in a minute. Not sure if Judith’s quite up to it though. Oh, hello Sam. I thought it was you. Where’s David?’

  I stopped dancing for a moment, not knowing quite how to handle the situation and wishing I had a few precious moments to think about it.

  ‘Hello Derrick. He’s sprained his ankle putting up these decorations.’

  ‘Oh, tough. This is… er… Judith.’

  Judith didn’t seem in much of a state for introductions. With one arm thrown around Derrick’s neck and her gingery hair looking like a wig that had been put on backwards, it seemed for a moment that she might sink to her knees and remain in that position until the dance ended.

  ‘Well,’ said Derrick, obviously disappointed, ‘It looks as if the love of my life has had it for tonight. I’ll…er… see you around, then.’

  Taking a deep breath, he hoisted Judith to shoulder level and disappeared into the gloom. Samantha and I drifted towards the stage, but it was impossible to speak above the noise of the saxophonist, who was having trouble making himself heard above the drummer. The drummer, I noticed, had a wedge of cotton wool tightly screwed into each ear. The dance ended, and we waited for the next one.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask your name,’ I said, anxious to speak while we could still be heard.

  ‘That’s all right. It’s Samantha Baxter.’

  ‘So you’ve been up here before?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Samantha. ‘I often come to the dances, but they’re usually better than this. The band’s awful. I went with David to the Halloween Ball last year. Did you get to that?’

  ‘No, I haven’t been here long. It’s my first year and we’ve only really just started. At least, we’ve only just started to do some work.’

  ‘It’s not that hard, is it?’

  ‘Some of it.’ A fleeting vision of Dr Frost flashed through my mind. ‘We get a reasonable amount of time off, though.’

  The band started up again minus the guitarist, who had taken the cover off his amplifier and was cautiously inspecting the inside. I moved Samantha gently back to the most populated part of the floor, where Dudley was involved with a group of three girls in what seemed a peculiar combination of dancing and stomping on each other’s toes. Two of the girls were as drunk as he was. Samantha’s eyes darted round the hall as she danced.

  ‘Where is everybody?’ she asked. ‘There are usually more than this. The Halloween Ball was absolutely packed.’

  ‘A lot of students have gone to another dance that’s been cancelled. Quite a few haven’t turned up because the band doesn’t have much of a reputation. Others have gone home for a breather before teaching practice. And I think some have decided it’s just too cold to come downstairs. Still, it’s a lot better now than when we came in. There was hardly anybody here then.’

  ‘What are you going to teach when you leave?’

  ‘That’s a long time away. Primary children, though. If you’re teaching a whole range of subjects you don’t have time to get bored with just one.’

  ‘In London?’

  ‘Probably. For the first couple of years at least. It’s a bit too early to say, though. I’d like to stay down after college and rent a flat. Provided I pass, of course.’

  ‘You’re bound to, aren’t you? They pass everybody, don’t they? Aren’t they desperately short of teachers at the moment.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’
<
br />   As we danced, I found myself concentrating on Samantha instead of the movement of my feet. She seemed to anticipate my movements and corrected me skilfully when my footwork drifted out of sync. She was, I realised, a much better dancer than she’d let on. As the band finished the number they were playing, Tony pulled the microphone towards him.

  ‘And… a… now,’ he cried in broken English, ‘Issa the time for the ladies’ turn. Ladies, find the man which you like and dance with him, yes? Now is your chance. Okay boys, one, two, three, four…’.

  Before I had time to suggest a drink, Derrick appeared at my side.

  ‘Mind if I have this one, mate?’ he said, grabbing Samantha.

  ‘It’s supposed to be her choice,’ I objected.

  ‘I know, old boy, but that’s an incredibly sexist point of view, and we don’t need to take any notice of that, do we? Had to leave Judith outside in the fresh air for a bit, I’m afraid. Fell asleep on me. You don’t really mind, do you?’

  I minded a great deal, but Derrick, well oiled and determined, whisked her away with steps that brilliantly outclassed my own. Disappointed and annoyed, I moved towards the bar. With the sudden arrival of the coachload from the cancelled barn dance, the hall seemed to be getting more crowded by the moment, even though the event was officially due to end in an hour. Members of the rugby club were mostly dancing with each other in threes, ignoring any rhythm the band was trying to set. Hardly anybody sat at the tables now, and those who weren’t joining in were wandering round the edges of the hall looking for partners to make the most of the remaining time. I turned to look for Duggan and almost fell into the arms of a well-built girl who grabbed me enthusiastically, flinging her arms around my waist and hurling me into action with the ease of a hammer thrower.

  ‘Great!’ she breathed. ‘Great, great! Do you come here often?’

  I gave a strangled cry as I tried to breathe.

  ‘Gosh, sorry about that. Simply don’t know my own strength,’ she giggled happily. ‘Marvellous. Super hop. Are you St. James’s?’

  I grunted agreement, freeing myself a little.

  ‘I’m Joan of Arc.’

  ‘Well,’ I said, breathing more easily now, ‘I should stay away from fires if I were you.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I said, if you’re Joan of Arc, you should stay away from fires.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘It’s a joke. You know, Joan of Arc was burned..’

  ‘Oh I see. Rather poor taste. Never mind, I’ll forgive you this time.’ She spun me round in a wild pirouette, and the hall swam dizzily.

  ‘Came up on a coach,’ she said. ‘We always come to your hops. Last one was better.’

  ‘I didn’t get to that,’ I said, looking around wildly for help.

  ‘No, thought I didn’t see you. What’s your main subject?’

  ‘Science.’

  ‘Science, eh? Mine’s Religious Knowledge. Not that it means I’m a nun or anything.’

  She chuckled and gave my right buttock an affectionate squeeze. We swung round violently and careered into two other couples, ending up in a heaving pile of bodies that moaned and grunted. A girl who had the misfortune to be at the bottom of the pile screamed loudly, and sensing the opportunity for a swift getaway I moved discreetly backwards. I was suddenly gripped by the shoulders. ‘For heaven’s sake,’ retorted a red-haired girl wearing enormous spectacles and a bowler hat, ‘Do look where you’re going.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I apologised, ‘I didn’t..,’

  ‘Right, okay. That’s all right. Shall we dance?’

  She braced herself, swung her shoulders like an athlete limbering up, leant slightly backwards, and shook her head in time to the music. I found I could see right up her nose.

  ‘What step are you supposed to be doing?’

  ‘I’m just jigging about, really,’ I said with a tired sigh. ‘I’m not a very good dancer. Perhaps I ought to sit down and..,’

  ‘That’s all right. I’ll lead and you follow. I taught half our girls to dance and I’m pretty bloody good at the male part. You don’t mind, do you?’

  ‘You mean you want me to do the girl’s steps?’

  ‘Mmm. Be a jolly sight easier for me. Just follow my feet. You’ll soon get used to it. I’m Denise, by the way. Who are you?

  ‘Mike.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you Mike. Let’s go.’

  She was taller and a great deal heavier than me, and for a moment I considered standing on her feet and letting her manoeuvre me round in a tight circle. However, since she kept her feet a good distance apart, it was possible to stand almost stationary between them and simply apply a counteracting pressure to her waist each time she lunged forward. We moved to and fro with a sort of pumping action that kept both of us more or less rooted to the same spot.

  ‘By the way,’ said Denise earnestly, ‘I might as well tell you right away I’m not going up to your room.’

  I felt an intense sense of relief, and nodded fervently.

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘So long as we understand each other. I’m not a good time girl, you know.’

  ‘Of course not. I didn’t…’

  ‘Well, we have to make sure. At one of your hops one of them told me he’d got some slides of Venice and I ended up ironing his shirts.’ Keeping one hand clamped like a vice to my left shoulder, she swung the other one behind her and made a fluttering movement with her fingers. I thought she was trying to scratch the small of her back and I offered to help.

  ‘No, leave it,’ she urged. ‘I’m signalling.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Signalling. I’m signalling to Jenny.’

  A girl dancing with a member of the drama club caught her eye and waggled a finger in reply. I was at a loss to understand what was going on.

  ‘We signal to each other,’ Denise said, feeling I deserved an explanation. ‘We come to each other’s rescue if we get in a jam.’

  ‘What sort of a jam?’

  ‘If we’re in danger of being dragged off to your rooms and we don’t fancy it.’

  ‘I hadn’t even considered it,’ I replied truthfully. ‘What happens if you’re both in trouble?’

  ‘We signal to Melanie. She’s over there holding the fort while we dance. We take turns.’

  ‘Oh.’

  She shifted into fourth gear and swivelled round to face Jenny, who waved encouragingly.

  ‘If I’m going too fast, shout,’ Denise urged.

  ‘No, no, I’m fine,’ I said feeling vaguely nauseous.

  ‘Third year, are you?’

  ‘No, first.’

  ‘Oh. Hard luck!’

  ‘Well I don’t mind, really.’

  ‘Hated my first year. Wanted to get out and see some action.’

  ‘Which year are you?’

  ‘Third. Soon be doing the finals. Murder. What are you doing tomorrow?’

  ‘I don’t know yet. Why?’

  ‘You can come over to the hostel for tea if you like. Meet the rest of the gang.’

  ‘Thanks, but…’

  ‘That’s all right. I’ll come up here to you if you prefer’.

  ‘I’m not sure if…’

  ‘You can buy me a drink and we’ll arrange it in the bar. Oh, they’ve stopped playing. Well, here we are then. I’ll just go and tell Jenny. Don’t move.’

  She ground to a halt and I bumped against her chin. The pause in the music lasted only a moment, and feeling bruised and delicate I moved urgently amongst the largest group of students I could see, hoping to lose myself while I took stock of the situation. I couldn’t see Samantha, and I was determined to conceal myself from Denise. The best plan, I thought, would be to dance with the closest unattached girl, and throwing caution to the wind, I swept one into my arms.

&n
bsp; ‘Hello,’ I said apologetically. ‘Would you dance with me for a moment? There’s someone I’m trying to avoid.’

  There was no answer, and I suddenly realised that the rather pretty girl in my arms was crying bitterly. Embarrassed, I took a deep breath, pushed her head on my shoulder and plunged forward. The band was attempting a tango, and this made my discomfort even more acute.

  ‘Come on,’ I said, ‘My dancing isn’t that bad. What’s wrong?’

  ‘Everything,’ she sobbed.

  ‘Is there anything I can do?’

  ‘No, nothing.’

  I dragged her around desperately for several minutes, which made her cry even louder.

  ‘Can’t you really tell me what’s wrong?’ I urged, a little annoyed.

  ‘It’s Grahame,’ she sniffed. ‘He promised me he wouldn’t dance with that cow. Done up like that, throwing it at him. He promised, the rotten bastard.’

  She said this with such vehemence that the couple dancing next to us paused mid-step in astonishment, and the male half squinted at my partner.

  ‘She’s not talking to me, is she?’ he said to me. ‘I mean, we haven’t even collided with you yet. What’s the matter with her?’

  I gestured helplessly.

  ‘Well, I shouldn’t drag her around like that, poor soul,’ he said sympathetically. ‘Yours, is she?’

  ‘It’s all very complicated. I just sort of got hold of her for a moment.’

  ‘Well, I should just sort of let go of her again, chief,’ he advised earnestly, whirling his partner away from us. The girl’s sobs began to affect our dance steps, setting up a counter rhythm of their own.

  ‘Would you like to sit down?’ I asked hopefully, but the girl took no notice.

  ‘It wasn’t like that when we met,’ she cried. ‘When I found out about that bitch he promised to leave her alone and then last week I went to his room and he wasn’t there and I waited and waited and he came in with a tin of baked beans and his shirt was all over the place and I know he’d been with her even though he said he’d only been out to buy a tin of baked beans because he thought we might get hungry, and I hate baked beans even more than I hate him.’