by Lucy Dillon
Peggy sighed. ‘Baxter’s a popular man, I must say.’
Chloe and Trina didn’t bother to disguise their gawps.
But Angelica’s mood had changed again, for the better, and she swung back into her teaching mode. ‘Now, let’s stay with the social foxtrot, but this time we’re going to learn a new promenade step, so concentrate, please, Christopher! I don’t want you lot showing me up at the social. Ross? Would you mind demonstrating with me, please?’
She held out her arms as Ross walked into the middle of the room.
Angelica tutted and wagged her finger at him. ‘Now, what did I say about smartness being the first rule of ballroom? Tuck that shirt in, you scruff! Do you think Gene Kelly left his shirt untucked? Or Bruce Forsyth? And for crying out loud, would you stand up straight? You’re too young for a stoop.’
Ross grinned sheepishly as he pushed his shirt into the back of his jeans, and stood up straight, pulling his shoulders back at the same time, under Angelica’s watchful eye.
‘There! That’s much better,’ she said approvingly.
Jo nudged Katie. ‘Nice arse!’ she stage-whispered.
Katie was about to demur, but actually, yes, she thought, with a flicker of surprise, Ross does have quite a nice arse. She never really noticed it, what with his baggy T-shirts normally covering it up, but there it was, quite pert in his jeans, at the top of his long legs.
A warm flower of approval began to open in her chest, and bloomed as Angelica began demonstrating the new step, and Ross fell in with her, instinctively moving alongside, his back straight and his head relaxed, as if he wasn’t even concentrating. His steps had a little bounce to them.
Ross looks like he knows what he’s doing, thought Katie, taken aback by the sudden rush of attraction she felt towards him. He’s got confidence. He’s not whingeing. He’s in charge.
Angelica and Ross danced the basic foxtrot steps as she talked, then turned so their hips were facing outwards.
‘This is how you can talk to your partner and have a look around at who you can line up for the next song at the same time,’ she said, as their feet neatly slid in unison then crossed and, for the first time, the dance started to look a little like the floating elegance of the version Katie had seen on television. Ross sailed along next to her, bemused by his own sudden shift into Fred Astaire mode.
‘God,’ breathed Lauren. ‘That looks really pro.’ She cast a glance at Chris, and Katie saw a flicker of despair in her eyes.
She wondered if Ross felt that when she muffed the new steps. Some people were just better at this than others. Jo had picked up the cha-cha in half a song.
No, she thought, determined. I’m going to master this. I’m going to make Ross look as good as that when he’s dancing with me.
‘Have a go?’ said Ross, returning to her, with his arms outstretched.
Katie pulled a smile on her face, against the disappointment to come.
Ross began to guide her through the promenade with the same patient manner he used when he tried to teach Hannah how to tell the time, or tie her shoes. But Katie couldn’t stop herself thinking that he was probably wishing he could stay dancing with Jo, her heaving bosoms and her quick way with new steps.
In the lobby after class, Lauren plonked herself down on the plastic chairs next to Katie to change out of the wedding shoes she practised in. They were stiff oyster satin, and looked agony to Katie, but Lauren seemed determined to break them in.
‘Oooh!’ she said, easing the right one off with a pretend grimace. ‘The things we do for fashion, eh? I can’t feel my toes!’
‘Doesn’t stop you dancing like you do,’ Katie said. ‘I couldn’t tell you were in agony – you look like you’ve been doing it for years.’
‘Really?’ Lauren seemed surprised, then blushed pink with pleasure. ‘Thanks!’
Katie smiled back. Lauren was really easy to talk to. ‘How are you picking it up so quickly? Have you done this before?’
Lauren giggled, showing her square white teeth. ‘God, no! Don’t be daft!’
‘You’re a natural, then,’ said Katie. ‘You look really elegant when you’re dancing.’
‘Aw, thank you,’ she said. ‘No one’s ever accused me of being elegant before.’
It was a nice way of saying, how the hell did that happen, thought Katie, relieved it hadn’t come out wrong. Something magical happened to Lauren when the music started; she went from lanky carthorse to graceful swan, absorbing every new instruction Angelica shouted, holding herself differently – it was incredible. In complete contrast, Chris, so confident when he walked in, still flustered and stumbled, even when Angelica took pity on him and tried to guide him through the steps.
Katie wondered if Lauren realised how well she was doing. Her pretty face seemed swamped with frustration quite a lot.
‘Oh my God!’ Lauren said, conversationally, as she peeled off the other shoe to reveal several protective surgical plasters. ‘My feet are in rags. Anyway, what did you think about that telling off? I haven’t been yelled at like that since I was at school!’
‘Yes, well. It’s easy for her to say we should be practising – what else has she got to do? It’s her job.’ Katie stuffed her shoes in her bag and pulled on her coat. Half of her was pleased Lauren wanted to chat, but she also itched to get back home. Jo’s mum Dorothy was round at their house looking after all the kids again, but she wanted to be there in case Jack woke up, and she wasn’t there to settle him down.
She looked over towards Ross to see if he was ready, but he was talking to Jo about playgroup collecting rotas, and Greg had rushed outside to take yet another phone call. Katie wondered if Ross would be telling Jo about Hannah’s strop earlier, when she’d refused to touch her tea until he agreed to put on her Angelina Ballerina DVD while they ate. Hannah had really got into dancing. Something else she and her daddy had to share.
Would Ross tell her the bit about him wimping out so she had to police the naughty step, she wondered tartly, as Jo laughed at something Ross said and batted him on the arm. Probably not. Molly probably didn’t need the naughty step.
‘What was all that about, do you reckon?’ Lauren went on.
‘What was what about?’
Lauren nodded conspiratorially. ‘The mood swings. Didn’t you notice? She was fine when we came in, then suddenly went mardy. It’s the change probably. I did notice she made another appointment with Dr Carthy this morning.’ She stopped herself abruptly and looked pained. ‘Oops, forget I said that.’
‘You reckon?’ said Katie, intrigued despite herself. Angelica in the surgery? It was hard to imagine her existing outside the Memorial Hall, going shopping, having a life.
‘Well, she’s about that age . . .’ Lauren mused, then clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Oh! Sugar! Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. So, are you two going to go to this thing on Friday?’ she went on. She had a puppyish way of gossiping, as if they’d known each other for ages, rather than the three classes they’d been to. She was, Katie thought, the sort of girl who never had any trouble making friends on the first day at school. ‘Pleeeease say you are!’
‘It’s rather short notice,’ said Katie, automatically. ‘When you’ve got kids, you can’t just make sudden plans like that . . .’
‘Yeah, I think we’ll go!’ said Ross. ‘Save you and Jo having to slave over supper on At Home Fridays, eh?’ He and Jo had evidently finished their discussion and had wandered back to the chairs. Jo was looking pink and happy after her exertions, and she fanned herself with a plump hand, jangling her silver bracelets.
‘Who needs aerobics, eh?’ she said to Lauren. ‘I can’t remember the last time Greg and I worked up such a sweat! Well, not in public, anyway!’
‘How old’s Rowan again?’ Ross enquired.
Lauren giggled.
Katie pulled a face she hoped Lauren couldn’t see. ‘It’s the day after tomorrow, Ross. Where are you going to get a babysitter from, at short notice?’
‘Oh, I’ll find a babysitter,’ interjected Jo, happily. ‘There are some girls at the nursery who are always looking for a bit of extra pocket money.’ She waved an easy hand. ‘Drop yours off at ours – tell Hannah she can sleep in the princess bed.’
Katie wavered. ‘If you’re sure . . .’
‘Course.’ Jo smiled. ‘It’s great to get out.’ She shook her shoulders, making her hair bounce. ‘I’ll be doing that cha-cha in my head all night now. Greg and I need to get into the habit of spending time together – you know how the kids can just eat up every second of the day! I love them, but it’s good to remember what life was like when it was just us.’ She nudged Katie. ‘Remember that?’
‘Not really.’
‘I reckon the secret is to get the men into it,’ said Jo. ‘And if that means buying a few foxy dresses, so much the better. Eh, Lauren? Any excuse for a shop!’
‘I hope you lot are going to come,’ said Lauren, casting a baleful look towards the other end of the room, where a loud clanking of antique plumbing announced that Chris was about to emerge from the chilly loo. ‘I need to persuade Chris that it’s not just men like Baxter who can dance.’
‘Men like Baxter meaning?’ said Ross, hooking his eyebrow.
‘You know, short men in pink sweaters. Men who need something else to offer a girl.’ Lauren pressed her lips together. ‘Men who dance with their noses level with your cleavage. If you’re a decent-sized girl in high heels.’
‘Have you danced with Baxter yet?’ asked Jo. ‘I did a turn with him tonight and, ladies, he is a revelation. He made my feet do things my legs didn’t even know about.’
‘Really?’ demanded Katie and Lauren. Baxter had insisted on showing Jo how to ‘improve’ the basic cha-cha steps they’d started, leaving Greg to dance with Peggy and her twinset.
Jo winked. ‘Didn’t you see me wiggling around like my knees were double-jointed? Looking pretty Strictly Come Dancing, wasn’t I? He’s got a way of placing his hands just so.’ And she did a little shimmy to demonstrate, twitching her rounded hips in panic as if a bee was trying to land on them.
Ross laughed and Katie had to smile at Jo’s easy self-deprecation.
‘Well, that’s something to look forward to,’ Lauren said. ‘Anyway, you two were very good.’ She nodded towards Jo and Ross.
‘Ah, well, I should let you into a secret,’ said Jo, lowering her voice. ‘We’ve practised.’
‘What?’ said Lauren.
‘Ross here’s got a DVD,’ said Jo in a dramatic whisper. ‘And I’ve been round to his house to practise!’
‘While the wife’s at work!’ hooted Ross, rolling his eyes stagily.
‘Really?’ said Katie, but Lauren obviously didn’t catch the slightly steely note in her voice.
‘Oh, you lot so have to come on Friday,’ Lauren insisted, nudging Katie happily.
‘Yeah,’ said Ross, ‘we’ll work something out, even if we just come for an hour or two. Angelica’s got a point about not learning unless you go for it properly.’
‘In that case, Chris and I should be doing three hours a day,’ sighed Lauren.
Katie made a sympathetic face. ‘Have you two got a date to aim at for your big waltz number?’
‘Yeah, June the tenth,’ said Lauren. ‘Mum’s about to book the caterers. But we need the practice. To be honest, I’m not totally sure I can persuade Chris to come, though.’ Her sunny expression faded. ‘Most nights he seems to be out with Kian.’
The way she said Kian told Katie exactly what the problem was. That was one good thing about Ross, he didn’t spend every evening down the pub. Neither of them got to have a social life.
‘Well, tell Kian to come along. Isn’t that what Trina and Chloe are here for – single blokes?’ she suggested.
‘Exactly! I’ll have to check with Greg, but count me in, definitely . . .’ said Jo, as her gaze went towards the door, then returned when there was still no sign of Greg’s suited figure. ‘It’s nice to get out and mingle with real live adults, isn’t it, Ross?’
‘God, yes,’ agreed Ross. ‘When you’ve had a long day pretending to be a horse, it’s good to remember you’re also a human being.’
‘Give over! You’re a sexy young dad!’ exclaimed Lauren. ‘And mum,’ she added quickly, for Katie’s benefit.
Katie gave him a look, and wished he wouldn’t keep making out he was some kind of nursery slave. Didn’t he ever stop to think that maybe if he could rouse himself to get some part-time work, she wouldn’t have to work full time?
She bit her tongue. It sounds so petty, she told herself. But petty or not, it was all she could think at that moment. Think, but not say. Don’t say anything.
‘Course we’ll come,’ Katie heard her voice saying brightly, and the relieved expression on Lauren’s open face was an unexpected bonus.
Ross too also looked rather surprised, but she wasn’t looking at him, so she missed it.
14
Katie did her best to leave the office at five-thirty on Friday, but as usual, work got in the way. Her genuine intentions to look into the High Street’s dress shops came to nothing as her morning meeting over-ran, and then Eddie Harding ‘dropped in for a head-to-head’. When it came to creeping up to the various lawyers and architects, while leaving a discernible trace of grease and slime around the office itself, Eddie was like a de-shelled snail. But for the moment, he was her boss, and so she had to talk to him until five fifty-five, resenting every extra minute.
She rushed into the big supermarket on the way back to pick up coloured pens and other bribes to stop Hannah being difficult with the babysitter, then got a call from Ross to remind her that they were out of loo roll, so she had to rush back in, then finally Katie drove home, stabbing her finger at the radio buttons all the way, to try to find music that would put her in a sweeter mood. It was hopeless. She was wound tight with tension, and every train of thought that set off in her head reminded her of another reason to be stressed.
Inside was the usual chaos – unspecific thumping, the smell of burned toast, toy fragments scattered around – and she felt her heart sink as the front door caught on a baby trike left propped up against the hall wall.
‘I’m back!’ she yelled over the noise. ‘Mummy’s home!’
No one ran to greet her. She gave them a couple of hopeful seconds, wishing as usual that somehow Hannah and Jack would appear in spotless pyjamas and adoring expressions, followed by Ross in a Paul Smith suit and fresh haircut, but all she heard was the sound of Latin American music from the sitting room. It sounded like her Carlos Santana CD – the one Ross thought was naff.
‘Hi, Mummy!’ she said aloud to herself. ‘Hurray! You’re back! We missed you!’
Katie dumped her briefcase in the hall, and pushed open the sitting-room door. Ross was shuffling around, holding hands with Hannah, in a height pairing that made Baxter and Lauren look ideally matched. Both of them were wearing dressing-up clothes and smears of make-up, and Jack was sitting in his beanbag chair, giggling and brandishing Hannah’s fairy wand.
‘Hello, Mummy!’ cried Ross, waving his hands at her in time with the guitar solo. ‘We’re practising our cha-cha! Oi! Hannah? Hello, Mummy!’
Hannah looked peeved.
‘Can Mummy join in?’ asked Katie with a big smile. She shimmied over to the middle of the room. ‘Mummy’s quite good at this one. Shall we dance, Daddy?’
It was for Hannah’s benefit more than anything, to show her that Mummy and Daddy still loved each other, despite the shouting, but Katie was surprised how easily she and Ross got into the dancing hold now. It felt nice. Peter was right. They’d learned something together.
His eyes twinkled at her as if they had a shared joke, while they both counted under their breath to start at the right time.
‘Don’t show me up in front of Hannah. She’s very demanding. And, one, back rock, cha-cha-cha, forward rock, cha-cha-cha . . .’ said Ross, guiding her backwards, his knees ben
ding easily where hers were rigid with self-consciousness, even here, even in her home.
‘Oh . . . I still can’t get it right,’ groaned Katie as she stumbled, and would have stopped right there, if Ross hadn’t said, ‘No, no, no, keep going, at least until the guitar solo . . .’ and pushed her on.
‘See, Hannah?’ he said, over his shoulder. ‘Isn’t Mummy a good dancer?’
‘No,’ said Hannah. ‘She’s not as good as you.’ She gave Katie a furious look and ran out of the room. They heard her feet scuttle up the stairs to her room.
Suddenly Katie didn’t feel angry any more. She just felt weary. How did you explain to a four-year-old that the reason you weren’t there to dance during the day wasn’t because you didn’t love her, but because you loved her so much you wanted her to have everything you could possibly get?
‘It’s that time of day,’ sighed Ross, preparing to pursue Hannah. ‘Sorry. That was uncalled-for.’
‘No, I’ll go. Let me just give Jack a cuddle.’ Katie went over to Jack and lifted him out of the beanbag chair, bouncing him in her arms to make him laugh. ‘Hello, little man! Hello! Have you missed me? I’ve missed you!’ She gave him a tentative sniff. ‘Is Jack bathed?’
‘We’re dropping them at Jo’s on the way. Katie?’
‘What?’ She turned.
Ross looked tired, and with a thick stripe of blue eyeshadow on his cheek and a string of Katie’s plastic beads round his neck, rather camp. But there was something about his scrawny, long-muscled arms sticking out from under his T-shirt that stirred up an old memory in Katie. A warm one. Added to the memory of his ‘nice arse’ on Wednesday night, she could feel something stirring for the first time in ages.
‘I want to book you for the cha-cha this evening,’ he said, wagging his finger. ‘Your card’s marked.’