by S M Mala
‘Well, did I tell you?’ one of the women began, looking excited. ‘I can’t make it to class next week as my husband’s taking me to Lake Como.’
‘That’s great!’ said Freda, flashing Kit a glance. ‘Anything special?’
‘No, we just decided to get away. A friend of ours is a film producer and his house is spitting distance away from George Clooney’s home,’ she said smugly. ‘You never know, I might be in with a chance.’
‘I’ve got more of a chance,’ muttered Stuart, grinning at Kit. ‘You’ll find the ladies love to chat about this and everything. I just concentrate on the dancing myself as they are a nosey bunch.’
Taking a few moments, Kit scanned the class closely and realised he’d have to get to know everyone in the group. Again his eyes led him to the woman dancing atrociously on the right hand side.
It made him feel good to know she would make a one legged tap dancing hippo look elegant. He grinned and she caught his eye, flashing him an angry glance.
‘Are they all friendly?’ Kit whispered to Stuart.
‘I think some of them are liable to bite but not all. I’d steer clear away from Estella. She can be a feisty one.’
Kit looked at the woman whose grey blonde dyed hair was tied back into a pony tail. Her face gave the impression she had something done to keep age at bay. He noticed she was looking at the woman in the red hooded top then realised Kit was watching her. She gave him a bright smile and concentrated on her foot work.
‘I think this might be a challenge,’ Kit mumbled under his breath as the auburn beauty caught his eye. ‘Maybe my biggest one to date.’
‘So tell us about yourself,’
… asked Estella, sitting opposite Kit in the coffee shop.
They’d taken over a section that was cornered off and were grouped together after the lesson. It looked like they reserved the section away from prying eyes and people.
‘There’s not much to say,’ Kit replied, feeling his cheeks go pink, seeing he was the centre of attention. ‘Why don’t you tell me your names again and I’ll find out more about you.’
‘I’ll start. I’m Estella Kerr and I run my own business, health spas and beauty salons all over London. I started taking tap dancing lessons when I was a kid and came back into it because I needed some exercise,’ the woman said, smiling at him.
She was in her late sixties and would have been a beauty in her day, still was. Again she had an elegance the younger ones carried, where you could smell she wasn’t short of money.
But Estella was different.
Her voice wavered from posh to cockney, depending what she was talking about. It was obvious she had done well in life from either marrying or due to her success.
Her teeth were evenly veneered and her skin incredibly smooth.
‘I’m Ingrid,’ the auburn haired beauty said. ‘I always wanted to learn to tap and meet new people.’ She grinned and he was immediately attracted to her. ‘I really love it.’
Ingrid’s eyes were a sparkling green and she was absolutely gorgeous. There wasn’t a wedding ring on her finger but a large yellow diamond. He wondered if she was engaged and her partner was the man giving her a hard time.
‘I’m Angela,’ the brunette then said with light brown eyes. She had high cheek bones and very red cheeks, her skin the colour of porcelain compared to Ingrid who looked like she enjoyed a fake tan now and again. ‘I’m a freelance interior designer and I used to tap when I was little. I decided it was time to take it up again.’
This one was clearly wearing a large eternity ring along with a thick wedding band.
‘Well, you know a bit about me,’ Stuart said, grinning. ‘I started tap dancing again after my wife, Belinda, died a few years back. Keeps the old brain ticking, that’s what I say.’
‘My name is Alexandra,’ said the woman, who he now knew to be an actress, her long wild mousy brown hair falling out of her clip. She was voluptuous and sat up straight. Her overall appearance was a little dishevelled. ‘I tread the boards, as you might have heard, and I need to know how to tap for a small piece I have to do as part of the tour. People think all actresses can dance but that’s not necessarily true.’
‘Vanessa’s my name and I used to be a nurse in the olden days,’ the lady said, sipping her tea, her grey hair quite short. She was tall and seemed very sprightly. Her blue eyes still had a sparkle but her skin was covered in lines from over exposure to the sun. ‘I need something to do so I come here. We get a discount you see. I love tap but it plays havoc on my knees.’
‘Considering you’re nearly one hundred, you’re doing well!’ another older lady laughed out. Vanessa playfully hit her with a napkin. ‘I’m Vanessa’s sister, Glenda. She forced me to come along because she didn’t want to attend alone.’
This was the lady who was going to Lake Como and spoke in a much clipped, posher English than her older sister. Kit thought Glenda had married well, that was what the difference was. Her hair was dyed dark blonde and she, like Estella, had some work done to her face.
‘I’m Bernadette,’ said the youngest member of the class. She was a young black woman with a very pretty face. Her hair was bright purple and she was wearing green framed glasses. ‘I just wanted to learn how to tap dance and I’m studying drama.’
Then they all looked at the woman in the red top who had a hood pulled up so it covered her eyes.
‘Come on Sasha, it’s your turn!’ laughed out Vanessa. ‘You really are in another world today.’
There was a massive sigh as if she was pissed off with having to speak.
She pulled down her hood and Kit looked at her large brown eyes which had dark rings underneath and a long wavy black plait that fell out to the side. Her skin was light brown but sallow, as if someone covered her in grey powder. The woman was pretty, though she didn’t look in a good state. Kit thought she might be terminally ill so looked away.
‘I’m Sasha and I like tap dancing when my body lets me.’
‘That’s putting it mildly,’ Stuart said into his latte then sniggered.
‘Give her a break,’ hissed Estella before turning to Kit. ‘She has her good days.’
‘When?’ laughed out Stuart.
‘Sometimes,’ mumbled Sasha, pulling her hood up and bowing her head again.
‘Do you think you can remember our names?’ asked Vanessa.
‘I’ll try,’ he fibbed, noticing Estella sympathetically glance at the miserable woman in the red top.
‘So what about you?’ Glenda asked flirtatiously, leaning closer. ‘What’s your background in dance?’
Kit sat there and wondered what he could say.
‘Justin’s my brother and I wanted to learn to dance again. I thought by taking some classes it would give me a focus,’ he said, half smiling at Ingrid then flashing a look towards Angela. ‘I might be a bit rusty at first but I think it’d be fun us all working together. Maybe we could aim to put on a show.’
Kit couldn’t believe he said that.
‘Yvette’s your mother?’ Estella asked, looking confused. ‘You’re certainly nothing like your brother.’
‘Fun?’ laughed out Vanessa. ‘Show? Did you attend the same class as we did this morning? The chances of us doing the ‘Shirley Temple’ and getting it right will take you at least a year. And some of us,’ she said, quickly glancing over at Sasha. ‘It might take a miracle to dance.’
He heard a grunt from Sasha’s direction as Glenda elbowed her sister in the ribs.
‘Maybe I can work miracles.’
‘Doubt it,’ he heard Stuart say before laughing. ‘I take it you don’t work?’
‘I own a small bar locally,’ he mumbled, wondering if he should be telling them all this. ‘I have done for a few years.’
‘You live around here?’ asked Ingrid, smiling at him. He grinned at her before seeing Angela eye her friend suspiciously. ‘Most of us do.’
‘Yeah, so do my family. It’s good to have them close by.�
�
‘Are you married?’ asked Alexandra, sipping her espresso. ‘Any kids?’
‘Why the inquisition, ladies?’ said Estella, shaking her head. ‘It’s as if the poor lad’s your next meal.’ She smiled at him then leaned closer. ‘So are you?’
‘Divorced with one daughter aged nine,’ he said, seeing the ladies look at each other as Stuart shook his head in dismay.
‘They’ll start match making, watch them,’ he hissed. ‘They try it with me all the time.’
‘That’s not fair!’ laughed out Glenda. ‘You’re not exactly the perfect date, are you?’
‘I should know. The little bugger left me half way through a drink,’ laughed out Vanessa, winking at Stuart. ‘Got scared.’
‘I wasn’t scared,’ replied Stuart, getting agitated. ‘But you were a little full on trying to squeeze my thigh in public.’
‘Oh the horror!’ laughed out Vanessa.
All the ladies started to laugh as Stuart grinned.
‘And what about all of you? Married with families?’ he asked, looking around the group.
‘I expect by Christmas you’ll know a lot more about us and us about you,’ sighed Estella, glancing at Sasha sitting in the corner. ‘Or not.’
‘And how come you’ve decided to turn into Fred Astaire?’
… asked Sean while they stocked up the bar on Thursday evening. ‘I thought you said you’d never do it again after all the teasing you got at school.’
‘I need a hobby,’ he said, knowing it wasn’t good to lie to one of his closest friends.
Kit shuddered when he thought about the reality of what he was taking part in.
The group seemed nice, give or take one or two.
If Ingrid or Angela were the intended ‘target’ obviously they would be scared.
He felt sick at the thought they might think he was some sort of villain.
Kit knew he’d have to play it carefully, getting friendly with all the group and seeing how much information he could get from them.
The next lesson was later on that morning and he wasn’t quite sure what he felt.
He’d spent a restless night in bed, tossing and turning, thinking about what he had to do. Then he remembered what happened with Kristin and something plummeted so hard in his gut. It was a physical pain.
This wasn’t how he wanted to spend the rest of his life, alone. He knew the words of Justin rang true in his ears. If he found someone then all his problems, physical, mental and emotional, might go away.
‘You’re thinking again,’ Sean said, grinning at him as they stood behind the bar. ‘And we know that’s not one of your strong points.’
His friend was a little bit taller than him with light caramel skin. He was mixed race, his mother English and his father from Antigua. They had known each other since they were at school and Sean had stuck with him through thick and thin.
When Kit was as his lowest ebb, due to the drugs and Kristin, it was Sean who arranged for him to go into rehabilitation with the help of Justin and Yvette.
Whereas Kristin didn’t seem to care.
In appreciation for his friend’s help and love, he gave him twenty percent of the bar, knowing it would make him focus on the business. He didn’t want to let his mate down.
And Sean had a young family of his own, two daughters around the same age as Grace, with his long-time girlfriend, Cherise. They were happy in their little flat in Shepherds Bush.
Kit envied his friend’s domestic set up. Often Grace and he would visit their home, just so he could taste family life once more.
He realised he never got close to it with Kristin.
It was all pretend.
‘Stop it,’ Sean said, grabbing his shoulders, making Kit jump. ‘You’re thinking about it and you know it’s not good.’
‘How can you tell?’ he replied, pulling away.
‘Your face says it all.’ Sean leaned against the bar and frowned. ‘What was that dick Tooley doing in here a few weeks back? Since then you’ve been acting a little bit strange.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Like something’s on your mind?’ his friend pried. ‘Want to share?’
‘It’s just Peter, being Peter,’ he shrugged, knowing he couldn’t say anything.
Then he heard someone knock on the door.
‘We’re closed!’ shouted out Sean before walking from behind the bar and down to the cellar.
‘It’s Ryan!’ the voice bellowed back.
Kit did a double take and hurriedly let him in.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, ushering the man towards a corner of the bar. ‘I don’t want anyone else getting involved and my partner is here.’
‘What? Girlfriend?’
‘No, business partner.’
‘Who’s this?’ asked Sean, startling Kit.
‘He’s a friend of Justin’s,’ was the only reply he could think of. ‘Ryan.’
‘I’ve never seen you before,’ scowled his friend, looking at the guy up and down. ‘Are you a dancer?’
‘Me? No! Just an acquaintance.’ Ryan turned to Kit. ‘Look, I popped in on the off chance. Captain asked me to check you were free on Saturday. He needs to talk to you about some more information he’s picked up.’
‘Why can’t he come and see me? Why send you?’ asked Kit, seeing Sean eye the man with deep suspicion.
‘He’s otherwise detained and wanted me to check with you.’ Ryan’s eyes darted around the bar. ‘Looks like a good place. I’ll see my own way out.’
Kit followed him to the door as the taller man turned.
‘What information?’ whispered Kit. ‘I thought we knew everything.’
‘Just what you need to do.’
‘Me?’
‘You’re the person the client’s relying on. Captain will explain.’
He walked out of the bar and Kit stood holding the door open.
‘Who is he?’ asked Sean, walking up behind him. ‘Have you got yourself into some kind of trouble?’
‘Tooley has got me into some shit and I can’t get out of it. Nothing serious,’ he said, trying to avoid eye contact. ‘And I have to help as I have no choice.’
‘Don’t go getting involved in drugs,’ hissed Sean. ‘Do you hear me? I wouldn’t put it past that little bastard to try and stitch you up.’
‘That he has managed to do already.’
‘You seem to be getting the hang of it,’
… Ingrid said, after Kit started taking the lessons. ‘Are you going to teach us new dance moves?’
‘I thought a Christmas number might be appropriate,’ he laughed out.
He’d worked his magic on most of the class, talking and flirting, something he could do easily as it was part of his job. The only one who didn’t say much was the woman in the red hoodie, Sasha. Even managing to get a smile out of her was hard going.
It was towards the end of the lesson and they were all free styling, some better than others. Estella, Vanessa and Glenda were laughing at the dance moves, especially as they were asked to spread their arms and do a turn. Stuart was simply gliding into it with Ingrid and Angela. Bernadette was just giggling at the ladies and not doing anything. Sasha seemed to be hobbling at the other end, begrudgingly swivelling on the balls of her feet.
Kit wondered what she was doing there as she made no effort to even try to follow any of the routines.
He had been drilled twice by Captain about the plan and both he and Ryan had asked him who they thought it was. Kit believed they were toying with him and knew. The men seemed very convincing when they told him they had no idea.
In a strange sort of way, the whole situation was exciting, giving him a focus.
Also, it was perfect for him and Grace to spend more time together, trying to do lessons with Justin. He had forgotten how his brother could be a tyrant in the classroom.
Ingrid flashed him another bright smile. She’d asked him to go for lunch after the previous Friday l
esson so they could chat some more. He knew she fancied him and it was mutual.
The only good thing about it was that he couldn’t take it further.
It was his comfort blanket that he wouldn’t be put into an embarrassing situation, if it ever did happen.
He simply wasn’t allowed to get physical under strict instructions.
The man couldn’t even if he tried.
Kit still hadn’t learned too much about the people in his dance class. Stuart filled him in, as best he could, but they rarely talked about their other halves, just deciding to tear to pieces most men in general. They were funny with it, mainly at the expense of Stuart, who they were intent on fixing up.
‘Come on let’s give ourselves a round of applause!’ said Kit loudly, clapping hard.
‘I only come here to look at you,’ laughed out Vanessa. ‘You’re nice eye candy for an old lady with cataracts.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with your eyes,’ Glenda groaned loudly, shaking her head. ‘Though she does have a point.’
Ingrid blushed as Angela grinned at him. He had kept the meetings with them discreet.
To date he’d found out that Ingrid was engaged to someone who ran his own business but things weren’t going to plan. She said he was often possessive but she didn’t know what to do. Kit got the impression she was waiting for a knight in shining armour.
Angela seemed happy enough with her relationship though her husband was often away on business.
Either way, he’d struck up a friendship with them.
Getting his things and having a quick chat with Justin, who still thought his brother giving lessons was hysterical, he realised that he’d left his tap shoes in the studio.
He rushed up the steps and stopped in his tracks when he looked through the door.
Sasha was pirouetting on one leg, again and again.
This was the first time he’d seen her do something constructive. From the look of it she knew how to dance, just by how she was holding herself. Suddenly she glided around the room, swivelled and stopped, pulling down her hood.
This confused him. He stood to the side and noticed she looked at herself in the mirror, examining her reflection before shaking her head in dismay.