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Authors: Julia Williams

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BOOK: Strictly Love
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‘This is my first time,’ she said, laughing again, her whole face lighting up. ‘So be gentle with me.’

‘If you're gentle in return,’ Mark batted back. ‘The name's Mark, by the way.’

‘Emily,’ she replied. ‘You honestly can't be a worse dancer than I am,’ she added, as Mark took hold of her. His hands were sweating, and despite trying to remember Isabella's admonitions about relaxing, he felt stiff and awkward.

‘I don't know about that,’ said Mark as he stepped on her toes once again. ‘Sorry. You see what I mean.’

‘It's okay, really,’ she said, ‘I think we're probably quits on that front.’

‘This is horrible, though, isn't it?’ said Mark, desperately trying to maintain a closed position and keep four/four time. ‘I don't know why I'm here.’

Emily laughed again as she realised that once more they were out of step with each other.

‘Just dance like no one's looking,’ she said, as they both paused for breath.

‘Do you think that will work?’ asked Mark, looking around. ‘I can't help feeling everyone's staring at us.’

‘I'm sure they're not,’ said Emily, ‘but if we dance as if they're not, it doesn't matter, does it?’

‘Dance like no one's looking,’ said Mark. ‘Where have I heard that before?’

‘On
Green Wing
?’ suggested Emily. ‘That's where I heard it first.’

‘Oh, I love
Green Wing
,’ Mark replied.

‘Me too,’ said Emily. ‘It's one of those proverb-type things. No one knows who wrote it. It goes like this:

Dance like no one's looking.
Love like you've never been hurt.

Work like you don't have to

Live like it's heaven on earth.

* * *

 

I think that's rather lovely, don't you?’

‘Dancing like no one's looking is probably the best recipe I can think of for getting through this excruciating experience,’ said Mark.

‘Charming,’ she replied.

‘Oh God, that didn't come out right,’ said Mark. ‘It's not all.’

‘It's not all what?’ Emily teased.

‘Excruciating,’ said Mark. ‘I mean, you're not.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ said Emily. She felt secretly flattered. She hadn't come here on the pull, but as they continued their awkward trotting around the room, she reflected that it was nice that someone other than Callum had showed an interest in her. However vague, it was a very welcome boost to her ego. Even if he did keep treading on her toes.

Chapter Five
 

‘The name's Rob Dylan, by the way,’ Rob said as he expertly led Katie round the room. Irritatingly he seemed to be rather a good dancer, ‘as in Bob's younger, more good-looking brother.’

‘Of course,’ said Katie. ‘I spotted the resemblance instantly.’

Rob was a bit of a revelation actually. Katie's previous experience of dancing lessons had been fun, but had not exactly filled her with confidence about the dancing abilities of the majority of the male of the species. Charlie wasn't bad, but their wedding day was probably the last time they'd danced together. Not only could Rob dance, but he knew how to lead her properly too. Which meant that, rusty as she was, she felt she was actually dancing the foxtrot the way it was meant to be danced. With Rob, she was gliding round the room with perfect confidence. For a few fleeting moments she felt graceful again. She was grateful to him for that at least, even if he was a bit of a twat.

‘I'm Katie Caldwell,’ she said. ‘And I bet your brother doesn't dance as well as you do.’

‘Nah,’ said Rob. ‘But he sings a bit better.’

Katie laughed. Dancing with Rob was turning out to be a lot more fun than she'd expected. Actually, she hadn't laughed so much in ages, she suddenly thought ruefully. When had she and Charlie stopped laughing together?

‘Has anyone told you, you have a lovely smile,’ said Rob, pulling her slightly closer than was strictly necessary.

‘Yes,’ said Katie firmly. ‘You did.’ She had been going to say, ‘my husband’, but then a mischievous desire stopped her. Rob clearly couldn't help himself. He was a serial flirt who thought he was God's gift to women. He really needed nipping in the bud instantly, but it wouldn't hurt to string him along a little bit. Just for fun.

‘So I did,’ said Rob. ‘And did I mention your gorgeous eyes?’

‘Hmm, I seem to remember you mentioning my thighs,’ said Katie. What was this guy like? He couldn't seriously be thinking she'd have forgotten his earlier comments.

For a minute, Rob looked slightly nonplussed, but he recovered himself well.

‘That was before I had stared into your gorgeous eyes,’ he said, kissing her hand gallantly as the dance came to an end.

‘Yes, that'll be it,’ Katie said, with only the barest hint of sarcasm.

People were milling about chatting together, or heading for the pub next door. It was really time she got going. Katie wasn't used to staying out late midweek, and with Charlie away it was harder than normal to get herself out of bed in the morning and organise the kids. She needed an early night.

‘You're coming next door for a drink.’ It was a statement, not a question. Rob was steering Katie towards the door in a rather well-practised fashion. Despite herself, she couldn't help admiring his ridiculous self-confidence.

‘I don't think so,’ said Katie. ‘I really have to get on.’

‘Oh yes you are,’ said Rob, ‘you just don't know it yet. Expect the unexpected. That's my motto.’

‘Well, how's this for unexpected?’ said Katie. ‘A woman saying no to you.’

‘I wasn't chatting you up,’ said Rob.

‘You so were,’ said Katie. ‘And I'm not the slightest bit interested.’

‘Don't flatter yourself, darling,’ Rob replied. ‘You're not my type.’

‘And what's your type then?’ Katie was furious. Which was ridiculous. Why should she care what he thought of her?

‘Thin,’ was the hurtful rejoinder.

Katie stood with her mouth open. The cheek of him.

‘Well, you're hardly likely to win Mr Universe, are you?’

They glared at each other for a second.

‘Are you coming next door for a drink?’ Mark and Emily came up. Emily looked flushed and pretty. Her slimness accentuated Katie's curves. Katie wasn't normally the jealous type, but suddenly, next to Emily, she felt like a walrus.

‘No, I don't think I am,’ said Katie. ‘It's time I was off.’

‘Me too,’ said Emily. ‘I've got an early start in the morning.’

‘Will we see you ladies here again next week?’ Rob asked.

It was all Katie and Emily could do to keep straight faces. He was so ridiculously pompous. Despite her irritation, Katie realised it was hard to stay cross with someone who was clearly so deluded about his charms.

‘Maybe,’ said Katie. ‘We'll have to see.’

‘So you're not dancing again?’ It was clear from the look on his face that this was not the answer Rob was expecting. He looked like a disappointed spaniel.

‘Depends who's asking,’ said Katie in an outrageously flirty, mischievous manner, before she and Emily made a bolt for it, laughing like demons.

‘I think that went well,’ said Rob, watching them go.

‘And you've worked that out how?’ said Mark. ‘They‘ve both just left. And they were laughing at us.’

‘Sure sign they fancy us. Besides, you know my motto,’ said Rob, touching his nose with a conspiratorial grin. ‘Expect the unexpected. Don't you worry, they'll be back. Like I said, they're gagging for it. I can tell.’

* * *

 

‘How dare he!’ Katie was still apparently brooding on Rob's words about her weight the next day when Emily rang her to see if she'd calmed down yet. ‘I mean, obviously I don't care what that idiot Rob thinks, but – first Charlie told me I'd put on weight and now that prat says I've got fat thighs. I must be enormous.’

Emily made soothing noises down the phone while glancing anxiously at her watch. She had a mountain of stuff to shift before the end of the day, and having rung her soap star and discovered what she'd
actually
said about the black girl she was meant to be sharing a room with on
Love Shack
was somewhat worse than even the papers had inferred, Emily had a feeling she might be up all night sorting out the mess. She really didn't have time for a long chat. But Katie always listened to her troubles, so it seemed mean not to do the same. The problem was, Katie had spent so long at home, she'd forgotten what it was like to be in a busy workplace and not have time to make personal calls. Emily looked across the corridor at her boss's office. In a moment, she felt sure that Mel would be on her like a ton of bricks for chatting during office time.

‘Liar,’ said Katie. ‘Thanks for humouring your best friend. I do know I have to lose some weight. But it's not as if he's God's gift, is it?’

‘Hardly,’ said Emily.

‘Mind you, his friend was nice,’ said Katie. ‘You looked
very
cosy together.’

‘We were not, as you put it, cosy,’ said Emily. ‘Besides, I've got Callum. Why would I look elsewhere?’

‘Why indeed?’ said Katie with just the barest hint of irony.

‘Oh shut up,’ said Emily. ‘Look, I've got to go, Mel is exiting her office and heading my way. So the burning questions is: are we going again next week?’

‘I'll let you know,’ said Katie, and put the phone down.

Katie stared out of the window at her neatly ordered garden. Why had she let Rob get under her skin? Was it because he'd said
the same thing as Charlie had about her weight? Or was there something more to it? She shook her head. Thinking about it was a waste of energy. She had a house to clean, a baby to feed, children to pick up from school and dinner to cook. Besides, Charlie was going to be home on Friday, which gave her the perfect opportunity to have a romantic evening in with him. Time she got on and started planning it properly.

Rob wound up his Year Ten lesson on Hitler. Sometimes it felt like the only subject he taught was the Second World War. A whole generation of children were growing up to whom history simply meant the Tudors and Hitler. Oh, and the slave trade. It made him despair.

‘Got a hot date tonight, sir?’ Matt Sadler, one of Rob's more irritating students, piped up in the kerfuffle that followed the end of the lesson.

‘None of your business,’ said Rob, picking up his books.

‘Ooh, are you sure?’ Matt was one of those who just wouldn't leave it alone. He nudged one of his mates and whispered something they both clearly found funny. ‘Only my mate's sister fancies you.’

‘Well she's clearly a woman of taste,’ said Rob, resisting the urge to throw a piece of chalk at him. When Rob had been at school, that's what his Maths teacher, Mr Coombs, would have done. But in these more touchy-feely times, should Rob even contemplate doing something that might cause a moment's misery to one of his charges, he'd end up explaining himself before some snotty tribunal. So instead he swept out of the classroom, ignoring the wolf-whistles and giggles that followed his departure.

Rob shivered. However irritating the likes of Matt Sadler might be, he would never dream of actually throwing the chalk. In the old days, the days when he was a student teacher and he and Suzie had been together, he would have been much more reckless. But that was then and this was now.

Suzie. He hadn't thought about her in years. Maybe Mark was right. That Levellers song in the pub the other night – “Fifteen Years”, wasn't it? – should be their theme tune. He was going to end up a sad, lonely old drunk, sobbing into his pint.

Rob entered the staffroom feeling a bit odd. He wasn't normally this introspective, what had got into him this morning? What he needed was half an hour's sit down and a cup of coffee. He was actually gasping for a fag, but the whole school was now a smoke-free zone. Soon he'd be joining his Year Eights behind the bike sheds.

Rob made himself a coffee and sat down in an uncomfortable ancient chair shoved in the corner of the staffroom. Thanks to Matt he was too late to join in with the conversations already in progress. Not that he felt much like chatting with the twittering women who ran Modern Languages and spent most of their breaks moaning about how unfair it was that the PE department were always trying to muscle in on their lesson time. And he'd had one too many conversations about the latest views on the Big Bang theory with Andy Peacock, head of Physics, just recently.

In the good old days, when he'd first started teaching, you wouldn't have been able to see from one end of the room to the other through the fug of smoke. Now, of course, the diehards like him were among the two per cent of the population made to feel like pariahs.

He leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes for a moment. Katie's face floated in front of him. How odd was that? Why was he thinking about her? Her and her fat thighs. He tried to dismiss her from his thoughts, but Katie's face stubbornly refused to go away. Then it came to him.

Katie reminded him of Suzie. Granted, Katie was much plumper, but there was something about her that was so like Suzie it made him wince. Perhaps it was her fair hair – or her petite form. Maybe it was that bright, joyous laugh. Suzie had
laughed like that. She had been full of fun and life and
joie de vivre
. Until that day. Then all the light and love had gone out of her. Gone out of them. Rob tried not to think about all that any more. But damn it, Katie had brought it back.

This would never do. Rob picked up a
Guardian
someone had left lying around. It wasn't like him to be so anal. And it didn't get him anywhere. Besides, he'd left all that stuff behind a long time ago. He turned to the crossword and had a go at that instead. Much better than dwelling on the past.

Mark was whistling as he entered the surgery that morning.

‘You're cheerful today,’ Diana greeted him.

Ah, good. That made the morning even better. If Diana was here it was much more likely that things would go smoothly for a change.

‘Yes, I am rather,’ said Mark. It was an odd feeling, to be this cheerful. He had spent so many months embroiled in gloom, it was a refreshing change. And one he could only put down to one thing.

Emily.

Mark had thought of nothing else all night long. He hadn't enjoyed being in the company of any women since Sam had left him. And now, suddenly, here was one who had made him sit up and take notice.

It wasn't that he fancied her exactly. Although she did have, as Rob would have put it, All That. But more than that, they had had a laugh. And they had seemed to find common ground really quickly. The time he had spent with her had been all too brief. He hoped that she'd be going along next week.

He had a quick look at his day list, where he could see three root treatments, endless amounts of drilling and filling, a bridge to repair and Granny O'Leary to boot. It would have normally sent him into the doldrums. But not today. He was in too much of a good mood. And thankfully, there was no sign of Jasmine.

‘Have we heard any more about Jasmine's complaint?’ Mark asked Diana at lunchtime.

‘Not a dicky bird,’ said Diana.

‘Perhaps I should ring her?’ Mark asked, not really relishing the task.

‘Oh, you know what Jasmine's like,’ said Diana, 'she'll be on to the next thing soon and it will all be forgotten. Particularly when she's in pain again.’

‘Good,’ said Mark. Diana was right. It would doubtless blow over.

As usual, he barely had time to pause for breath, and by the end of the day three cups of cold coffee were lined up on the side. It was only as he got into his car to go home that he allowed himself to think about Emily again. She was the most attractive woman he'd met since he'd been single and he didn't even know her surname. Or where she lived. Or her phone number.

There was no help for it: he was going to have to go dancing again.

Emily was coming to the end of a long day and feeling absolutely exhausted. She had enjoyed the previous evening much more than she would have thought possible. And it hadn't actually mattered that much that she was crap at dancing. Mark had been equally crap. And she had enjoyed dancing crappily with him. It had been fun. Plus he had been, well, so gentlemanly and attentive. She wasn't used to that after Callum.

She paused from filing away some case notes. Callum versus Mark. Callum was gorgeous, of course. And made her feel gorgeous. He was sexy. He made her feel sexy. He was dangerous, which gave him that edge.

Mark, on the other hand, didn't seem the dangerous type. He seemed sweet and kind and thoughtful. Could she do sweet and kind and thoughtful, after mad, bad and dangerous to know?

BOOK: Strictly Love
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