The Beautiful Fall
Page 23
The music pulsed and we flowed with it, our movements locked in time. The future faded into irrelevance and there was only the dance. When our bodies touched and brushed and held, something new appeared in Julie’s eyes. Wonder; disbelief at what I could do—what we could do.
My arm stretched out and Julie’s hand met it, fingers wrapping around wrists. Her other arm stretched high, her body buoyed by my strength. Then she twisted, and her hand became a fist, plummeting downwards. My muscles screamed as I halted her plunge, just in time for her knuckles to kiss the floor.
There it was. The moment when it would begin.
The beautiful fall.
A new partner seemed to join us in the dance. I felt I could almost see the dominoes cascading around our every step, and racing ahead with waves and ripples.
When the time came for the next leap, there was no longer any doubt. I could see her movement before it happened. I could feel the impact bunting me backwards and downwards, into a new and perfect path and—
No.
Julie’s knee smashed into my inside thigh and a bolt of pain tore up my leg as my body twisted in mid-air and I tumbled to the floor. She came down on top of me. An audible ohhhh, a sigh of disappointment, sounded from outside the dance floor.
I must have misstepped.
I reached for Julie in sudden panic. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry; are you okay?’
‘Shit.’ Her body shuddered beneath my hands: laughter. ‘Given my bloodstream is ten per cent bourbon, I think we should all be impressed I made it that far.’
She rolled towards me and grabbed a fistful of my shirt at the shoulder, pulling herself into a seating position, her eyes meeting mine.
‘What happened? How did you know about the song?’
I pulled myself upright. Our legs were still half-entwined, our faces close. Under her eyes, heavy shadows and the lines of too much drink. The heat of exertion flushed her cheeks, and a sheen of sweat glistened on her skin. She looked perfect.
‘I found where I’d hidden everything from myself—the music, the shoes—and the dance turned out to be buried in my muscles and my mind, just like you thought. But then I realised it was a duet. Without you, I didn’t know how it finished.’
‘With us going splat on the floor.’ She grinned.
‘I thought if I showed you the dance, you might… see something in me. Something of him, the old Robbie. Your Robbie.’
‘Why do you care what I see? Last time I saw you…’ She shook her head.
‘I was so scared of my love for you. I thought it was a trap, a…a lure that would pull me away from who I am.’ My hand went to her face, brushing her cheek with the back of my fingers. ‘I had it the wrong way round. The only way I have to save myself is to hold on to what I love, and hold it so tight—so hard—that it can remake me. Today and every day.’
‘Hmph.’ She pulled herself up, half-sitting and half-kneeling, and reached for the cord around my neck, clearly visible now that my shirt was shredded. She studied the two rings for a moment, and then turned her gaze to my face.
‘Julie,’ I said. ‘He’s still in here.’
‘No, I don’t see him.’
Her hand reached up to mine, pressing it against her cheek. ‘I see you.’ She pulled my face to hers.
Somewhere outside the footlights, there came a sound like applause. Our kiss broke off, and Julie reached again to the cord where the rings hung.
She smiled, and the cord snapped from my neck.
We ran home, through the streets and through the rain.
Julie said she loved what I’d done with the dominoes, seeing them complete at last, in all their glory and without any of the barriers. She saw straightaway that I’d changed the stepping stones. I’d set them up for the waltz I still owed her from that night at the dance hall.
Right now, she’s getting changed into a white dress I stole from her apartment this morning. I told her it’s important to plan for the possibility everything might go spectacularly well, but she just laughed and called me a stalker.
Soon we will dance, and perhaps I will forget. And if I do, then you will be born into the beauty of this falling world, held in the arms of someone whose love stretches beyond your every horizon.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to all those who helped bring this book to life: Mandy Brett, Dianne Blacklock, Kylie Scott, Kath FitzHywel and Alex Adsett.
Hugh Breakey is an award-winning and widely published philosopher. He has previously worked as a kitchen hand, editor, airport construction worker, theatre director, ethics consultant, pinball repairer, disk jockey, tennis court builder and university lecturer. Hugh lives in rural Australia with his two children and his wife, the New York Times bestselling novelist Kylie Scott. The Beautiful Fall is his first novel.
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Published by The Text Publishing Company, 2021
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ISBN: 9781922330543 (paperback)
ISBN: 9781925923957 (ebook)
A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of Australia.