How Can I Keep Dancing? [ON HOLD]

How Can I Keep Dancing? ~~~ Chapter 8 ~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CHAPTER EIGHT~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the opera is over, I see Elijah make for my father, already asking for permission before I can stop him. Elijah hadn’t exactly told me where we were going after his proposal, so I couldn’t help but feel a little suspicious as to the whereabouts of this place he so speaks of. I break off from whatever conversation Mother is having with Agnes Holland about some pearls she’s seen that she believes are fake, and reach Father to hear the tail end of what Elijah was asking.

“…we won’t be out late, I assure you,” Elijah says politely.

Father scrutinizes us both closely, but on closer inspection of me, a smile breaks through.

“I trust you both not to get into any more mischief than I did when I was younger.” He gazes towards Mother sneakily. “You better go quick before she protests to seeing you two together.”

I look her way as well. “You know,” I tell him, “sometimes I wonder if you even love Mama.”

Father grins at me. “Your mother is an exceptionally beautiful, influential and motivating woman. Any man found it hard back in our day to keep their hands off her.”

“Keep their hands off strangling her, more like it,” I mumble, but Father hears it.

He simply laughs instead of telling me off.

Elijah ushers me out after that, already feeling Mother’s roving eyes searching for us. And I am immediately suspicious of his plans when I spot Thomas and Nancy outside waiting.

“Ready to go?” Tom asks; his arm slung around Nancy.

“Ready as ever.” Elijah grins and begins hailing us a cab.

We each squeeze into the tiny compartment with all of us giggling at our great escape while Elijah seats himself in the front seat. Elijah begins telling the driver directions to wherever he was planning on taking us, and I realize when we weave in and out of passing traffic that I’d never been to this part of town before.

“Do you have any idea where we’re heading?” I ask Nancy, but she only shrugs in reply.

“Uh-uh, Ducky.” Tom wags a finger at me. “It’s a surprise.”

“So I’ve been told,” I mumble.

And a few minutes later, the driver pulls up alongside an alley way. We each start to pile out of the cab, Elijah throwing the driver the money we owed him. Elijah takes my arm and steers me down the alleyway and my eyes immediately land on the dingy sign above a door.

“We’re going to an Irish Pub?” I ask Elijah exasperatedly.

He smiles to me. “Don’t judge it until you’ve seen it.”

“But aren’t I not allowed in? I’m only seventeen.”

“Tom and I are eighteen, and we both know the owners here. They won’t mind if you guys are here.”

Though I feel excited to finally let my hair down on a dance floor, I feel nervous at the idea of Mother finding out where I’ve been. Surely she’d be able to smell the liquor or the smoke? And what about older men? Would any of them try to take advantage of me? How would Father think of Elijah, knowing that he was taking me to a pub when I am underage.

Elijah reassures me by squeezing my hand. “You’ll be fine, Ducky. I won’t let go of you.”

We arrive at the door where a bald man in black is standing smoking a cigarette. On the door is written REAR ENTRANCE.