The Ballroom Class (14 page)

‘Oooh!’ said Trina and Chloe.

Jo shot Katie an amused glance, and said, ‘Oooh!’ too, with a remarkably straight face.

Katie had to look down to stop herself giggling.

Angelica stepped back to her CD player and pressed play. The hall filled up with the big-band sound of Harry Connick Jnr, and Katie recognised the opening bars of ‘It Had To Be You’.

‘Now we’re going to learn a very useful social dance that fits most old songs, it looks very proficient, and it’s very simple. It’s called the social foxtrot, or a crush dance. Now where’s my volunteer?’ She swooped on Frank, with her arms held open, and this time Bridget happily waved them away on to the middle of the floor.

The class watched impressed as Angelica and Frank clasped each other in the ballroom hold, then floated in curving turns from one end of the room to the other, with only a few little bumps and hesitations.

‘Now, the social foxtrot is fabulous for doing when you’ve only got a tiny dancefloor, like at a wedding,’ Angelica called over one shoulder, as they swirled back down the other side of the room. ‘Watch how small we can make this,’ she went on as their steps became compact, and little more than a shuffle.

‘I thought the foxtrot was the quick one where the lady slides round the room backwards like she’s on wheels,’ said Lauren. ‘That’s the one they did on
Strictly Come Dancing
. The one with the dresses with floaty wings.’ She spread her long arms, nearly taking Chris’s eye out.

‘Ah, now that’s different – that’s called the
slow
foxtrot,’ said Angelica, while Frank twirled her round as the instrumental break took over. ‘That’s the one you see in Fred Astaire films. That’s all about syncopation, and
gliding
round the floor as if you’re not touching it, and very, very precise footwork. And it’s
very
difficult, believe me.’

‘We won the Longhampton District Five-Dance Cup nine times,’ said Baxter. ‘Slow foxtrot was our special dance, wasn’t it, Peggy? And our son Ray is also an ex-champion, twice.’

Peggy nodded, her eyes sparkling.

It was hard to imagine Baxter and Peggy as a pint-sized Fred and Ginger, thought Katie, but then maybe that was the transformational power of dance Angelica kept going on about. She thought Baxter looked a bit put out, and wondered why she hadn’t chosen him to demonstrate with. Frank was good, but he wasn’t nearly as slick as Baxter. Baxter moved as if his soles were oiled. Maybe that was the point – maybe she didn’t want to make it look even harder than it was.

‘Really? How marvellous!’ said Angelica.

‘We were in all the papers,’ added Baxter. ‘Two generations of champions, if you will.’

‘Everyone! If you get stuck, just have a look at what Peggy and Baxter are doing,’ said Angelica, good-humouredly, as she returned Frank to Bridget with a little curtsy.

‘Now,’ she went on, ‘that’s how you do it quickly. Now let’s see all that again
very
slowly, shall we?’ Her sharp eyes turned to Katie, Jo, Greg and Ross.

‘Great,’ Katie muttered under her breath towards Jo, bracing herself. ‘This is where she picks on us.’

‘Not you, dear!’ said Angelica. ‘I’ve got my feet to think of. It’s your husband I’m after. If you don’t mind?’ she added, taking Ross’s hand.

Ross smiled as Angelica neatly manoeuvred him into the centre of the hall, and beamed at the class.

‘Ah!’ said Jo, encouragingly. ‘Doesn’t he look like he knows what he’s doing?’

He is such a creep, thought Katie. If he displayed that much enthusiasm at home, we wouldn’t have to be here at all.

‘Now I should tell you that I won’t always allow you to dance with the partner you brought,’ Angelica went on. ‘When you’re let loose onto real dance floors, you’ll be expected to dance with everyone, not just your friends, so you’d better get used to swapping around.’

‘Oooh!’ the single girls cooed, this time with more enthusiasm, and nudging in the direction of Greg and tall, blond Chris.

‘Get ready, Lauren,’ said Trina, winking at Lauren, whose arms had folded automatically over her chest as her fiancé beamed in the spotlight of female attention. ‘You might just get stampeded in the rush, love!’

‘And then they’ll get stampeded by Chris,’ retorted Lauren.

Greg caught Katie’s eye as the class bantered away, and he raised his eyebrows slightly, as if to say, ‘Is it like this every week?’ Katie adjusted her face, and returned the gesture, quite a private one, of shared amusement, and a flutter ran over her skin.

She looked down at the floor, then at Ross, who was remembering to pull his slopey shoulders back now he was dancing with Angelica, and when she glanced back at Greg again, he was murmuring something to Jo, and the amused look had vanished from his face.

Angelica explained the steps, the slows and the quicks, while they copied her. ‘Watch my feet!’ she called out, over the music. ‘We’re going in zig-zags, like the pattern on the floor, can you see?’

To the untrained eye, it looked as if Ross was expertly propelling Angelica. Even he looked surprised.

‘You’re very good at this,’ she added, as they turned slowly. ‘I think you’ve got that!’ She let his hands go, and gave him a little clap. ‘Now, you teach Katie, and I’ll have a look at  . . . Careful, now, Chris! If you drag her she’ll  . . . you see what I mean?’

Ross came back to Katie as Angelica went to disentangle Chris and Lauren. He held out his arms in a stagey dance manner.

‘Don’t,’ said Katie.

‘Don’t what?’

‘Don’t make me feel even more self-conscious than I already am. God, I
hate
not being able to do stuff,’ Katie muttered, trying to keep her grumbling beneath Angelica’s radar. ‘Right, OK, which foot do we start on?’ She stared at her work courts. They needed polishing. Next to her toes were Ross’s Converse All-Stars, which had also seen better days.

‘Stop looking at your feet,’ said Ross. ‘Look at me.’

Reluctantly, Katie looked at Ross. They were standing quite close together, his hand on her shoulder-blade, the other holding hers at shoulder-height, a breath apart. She’d forgotten how near they were in height, especially when she was in heels, and now they were close enough for her to smell the baby powder on him, mixed with his own end-of-the-day smell. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, and the formality of the pose did make her look at him properly.

He needs to do something about his open pores, she thought, at the same time as she realised his brown eyes actually had a ring of amber round the iris.

‘Now take a slow step back,’ said Ross helpfully.

‘When?’

‘When I decide to start. You’re meant to watch my face for clues.’

‘And what if I don’t want to look at you?’ she replied, knowing how childish she sounded. ‘What if I preferred a verbal signal? And why do you have to decide when we start?’

Ross sighed. ‘Fine. You tell me when you’re ready, then we’ll go. Now when I lead you back, I’ll lean into the step and  . . .’

Katie let her hands drop. ‘Lead? Sorry? What?’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Was that what you were watching with Hannah? A teach-yourself-dancing DVD? You were, weren’t you?’

‘Why not?’ Ross looked surprised. ‘I want to be able to do it. I don’t want to let you down.’

‘Well, don’t! That’s not on!’ she spluttered. ‘The whole
point
is that we’re both equally crap! You can’t cheat by getting ahead of me!’

Ross shook his head and stepped away from her. ‘I can’t believe this. Seriously, Katie. What’s wrong with you?’

‘Trouble in paradise?’ Angelica glided up behind them.

‘Oh, great,’ muttered Katie.

‘Now, there’s nothing to it,’ she said, motioning them back into the right hold. ‘Clever girl like you will pick this up in no time, Katie. And  . . .’ She looked at Ross, who stepped forward with a nod. ‘And slow, keep that long step
slow
, Katie, and slow, and together, feet together! Together! You’re not Charlie Chaplin! Now
you
step forward, and  . . .’

‘Ow!’ Katie glared accusingly at Ross as his Converse connected with her toe.

‘You’ve got to let him lead you, Katie,’ said Angelica, but sympathetically this time. ‘No use shoving him around – you can’t see what’s behind you and he can. Here, let me show you.’

She put her hands lightly on Katie’s, holding her as Ross had, and started to move so skilfully that Katie felt herself being gently eased into the right position. Her feet went to the right places without her having to tell them to, and as Angelica spoke the steps aloud, like a patient primary-school teacher, it began to fit together.

Her hands were small, perfectly manicured, no rings, and Katie barely felt their weight at all, expect for the moments when Angelica pressed her very gently to guide her in the right direction. Angelica’s head was about level with her own ear, and Katie could smell her flowery perfume, and the faint cashmere smell of her fitted jumper. Even close up, Angelica’s make-up was flawless: the winged flick of her black eyeliner unwavering, her arched eyebrows plucked to perfection, with only a few papery lines around her eyes betraying a few extra years more than the age Katie would have put her at.

Angelica wasn’t the sort of woman Katie was used to dealing with: neither brisk and business-like, nor mumsy and frazzled. There was a sort of elegant self-possession about her that made Katie wonder, from nowhere, whether she had children. All her attention seemed focused in on herself, her precise movements, her flawless appearance – she had an old-fashioned femininity that made Katie feel even more of a failure in that department.

Angelica caught her looking and she had to glance downwards to avoid the awkwardness of meeting her eye. I wonder if she’s reading me too, she pondered. Katie’s senses were already jangling at the invasion of her personal bubble by this stranger, and she had the irrational sense that Angelica could hear her thoughts, and feel the coolness and desperation between her and Ross, just by putting those little hands on her tense shoulders.

‘No need to get so tense,’ said Angelica unexpectedly. ‘You need to relax more, Katie.’

‘What?’ Katie panicked. She
had
been reading her mind.

‘You’re very wound up, in your shoulders.’ She gave them a demonstrative squeeze, pulling them backwards, and Katie flinched at the touch. Maybe being a dance teacher let you grapple with people unannounced. ‘Don’t worry so much about what you look like. Just  . . . flow.’

‘That’s easy for you to say,’ began Katie, but she realised Angelica had just turned her round a corner.

‘See? Not so hard. Now, you two,’ Angelica said, stepping away. ‘Let me change the music.’

Ross looked expectantly at Katie and held out his hands.

The opening brass flourishes of ‘You Make Me Feel So Young’ shrilled out, bringing everyone else to life, except Katie. Across the room, Frank held out his arms for Lauren to dance with him, while Bridget bravely wrangled Christopher into a starting position.

Even Jo and Greg seemed to be coping with the new steps. Jo’s face was flushed and happy as she gazed up at Greg, whose broad back was to Katie.

Nice shoulders, she thought, distractedly.

‘Come on, then,’ said Ross and with an effort, she tried to concentrate on her steps, and not on how stupid she must look.

It was, as Baxter pointed out, a good night for Frank Sinatra fans. The class shuffled round the room to ‘New York, New York’, and ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin’, with Angelica diving on them for spot coaching. Jo and Ross were the star turn, teasing each other loudly about their mistakes but never stopping when they fluffed a step, while Katie got the distinct impression that she kept ending up with either Trina or Chloe because she was officially the duff choice. At least Chris and his lethal two left feet gave a girl a good view while her toes were being crushed to the swinging big-band sound of Nelson Riddle and his orchestra.

But to Katie’s surprise, after four or five songs, the simple steps did start to fall into place. Everyone else was moving on to simple variations, but Angelica kept her and Chris firmly on the basics, until there was a brief moment on her third lap of the room with Chris counting in her ear, during ‘Night and Day’, when everyone was moving around in the right time, in their own space, and the little room seemed to hum with a nostalgic glow.

She met Chris’s eye, and he seemed as surprised as she was, and a boyish smile of amazement spread across his handsome face.

‘Jesus,’ he said. ‘We’re dancing!’

As he spoke, Katie trod on his foot, the brass swelled in a big finish, and when the couples disengaged with happy nods and thanks, spontaneous clapping broke out. And then Angelica called a halt to proceedings. ‘Better to stop while we’re all on top!’ she said. ‘Next week, a little bit of Latin cha-cha-cha, so bring your party feet!’

When Katie looked over to see where Ross had got to, she spotted him with Jo, talking to Lauren and her mum. He saw her looking and waved her over.

‘You know Mrs Armstrong, don’t you?’ he said, as the older woman smiled at her warmly. ‘Mrs Armstrong has  . . .’