by Emma Davies
She said a polite thank-you to Joe as they dropped out of hold and moved to stand a little closer to her friend. Their tutors always had a bit of homework for them, giving them something to practise in between classes, and Lia waited in anticipation to hear what they were going to cover the following week. She beamed a smile at Hattie when it was announced that they would be learning some of the basic steps of the foxtrot; it was one of her favourites.
Class dismissed, she wandered over to collect her things, waiting while Hattie did the same, taking sips from the bottle of water she had brought along. She shrugged on her jacket and patted her pocket for her car keys.
‘Oh, that was such great fun!’ she laughed. ‘I haven’t moved at that speed since I was about six.’
‘I know,’ agreed Hattie. ‘Only trouble is that while my mind is willing, this lump of a body has other ideas. I’m cream-crackered!’
Lia shot her a look. ‘What lump of a body? Honestly, Hattie, anyone would think you were enormous the way you talk. My heart was going like the clappers by the end too.’
‘Yes, we had noticed.’ She laughed.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, frowning gently.
‘You and Joe, going nearly double the speed of everyone else.’
‘We were not!’
‘Yes, you were! And don’t try and deny it. Anyway, I’m only teasing, you looked like you were having a ball, and I’m only jealous because if I’d have gone that fast I would have passed out.’
Lia tutted, but Hattie just grinned.
‘Wait here for me?’ she said. ‘I’m just going to pop to the loo… Never have children,’ she added, ‘it does unmentionable things to your pelvic floor.’
Out of habit Lia took her phone from her bag to check for messages. There rarely were any – Gwen was as capable as they came – but she still liked the reassurance that all was well at home. She leaned up against the wall in the hallway and watched as everyone drifted past her, calling goodnight wishes as they left. She was still staring into space when a sandy-haired man shot through the double doors at the end of the corridor where she was standing and rushed towards the studio she had vacated moments earlier, yanking open the door.
‘Is everyone always this late?’ came the voice from beside her.
Lia looked up in surprise. ‘Sorry?’
‘Only I couldn’t find a bloody parking space, and now I’ve run the whole length of the road and there’s no-one even here yet.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Are you waiting, too?’
The question caught Lia off guard. Whether it was the directness of the words spoken or the fact that the man speaking was standing far too close for comfort, she wasn’t sure, but she stammered over her reply, blushing bright red. She tried to take a step backwards but there was nowhere for her to go.
‘I’m not sure,’ she said.
He stared at her, wide lips slightly parted, his whole face wearing a rather distracted air. Even his hair looked agitated.
‘What does that mean?’ he asked.
Lia couldn’t even remember what she’d said.
‘The dance class…’ he intoned. ‘Are you waiting for it?’
‘Oh, the ballroom dancing, you mean? No, that’s just finished. I’m waiting for a friend.’
His eyes bored into hers, olive green under vaguely red eyebrows. He looked at his watch again. ‘Shit, do you mean I’ve missed it?’ There were freckles too.
Lia gave a small smile, wishing he would back away a bit. She cleared her throat. ‘If you mean the beginners’ class, yes. It’s seven until eight.’
‘Not eight until nine?’ he queried. ‘Are you sure?’
He was beginning to annoy her slightly.
‘Well, I’ve just been dancing in it so…’ She let the words dangle.
‘Right,’ he said eventually, after more staring, and then, ‘Sorry, do I know you?’
Lia shook her head, more violently than she had intended. ‘Well I don’t know you, so I would hazard a guess at no.’
‘Right,’ he said again. ‘Bugger… Okay, well maybe I’ll come back next week. Seven, did you say? And you’re sure?’
He shot off again down the corridor before she even had a chance to reply, nearly crashing into Hattie as she came out of the Ladies. She caught sight of Lia as she tried to peel herself away from the wall.
‘The manners of some people,’ she said, smiling at Lia. ‘Should have tripped him up,’ she added.
Lia could only agree.
‘Still, I suppose when you look like that you can get away with anything much.’
Her friend was staring back down the corridor.
‘Look like what? What do you mean?’ asked Lia.
Hattie grinned at her. ‘You don’t get out much, do you? she said, amused. ‘You didn’t notice he was drop-dead gorgeous then?’
‘No,’ said Lia weakly. ‘Was he?’
Hattie linked arms with her. ‘Never mind, you’ll learn. Come on, my turn to get the cappuccinos.’
*
The wine bar was just beginning to get a little busy by the time they got there, but Lia was able to grab their usual table while Hattie went to get their coffees. She returned a few moments later, a cappuccino in each hand, and a bag of crisps caught between her teeth which she dropped onto the table in front of Lia.
‘Hey, why am I the only one eating these tonight?’ she queried, having already opened the bag. For Lia, a posh coffee and a salty snack was decadence indeed, her one treat of the week.
Hattie pulled a face. ‘I dunno; I just don’t fancy any tonight, that’s all.’
Lia gave her a rather stern look. ‘Like I believe that,’ she said. ‘And we’ve more than earned it; I was seriously out of puff at times earlier.’
‘Exactly,’ replied Hattie a little more forcefully than intended. ‘So, it won’t help if I go and undo what little good I might have done by stuffing my face with crisps.’ She stared down at the large round mug in front of her. ‘I shouldn’t even be having this. Do you know how many calories there are in one of these?’
‘No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.’
‘About one hundred and fifty including the sugar. I’d have to walk for half an hour to burn that off.’
Lia looked at her friend’s downcast face. ‘I’ll drink yours then if you like, and you can go and get a glass of tap water instead.’
Hattie looked up sharply to see the amused look on Lia’s face.
She smiled, her shoulders dropping a little. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just that I saw my sister again today for a dress fitting and I’ve realised how little time there is until the wedding. Nowhere near enough, actually.’
‘Time for what?’ answered Lia with a frown. ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’
‘Well, she gets married at Christmas, which only gives me three months to turn myself into a size-eight stick insect. Her other bridesmaids are rather glamorous, you see.’
‘But you’re rather glamorous just as you are!’
Hattie shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. ‘I feel like I’m letting the side down…’
Lia sat back in her chair, looking at Hattie’s glum face. ‘You do realise how ridiculous that sounds, I hope?’
‘Tell me about it,’ muttered Hattie.
‘Or you could tell me?’ suggested Lia. ‘Listen, you sat here last week and had to listen to me whinging on about the day I’d had with my mum—’
‘You didn’t whinge…’
‘Well, whatever.’ Lia gave her an exasperated look. ‘You listened to me, is the main thing, so now why don’t you let me do the same?’
Hattie sighed and ran her finger around the rim of her mug, collecting the stray dusting of chocolate powder that lay there. ‘I’m just being silly…’
‘Oh, I doubt that,’ replied Lia. She held out the bag of crisps in encouragement, pleased when Hattie took one.
‘I don’t blame my sister for wanting everything to be perfect for her wedding �
�� what bride wouldn’t? I certainly did: no attention to detail spared, everything matching – at huge expense. She’s hired a top-notch photographer and spent ages deliberating over what shots he should take, which is all fine except that I can’t help thinking I’m going to stand out like a sore thumb.’
‘She didn’t say that, did she?’ asked Lia, horrified.
‘No, she wouldn’t dream of it. That’s what I mean when I say I’m being silly. I’m probably just being oversensitive, but it’s how I feel.’
‘I can understand you wanting to look nice, or feel a little more confident about yourself, but I didn’t know you were that unhappy about your size.’
Hattie sighed. ‘I’m not exactly. It’s true my self-esteem has taken a bit of a battering over recent years, and I’ve put on weight which I’d be very happy to lose, but after the fiasco that was my own wedding, I don’t want anything to be less than perfect for Jules. So, I’m trying to do my bit so that I look every inch as glamorous as the other bridesmaids.’ She paused, taking another crisp. ‘See, I told you it was daft.’
Lia’s own crisp paused on its way to her mouth. ‘It’s not silly at all… but I never knew you were married before. You mentioned that your ex was a scumbag – is that Poppy’s dad?’ she asked, gently.
Hattie nodded. ‘Although we never actually got married. He had pots of money too, just like my sister’s fiancé, but unfortunately his brain resided in his trousers most of the time.’ She coloured slightly. ‘That was fine when it was me he was thinking about, but not so great when I caught him shagging someone else at our engagement party.’
‘No!’
‘Oh yes… It was like something out of a bad movie. Everybody knew what he was like, of course; everybody but me, that is.’
‘Isn’t that always the way?’ Lia gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Hang on a minute, though; you said earlier that you met your sister today because you had a dress fitting. Does that mean that you were the one fitting it?’
Hattie nodded glumly. ‘I’ve made my sister’s dress and all the bridesmaids’ dresses too…’ She looked up at Lia. ‘And that’s another thing. My relationship with my mum hasn’t been that easy over recent years, so I thought this might be a way of getting back into her good books. I can’t have anything go wrong with the dresses, it would be a disaster. Stupid, isn’t it?’
‘Not stupid, no… understandable, I think. Familial duty is a powerful thing; it’s not always that easy to escape its clutches, and I should know. But listen, you’re putting yourself under a huge amount of pressure already. Try and lose weight by all means, but don’t do it for your sister, do it for yourself instead – because it’s the right thing for you.’ She cocked her head to one side. ‘Besides which,’ she winked, ‘that drop-dead gorgeous man that nearly knocked you flying earlier is coming to the dance class next week. Now he might well prove to be a very good incentive!’
Chapter Twelve
Callum had a feeling he’d been in a daze for the last couple of weeks, ever since Lucy had asked him out for a drink, in fact. Even as the thought swilled around his brain he chided himself for being so daft. Lucy hadn’t asked him out – that made it sound like they’d gone on a date or something, and whatever their quiet drink in the pub had been, it most definitely was not a date. Was it? Callum wasn’t entirely sure what it was, only that ever since then he’d felt like he’d been walking on air. Not even his brothers could pour cold water on his mood. For once in his life, Callum had a feeling that things might turn out to be okay; that he might turn out to be okay. It gave him a tiny glimmer of hope.
In many ways, their drink together had been a bit bizarre. He’d found himself telling Lucy things he never shared with anyone, and it had been uncanny the way she had been able to pick him apart. It was almost as if she’d been able to see right into his very soul, and having seen what was written there she didn’t mock him, or think him stupid – instead she had offered to help. The thought was as exciting as it was utterly terrifying. And at this precise moment, he was scared witless.
Lucy had just brought him over a cup of tea and a glass of water, wishing him luck then leaving him in peace to prepare himself for the day. He glanced up at the clock, and then at his watch just to be on the safe side; the library would open in five minutes and who knew what would happen then? There was a sign above his head, and one on the back of his chair, for good measure. He even had a volunteer badge pinned to his tee shirt, but whether anyone would feel able to ask for his help was another matter.
Doing things this way initially would be helpful, Lucy had said; giving Callum a gentle introduction to being the library’s resident IT guru, and giving her more time to get the classes they had planned advertised and underway. Two mornings a week he was to be ‘on call’ for any users of the library computers who might have a problem. Once they had established the financial support for some evening classes, Callum would lead them, teaching on a variety of subjects each week. Lucy was sure it was going to be a huge success.
The tea was still far too hot to drink, but Callum hovered the mug close to his mouth anyway. It gave his hands something to do. He didn’t expect anyone to come over straight away – the computers weren’t always that busy first thing in the morning – but if they did he wanted to look welcoming and approachable, even if his stomach was tied in knots. And if no-one came then he had plenty of his own work to be getting on with.
An hour and a half later and the tea was stone-cold. He took a quick swig of water, and turned his attention back to the gentleman who had appeared twenty minutes earlier, his fourth ‘customer’ of the morning. Lucy appeared with another cup of tea, waiting patiently by his side until a suitable gap in the conversation enabled her to interrupt.
‘Try and drink it this time,’ she said, smiling – and it was a genuine smile, a warm smile that made Callum feel a trifle unsteady. She turned her attention to the screen in front of them. ‘Ah, the wonders of Facebook. I told you he was good, didn’t I, Don?’
The man in the hot seat gave a wry laugh. ‘There’s life in the old dog yet,’ he joked. ‘Who’d have thought it, at my age, talking to my granddaughter who’s halfway across the world just like she was in the same room? I won’t remember a thing about how to do this when I get home, but Callum here is the most marvellous teacher. He makes it look so easy.’ He shot Callum a sideways glance. ‘You’re going to tell me it is easy, aren’t you?’ He winked at Lucy.
Callum merely smiled. ‘What did you do for a living, Don, before you retired?’ he asked.
‘I was a painter and decorator, why?’
Callum paused, just for a second. ‘Because, as far as I can see, hanging wallpaper in a straight line looks like torture, but I bet once you know how to do it properly it’s easy, right?’
Lucy laughed, catching Don’s eye. ‘See, I told you he was good,’ she repeated.
The rest of the morning passed in much the same fashion, with Callum having very little awareness of time moving on. The only thing he was aware of was a growing sense of something inside of him that almost made him laugh out loud; it was such an ordinary thing, but something he had never felt in his life before. He had excused himself to go to the toilet at one point and, as he stared at himself in the mirror over the basin while washing his hands, he wondered if this new-found feeling showed on the outside. He had to guess that it did, and this made him smile even wider. It was a nice surprise, discovering that he really rather liked people. He liked talking to them, he liked hearing about their lives; the little snippets of information that made one person different from the next. He liked seeing how they approached things, how this became so clearly an extension of their character, but more than that he understood that the way he interacted with them was different as a result, and this thrilled him more than anything. It made him feel normal. So far, he had only spent one morning in his new role, but something had changed inside him, and he wasn’t about to give it up.
Lucy popped her
head around the door to say that she was now taking her lunch break; a cue for his session to end. He removed his badge, and slowly peeled the notices off the wall and his chair with a smile, laying them carefully on the desk beside him. His head was stuffed full with ideas and although his own stomach was grumbling, there was no way he was having a break just yet; he had too many things to research first. His fingers found the mouse beside the computer and he opened another internet tab.
The clearing of a throat behind him broke into his thoughts. He turned to see Oscar standing behind him, an apologetic look on his face.
‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘I know the session is over for the morning, but I rather wondered if you might still be able to help me.’ He glanced towards the door. ‘Only, it’s a bit delicate.’
Callum stared at the face in front of him and smiled as encouragingly as he could. ‘What can I help you with?’ he asked.
There was another check of the doorway. The voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I’d like some help finding out some information, but I’d rather Lucy doesn’t see me.’
‘Lucy?’
‘Yes, only I think I upset her before and so perhaps it’s best if she doesn’t know I’ve been to you for help.’
Callum didn’t think he had ever seen Lucy upset. ‘I see,’ he replied. ‘I’m not sure I understand why my helping you would upset her, though. I mean, this was her idea in the first place.’
‘Apologies, I’m not explaining myself very well. May I sit down?’ Oscar indicated the empty chair next to Callum with a nod of his head. ‘I think you’ve misunderstood.’ He paused for a moment while he settled himself. ‘It’s not the fact that I’m asking you for help which might give offence, but more the nature of the thing I’d like to discuss.’
‘I see,’ said Callum again, frowning gently, ‘although if this… something delicate involves Lucy, perhaps I’m not the best person to ask.’