Future Queens of England

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Future Queens of England Page 23

by Ryan Matthews


  “Guys, what's the problem?” he said as he approached them.

  “There isn't a problem,” Tony said. “I'm just working out the best way to get started.” He began to step from left to right as he concentrated on the music. “I'm just not used to dancing to music like this I just need to find my place.”

  Ben nodded. “Okay then, start simply until you feel comfortable then.” And with that he put his hand onto Tony's back and pushed him into the fray.

  Tony stumbled forward and watched the other dancers carefully and began to imitate them. He hooked his hands together to form a circle and rolled them over his head before bringing them down in front of him. He repeated this move several times before perfecting it and bringing it up to full speed. He then started on his next move, he placed one hand in his pocket and rocked effortless from his right leg to his left leg.

  From the sidelines Ben nodded, obviously surprised and impressed in equal measures. “That guy never fails to amaze me,” he said to Hugh.

  Hugh gulped again.

  “So what's your excuse? What are you waiting for?” Ben said turning his attention to Hugh.

  “No excuse,” Hugh stammered as his breathing quickened.

  “Then let's see what you've got Hugh,” Ben said as he pulled Hugh amongst the revellers.

  Hugh puffed out his cheeks and looked flustered.

  “Well, go on then!” Ben instructed with irritation.

  Hugh closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. He lifted his left arm and began to awkwardly punch the air slightly off beat. He tried his best to correct it and then started to stamp his left leg along with the rhythm.

  Ben squirmed a little as if embarrassed for him, but still Hugh persevered. Hugh clenched his buttocks together and thrust them back and forth with a pained expression on his face the whole time. The harder he concentrated the more awkward he looked. His tongue started to protrude from his mouth as he bit down on it in concentration.

  “Stop, stop, stop!” Ben cried walking over to Hugh. “Just relax, you look so bloody awkward.”

  Hugh hung his head and closed his eyes, “I want to dance but my body doesn't. Every move I make feels lumbered and wrong.”

  “It’s okay, Hugh. Don't get upset, I am here to teach you,” he said in a calming voice. He walked behind Hugh and placed his hands on his hips. “Let's start with the hips, let them feel the rhythm.” Ben pushed Hugh's hips from left right gently in time to the beat. “Do you feel that?”

  Hugh closed his eyes in concentration; he felt Ben moving his hips and tried to link the movement to the music. “Yes, I think so.”

  Bruce looked over at Hugh and Ben and stared longingly at Ben's hands as they manoeuvred Hugh's pelvis.

  “Okay, I think you're getting it. Now try to maintain that movement,” Ben said, encouraging Hugh, as he carefully loosened his grip.

  Hugh continued for a moment and then lost the rhythm. He cleared his mind of all other thoughts and began to find the pattern again. He found it and lost it again several times before it began to feel natural to him.

  Ben held Hugh's arms at the wrist and spoke serenely, “Now try and maintain that movement whilst we do something with your arms. You can't just have them hanging down like that.”

  Hugh nodded and instantly lost the rhythm in his hips. After a moment he corrected himself and waited for Ben to continue.

  Duly Ben started to move Hugh's arms, from the elbow down, in circles. Almost immediately Hugh lost the rhythm in his hips again. Instantly Ben stopped moving Hugh's arms and let him regain the movement in his hips. They worked on this over and over again until Hugh's brain finally began to accept the movements and repeat them almost without Ben's guiding hands.

  Throughout this Bruce looked on jealously. “Why does Hugh get all this special attention?” he whispered to the person dancing next to him without taking his eyes off Ben and Hugh.

  “By the looks of things he needs it,” his neighbour replied bitchily.

  Bruce thought about this for a moment and that devilish glint appeared in his eye once again. He danced over slowly so he was more or less in Ben's eye line and began to exaggerate his moves. His hips jutted left and right spasmodically, completely out of time. Then he pushed his head back and forth like a chicken.

  “Oh, it looks like there's someone else who needs my help. Are you okay to continue by yourself Hugh?” Ben said.

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  Ben quickly walked over to Bruce, “Right! Let's work on those hips first.” He repeated the actions that had helped Hugh. He stood behind Bruce and placed his hands onto his hips and began to move them from side to side in time with the music. Bruce pushed his hips back firmly against Ben's.

  Ben winced at the uncomfortable situation. “Loosen up Bruce,” he said trying to keep his voice steady. “Let's concentrate on your arms now,” he said trying to put some distance between him and Bruce.

  “But I still need more help with my hips Ben,” Bruce implored. “I'm not ready to move onto the next stage.”

  Ben coughed, “Okay, okay.” He held Bruce's hips firmly to stop him from rubbing against him.

  The other students saw Bruce and Ben dancing together and realised Bruce's plan.

  “Look at that,” Keenan said to Gareth. “I wouldn't mind knowing what it feels like to have that sexy bastard’s hands on my backside.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Gareth replied. Then after a moment of thought he nudged Keenan, “Hey watch this. Ben, I need some help too,” he called.

  Ben seizing the opportunity to get away from Bruce said, “Okay Bruce. That's enough for now; you concentrate on this move for a minute whilst I deal with Gareth.”

  Bruce tutted and shot daggers with his eyes at Gareth.

  Ben walked over to Gareth and spoke with some relief, “So Gareth, what are you having problems with?”

  With a straight face Gareth replied, “I can't get my hips right either,” and turned away from Ben offering his hips.

  Ben hesitated for a moment before placing his hands carefully on Gareth's hips, “Erm, yes okay then. Just start swaying gently.” He repeated once more the gentle swaying from left to right.

  Gareth winked at Keenan and rolled his eyes in mock ecstasy.

  “Ben, Ben,” Keenan called. “I need some help too.”

  The rest of the class realised what was going on and joined in the chorus.

  In amongst the melee Tony realised what was going on, “Erghhh. Shit, shit, shit! Get me out of here.” He pushed the surging mass back and in a fit of blind panic stumbled towards the door tripping over cushions and feet.

  Seeing Tony bolting for the door Hugh shouted, “Wait for me,” and forced his way out of the scrum.

  Tony fell to his knees in the confusion and crawled the final few metres towards the door. He reached up to the door knob and pulled himself to his feet. He pulled at the door and rattled the handle before his brain finally composed itself and sent the signal to his hands to turn the damn thing. As he turned his hand he pulled and wrenched the door open. Tony flung himself into the corridor. Seconds later Hugh scrambled out behind him too.

  Tony sat panting on the floor of the hallway and looked over to Hugh. “What's up with you Hugh? I thought that you liked that sort of thing.”

  “I'm claustrophobic,” he replied panting. “And I hate dancing. So there's two reasons for me to get out.” He stood up and dusted himself off. “I'm off to get some fresh air.” Hugh turned and quickly shuffled off down the corridor in the direction of the main entrance.

  Tony sat there for a moment on the cold marble floor listening to the cries of “Get back! I'm your teacher. Control yourselves,” as they passed through the door and echoed down the corridor.

  Later that day the group made their way to the great hall. The corridors were packed with students as they hurriedly made their way through the building.

  “So what's this special assembly about Uwe?” Tony asked.
/>   “I don't know,” Uwe replied, “but I think it's serious.”

  They reached the entrance to the hall and passed under a large stone Gothic archway. Giles spotted Uwe and Tony as they entered and gestured for them to join him and the others. Uwe acknowledged Giles with a simple nod of the head and he and Tony made their way over to where Giles and the rest of the group were seated.

  “Do you know what this is about?” Tony asked his friends.

  Gareth leant forward, “All I know is that it wasn't scheduled into the latest timetable so it must be serious.”

  Tony nodded, “Well I guess we'll find out shortly.”

  “Tony,” Uwe said. “I saw some of your moves earlier today and I have to admit that I was quite impressed.”

  Tony smirked, “Thanks. Who'd have thought I'd got it in me?”

  “I’d like to put it in you,” Bruce jeered at Tony. Tony flicked Bruce the V sign in response.

  “Quite,” Uwe replied indignantly. “Look, I will get to the point. You left before the end of the class so you missed out on some salient information.”

  Tony coughed nervously, “To be honest I got a little uncomfortable in there. You lot were like sharks when they taste blood.”

  Uwe sniffed, “We all get a little over exuberant sometimes. Anyway, we're supposed to come up with a dance routine as our assignment.” He paused momentarily before adding, “We are supposed to do this in pairs and I want you to be my partner.”

  Tony almost choked, “Sorry let me get this straight. The self-proclaimed überschwule wants me to be his dance partner? Is that correct?”

  Uwe stiffened, “Yes, that is exactly what I am asking.”

  Tony grinned. “No,” he said simply.

  “No!,” Uwe screeched, “How dare you?” His face reddened and he began to puff and pant.

  Tony rocked back on his heels and laughed, “Just pulling your leg, Uwe. Sure, I'll do it.”

  “Oh,” replied Uwe trying to calm himself down. “There was that famous British sense of humour again.” His body language relaxed, “Perhaps if you can spare some time we can work on some routines together. As partners.”

  “Sure, that sounds fine, but don’t use the word partner. It makes me uncomfortable.”

  “I have some ideas that I would like to try out, I think you'll get a lot out of it,” Uwe explained as the Head and the teaching staff made their way onto the stage at the front of the auditorium.

  “I doubt I'll get much out of it Uwe. There's not much call for dance routines where I'm from,” Tony said.

  “Ah, but that's where you are wrong. Just think about the women when they see you dance like that at the club. They will be like pâté in your hands,” Uwe said in a voice that could sell ice to Eskimos.

  Tony's ears pricked up at this, “You've got a point there Uwe, but it's putty, not pâté.”

  “Oh I see.”

  Tony raised his fingers to his lips, “Shhh. They're starting.”

  The Head clapped his hands to gain their attention and with a face like thunder he began to speak. “It has come to my attention that someone at this institution has made use of the spray line machine without authorisation.”

  “What’s a spray line machine?” Uwe whispered to Tony.

  “It’s the machine they use to spray paint the white lines on football,” he replied in a hushed tone.

  “In the dead of night this deviant has used the machine to paint a giant outline of a phantom on the school hockey pitch,” the Head continued barely able to hide his outrage.

  Whispers echoed out throughout the auditorium.

  “Silence!” the Headmaster bellowed.

  The room fell silent instantly.

  “This is not the first time that this so called phantom has been daubed on school property,” he continued. “Now listen closely to this warning, when the culprit is found, and he will be found. Then he will be expelled!” He allowed his words to reverberate throughout the great hall before adding, “If any of you have any information then please visit Louise to arrange a confidential meeting. Dismissed!” He left the stage and headed back towards his office.

  The minute he left the hall a cacophony of noise erupted as the students started to discuss this.

  Tony broke away from the group and made his way towards the stage. “Louise,” he called.

  Louise's attention was pulled away from a conversation she was having with one of the teachers and she looked round and saw Tony. She excused herself from the conversation with the teacher and made her way over to Tony.

  “Hi Tony, what's up? Do you have some information on the culprit?” she said hopefully.

  Tony shook his head. “I don't know who the culprit is, but I wanted to let you know that the phantom isn't just confined to this building,” he explained.

  Louise reached into the pocket of her suit and took out a notepad and pen, “Really? So where have you seen it?” She flipped open the notepad and poised the pen, ready to write this nugget of information down.

  Tony hesitated for a moment before speaking, then said in his most casual voice, “In the men's toilets in a night club.”

  Louise scratched away at the notepad, “Okay, this is good stuff Tony. Which nightclub?”

  Tony hesitated again.

  She looked at him carefully for a moment and tried to study his expression. “Are you hiding something Tony?” she inquired. “Are you protecting someone?”

  “No,” Tony replied firmly. “It's not that.”

  “Well what is it then? Tell me the name of the club,” she said trying to prise what information she could from him. “I wouldn't want to think that you were hiding anything from me.”

  Finally Tony cracked. “Okay, I'll tell you. It was daubed on a toilet seat lid in the men's bogs at the gay bar.”

  She rested her pen on the notepad, “At the gay bar in town?”

  “Yes,” he said monosyllabically.

  “What were you doing in the toilets there?” she asked him with an accusatory tone.

  Tony's face coloured, “I was taking a piss. What else would I be doing?”

  “Yes, yes. Of course,” she said with an air of relief. She picked up her pen again and wrote down these details. “That's very useful Tony. Very useful indeed.” She smiled at Tony weakly.

  “What's up Louise? Is something the matter,” Tony said reaching out and touching her arm.

  She looked at Tony and blinked repeatedly as she tried to stop herself getting emotional. “I must find the person responsible for this and put a stop to it. I really have to find out who is doing this or else my job is on the line. The Head is fuming about all the graffiti going up around the school and the painting of a massive phantom on the hockey pitch was the final straw for him.” Her voice wobbled and she leant towards Tony. “How on earth am I going to find the person responsible for this by myself?”

  He put both of his arms around her awkwardly and pulled her closer. “I'll help you,” he said with resolve. “I promise that I'll get this person for you.” She smirked to herself devilishly as he embraced her tightly.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I can't believe that we're through to the quarter finals now,” Hugh squealed ecstatically as his breath swirled in the cold winter air.

  “Well, believe it Hugh. We're on the road to victory!” Tony bellowed as he waved his hockey stick above his head like a maniac.

  “Come on, let's get washed and changed and then we can go out and celebrate tonight,” Giles said jumping excitedly from foot to foot.

  As they entered the changing room their cheers and laughter echoed off the tiled walls. Tony made his way over to his kit bag and slung it over his shoulder. He waited until he thought no one was looking and then tried to make his escape back up to the privacy of their dormitory. Just as he placed his hand on the door handle and pulled, an arm reached out and stopped him.

  “Where are you going, Tony?” the hard Teutonic voice said.

  Tony flinched,
“Christ Uwe, what are you doing sneaking up on me like that?” He released the door. “What do you want?”

  “I thought that we could put in some extra dance practise before we go out tonight,” he said.

  Tony sighed, “Uwe, we've already spent five hours this week practising our routines.”

  “Übung macht den Meister,” Uwe replied.

  “What? Speak English man.”

  “I said, practise makes perfect, Tony,” he said with irritation at having to translate.

  “Yeah I know that, but as well as the dancing we've been putting in extra time at hockey training. Not to mention my running or gym sessions.”

  Uwe patted Tony's stomach, “And don't you look all the better for it.”

  “Ergh, don't touch me,” Tony said squirming, but then quickly smirked to himself and slid his own hand up the front of his hockey shirt. He felt the individual muscles on his stomach and glowed with pride.

  Uwe grinned, “You have every right to look pleased with yourself, Tony. But just imagine how good you'll feel tomorrow morning after you've pushed some birds at the club.” The words left Uwe's lips with an unnatural flow.

  “It's pulled, not pushed,” Tony corrected. “Pulled some birds.”

  “Danke sehr. How are those birds going to resist you tonight after they see your new moves?”

  He realised that Uwe was buttering him up, “I've got the moves sorted already Uwe,” he said resolutely.

  “But don't you want to practise our routine just once more before we go to the club? This routine is so complex. If we can get this right just think of how much it will impress those girls that you are so fond of once they see your moves. They will be all over you like a rash,” Uwe said in a rich tone as he tried to tempt Tony.

  “Well, I guess I can spare half an hour,” Tony said. “But that's all.”

 

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