Dare to Love (11 page)

I decide to make my move quick. If it’s a no go area it leave me time to focus somewhere else. Though from what I can see, anything else tonight will be second best. I put down my drink and tell the guy I going to try my luck. She have her back to me so don’t see me coming. I lean over, put out my hand and say, ‘Can I have this dance?’ I hold my breath. She look up into my face then look at her friends. I’m hoping she not one of those women who won’t dance with a man unless her friends like him. I still holding out my hand, still holding my breath. The one with the strapless dress wave her hand like she telling her to go on. She look back in my face.

‘I don’t know how to,’ she start to say, but her friend say, ‘Go on!’ and do that wave again.

‘OK.’

She take my hand and stand up slowly. As I lead her to the dance floor, she look back at her friends as if to say, ‘You sure this OK?’

On the floor I take her other hand and spin her round to face me. Soft uncertain hands. There’s a lot I take in about a woman in a short space of time. Her braids frame her face and hang down under her chin. She have a oval shape face and oval shaped eyes, hardly any lashes, and perfectly shaped arched eyebrows; a little round nose and lips like Jeanette’s. She look a little uncomfortable, a little stiff.

I lean forward. ‘I’m Grant,’ I say close to her ear. I find it helps to introduce myself early, put women at ease, at least they know who they talking to and have a name if anything go wrong later. They usually feel obliged to tell me theirs. Of course there’s always one or two exceptions.

‘I’m Joosee,’ she say, ‘and I can’t do this ballroom thing.’

‘That’s OK.’ I try to put her at ease. Maybe that’s why she feeling tense. ‘We don’t have to do what they doing. Just follow me. You’ll be fine.’

I start with some basic steps, keep it really simple. I feel her relaxing. I love playing teacher. They usually stay for more than one dance if they learn a few steps in the first one. I look at her shoes and figure she’ll need to sit down after two or three dances, women in them high heels can’t dance for long.

‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ I say at the end of the dance. I keep hold of her hands, let her know I want the next one.

‘No, I enjoyed it.’

‘Because you relax,’ I say quick because I feel her tensing again.

The other track starting. I let one of her hands go and slide my hand to her back. She don’t resist. Begin to flow with me.

‘Where did you learn to dance like this?’

‘My mother taught me.’

‘Is she a dance teacher?’

‘No.’

‘So how did she…’

‘When she was learning she needed someone to practice with. I didn’t mind. So I learned the moves.’

‘And very well you do them, if you don’t mind me saying so.’

‘You English, right?’

‘How did you guess?’

‘Your accent.’

‘Spot on.’ I can feel her smile even though I can’t see it. Is she laughing at me? I step back so I can see her face. She smile at me, soft lips part, show me nice even teeth. I just meet this woman but I want to kiss her lips, want to taste her teeth, want to feel her body close to mine, want to wipe the sadness out of her eyes that’s there even when she smile.

I feel my cock stirring, waking up. It’s a good thing I’m wearing proper underpants; boxers would be giving me away big time. I’ll bring her in close next song.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be taking a break here to listen to the karaoke finalists. We’ll be back later for more dancing. In the meantime, enjoy the show.’

The lights come on, people leave the floor. I’m so mad at the DJ. I’m still holding her hand, don’t want to let her go. How can he do this now? She wriggle her hand like she reminding me I’m still holding her. She look a little embarrassed so I let go.

‘Why don’t you come and find me later?’ she say, already walking back to her friends.

I can’t stand karaoke. I go outside to make a couple calls. One to my friend to let him know I’m not going to make it to play pool, the other to Mel to let her know I’m down The Plantation. Not to wait up because I might be late.

‘You want me to come down?’ She don’t realise that is partly she I need to get away from.

‘No, I just want to hang out tonight.’ I sit in my car and listen to some reggae and try to reason with myself. Tell myself it’s the stress why I just meet a woman and want to kiss her. Maybe I should leave now, go and play my stress out somewhere else. But I know I’m going back in there, soon as the karaoke finish.

I misjudge the time because when I go back she on the floor with another man dancing to a calypso song. I find my seat at the bar. ‘Look like you miss you chance there,’ my ex-employee say. ‘Pity, the woman move like a snake.’

I watch her skirt flick from side to side, like she don’t have any solid bones in her hips. She doing something slow and sexy with her hands. The man right. She moving like a snake for true. The man she dancing with, about forty, six foot, short hair, stripe shirt and white pants loving it. He staying there for the next one, she letting him. I almost convince myself to walk away. I don’t need any more complication in my life.

‘Pity,’ my drinking mate says again. It’s like a little voice in my head say ‘fight for her.’

For what, for a few dances, for a little escape for a night? But the voice still there. ‘Fight for her.’ I drain my glass and say to the man. ‘The night no done yet.’

I go on the floor and make sure she see me. I dance close by her. Her friends on the floor too, dancing with other men. She smile at me but keep dancing with the man. Next dance I move a little closer. Let her know I would like a dance but I don’t want to move in because that might be her man. I have to let her show me she want to dance. I keep smiling at her. At the end of the second dance I hold my hand out to her in a way that she can ignore or step to me if she want. She look me straight in the eye, part those lips again and step to me.

All her shyness gone. She lively, teasing, really into the music, She’s a little wild, not the way some people from England get, arms and legs all over the place. She really feeling the music. A slow track come on, I pull her in gently, my hand in the small of her back, she step easily into me. I’m not one of those men who start whine up on a woman as soon as they start to dance, like they trying to get everything before the three minutes up. Most time it put the woman off and she don’t want to dance with them again. Too familiar too soon. I always start with a gentle sway, a few steps if she know them. If she don’t resist I start to probe with my hips. Next I slide my crotch across her front, all the time I check for her reaction to see how far I can go. It can take two or three dances before I get to that stage. If I get there, it worth the wait.

Once in a while I find a woman that ‘fit’ me, can sense and respond to my moves. When I rock forward she lean back, when I dip she dip with me, when I slide she slide with me. When that happen I get rock hard. I’m rock hard now.

I want to know more about her but she more interested in dancing than talking. She here from England for three weeks on holiday. She here tonight with her friends. I don’t know if she mean just at The Plantation or on holiday. Her friends sound Bajan so she probably mean the nightclub.

I play with her wedding ring when the DJ play “Wok Up Pon Me” but she don’t say anything about it. For true the song might have been written about her. I see her friends pointing and laughing, but she don’t notice. She lost in the dance and she dancing with the same hip movement I was watching before.

She can make her hips move separately of the rest of her body. Circle them left, circle them right. She hot and wet with sweat but she don’t leave the floor for a sit down. She on those shoes all night. She apologise, say it’s really hot but she came out to dance. I don’t mind. I’m hot and wet too. I don’t leave in case somebody else try to muscle in.

One song she stand in front of me, make big circles with her hips, then with her belly, her breasts, and her head, then she do it the opposite way. It’s like I’m watching a giant corkscrew, winding up and winding down. I can’t take my eyes off her and neither can half the men in the room. I’m sure I’m not the only one hard.

She can feel my hard on when we dance close. She know I want her. She pull me into her smile, pull me right into her eyes. She say, ‘I want you’ in little ways people can’t see. She slide her breasts across my chest, squeeze my hands tight, stroke my fingers, breathe hot breaths in my ear. I’m lost in all this when the house lights go on.

I’m shocked. It just feel like half an hour we dancing yet three hours pass. Her friends waiting for her. She whisper, ‘Thank you,’ in my ear and start to walk away. Shoot, she can’t just walk away like that.

‘Can I see you again?’ I don’t want to sound too eager, but I think I do.

She don’t answer, just smile.

‘Do you have a phone number here?’

The sweat on her skin in the light look like she rub down in baby oil. She shining. If she was wearing make-up it all wash off. I have to see her again. She look into my eyes, like she trying to make her mind up.

‘Give me your number.’

There’s just the two of us on the dance floor, everyone else leave. Her friends waiting by the door for her. She look up and they wave at her. That code women have. ‘We’re here if you have trouble getting rid of him.’ We don’t have pen or paper. ‘It’s 249 65…’

‘I’m not going to remember it,’ she cut in.

‘How you getting home? I think I have a pen in the car.’

‘My friends drove here tonight. I think they’re a little impatient. I need to go.’

Then I remember I have some business cards in my pocket. I still forget I have them sometime. I hold back a little because the cards have on my address, but is a gamble I have to take. If she find out about Mel I lose, but if I don’t give her the card I lose anyway. At least this way I have a chance. I give her the card. She drop it in her little black bag.

‘When you going to call?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Call me please!’ I almost sound desperate.

‘If I say I will, I will.’

She walk toward her friends, legs straight, head high, skirt swishing. I watch her and my hard on get stiffer.

Josi

I sleep for ten hours. Celia says she kept popping back to check if I was OK, that I
hadn’t died of alcohol poisoning. Whether it was the unburdening or the long sleep or a combination of the two, I feel much calmer when I wake up. That old adage “a problem shared is a problem halved” seems to be working in this case. I feel lighter, like someone’s removed the heavy padding from around my internal organs, siphoned off some of the lead from my veins. My head feels clearer, like it’s had a power vacuum.

‘Fancy some more dancing tonight?’ she asks after we eat a very late lunch in one of the French style cafés in Holetown.

‘Where?’ I ask hesitantly. I don’t want to be anywhere near Oistens tonight, not after my display last night.

‘You don’t have to go if you don’t feel up to it,’ she reassures me quickly.

‘Where’re you thinking of going?’

‘Robina thinks you should see The Plantation.’

‘What kind of place is it?’

‘They play a lot of different kinds of music, something for every one, but tonight it’s old-skool night. There’ll be a lot of big people there.’

‘You mean a lot of old men like the ones last night outside Lexie’s.’

‘Well some,’ she laughs, ‘but not all. It’s a good mix of people, we usually have fun. But you don’t have to go if you don’t feel up to it after last night.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ I grown.

‘I mean last night
after
Oistens. Though I have to say you looking a lot more relaxed today. It was good to let it go.’

‘I feel a thousand times better. You know what?’ I suddenly make a decision. ‘I’ll come. But you have to promise me that if you see me getting wild and crazy you’ll punch me out cold. Don’t let me make a fool of myself like last night.’

‘You know you didn’t make a fool of yourself. From where I was standing you looked pretty good, gave them guys a run for their money.’

‘I notice you didn’t join me though.’

‘Couldn’t compete. You had the floor,’ she laughs.

We stop by Sheraton Mall to find a pair of shoes to go with a little strapless number she intends to wear tonight, and I find a nice little black top to go with a skirt I’m planning to wear.

Dress to dance, Celia says, so I do. Little grey skirt and the black top. Killer heels. I let my hair hang loose. Robina’s in white trousers and pink top. I envy her figure. Celia’s new gold shoes work well with the natty little strapless dress. Envy her figure too.

The Plantation’s a huge cabaret club. All the white clothed tables at the front of the stage are taken even though it’s barely ten o’clock. Robina suggests we find a table before thinking about drinks. We try a few for views then settle on one second row in from the stage. I look around. There’s a bar to my right with a few stools, a couple of people are sitting at them, to the right of the bar is another high seating area. The tables are filling up fast.

Couples are on the floor doing that old ballroom stuff, older looking people; forties, fifties, older. They’re even more adept than the ones at Oistens. I can’t take my eyes off one couple who glide across the floor like ghosts floating through a world of their own.