It Takes Two To Tango

Chapter Nineteen

Before long, I’m back in the dance studio, ready to teach Roo and Alex their routine. Jude turns up, and straightaway takes hold of my hand, looks searchingly into my face and asks me how I am, which I’m rather touched by.

I tell him truthfully that I’m feeling a lot better- I really am. It was strange not having my dad there at night- it seemed too quiet, and there was a great deal of tension in the air. Molly and I tiptoed about the house, timidly attempting not to put the slightest foot wrong, in case Mum broke down like I did.

I can‘t imagine how she must feel right now. Thinking about the heartbreak I felt when I broke up with Jude, which was bad enough, it must be about a hundred times worse for her- she must be thinking back to her wedding day, when she made those vows and truly believed that she’d want to keep them forever, that she’d want to spend the rest of her life with the man beside her at that point.

She must feel awful. I know I would. When Jude and I broke up, I knew it was for the right reasons, but it wasn’t affecting anyone but ourselves: but with them, it has completely ripped an entire family apart. After spending almost twenty years married to each other, the memories, the weight of their relationship must be pressing down on her as if the entire world is on her shoulders.

The quiet household only emphasised this, but I think it’s something I’ll have to get used to. I deliberately didn’t try and think back to what it had been like when my dad was there, there’s no point mulling over the past so much when you know it will only get you down. And I know it will.

Roo and Alex have been practising as much as usual, and are getting very good at their routine. They show us their progress straight away, managing the lift flawlessly  and grinning proudly at each other at the end, which makes me smile at just how happy they are.

I can‘t help thinking that these two have a love which will last far longer than my parent‘s love has. Something about them just screams that they were made for each other. If only my parents had had such an everlasting love, rather than one which quickly descended into fights and arguments and shouting at each other every five minutes.

Roo and Alex are a complete delight to teach, and as we move onto working on their middle section of the dance, I realise how well Jude and I work as a team. When one of us suggests something, the other usually has an idea about how to fit it into the routine, or how to teach it to them in a simple way so that they aren’t too overwhelmed and can manage it.

He’s also very supportive and encouraging, when he puts his mind to it, and is the perfect teacher for the job. I tell him this, after the session, and he smiles at me.

‘Ahhh, I know,’ he says, sticking out his tongue. ‘That’s me, perfect at everything, of course.’

‘You keep telling yourself that, Callahan,’ I tell him, as he winks at me.

‘Right, to work?’ he asks, and again, I’m surprised by how focused he’s being. This is very different to the Jude of before.

‘Indeed,’ I say, and go over to switch on the music. This time, the sequence we worked on yesterday works a lot better, and we actually make a lot of progress. I think the fact that I’ve had a good couple of hours to let the impact of everything that happened yesterday sink in, and I’ve had a night’s sleep. When I finally master it, and we do it together simultaneously, we high five each other, and then get back to working on it.

It really fits into the routine, and as I dance with him, I find myself very much looking forward to the actual competition, something I’m not used to. Usually I’m absolutely terrified- but something about Jude makes it very easy to relax.

And I don’t usually relax. I’m the sort of person who will fret and worry, and worry and fret until I’m so worn out with worrying that I find myself exhausted. Jude is the opposite, but he seems to be rubbing off on me. I always come away from dancing with him feeling as if I’ve been given a massage or something- I’m all relaxed and calm.

As he spins me round for the final time today, I realise just how glad I am that Sarah swapped us round. Despite all the palaver with the relationship, I think we’re over that now. And no matter how much of a flirt this boy can be, he’s much more preferable to Dan.

*
The next morning, we meet at the shop Sarah advised us to visit to find our outfits in, and start the search for the perfect tango outfit.

‘We’re looking for a red outfit, yeah?’ Jude asks, and I nod. You can’t really do a tango without a red dress, can you?

And so, the search begins. Jude finds a suitable outfit straight away: a red shirt to go with the black trousers he always wears to competitions. He tries it on, and I find myself having to shove my jaw back from where it’s hanging.

The red colour makes his eyes and hair look darker, and with the top few buttons undone, he looks seriously smouldering- he certainly has a very nice chest, and this shows it off to it’s every advantage. Well- the only improvement I could think of is if he removed it.

He raises an eyebrow. ‘Do I look like a Casanova?’

‘Even better,’ I tell him, truthfully, but I raise an eyebrow and smile as if I’m joking. Probably best that I don’t make it obvious that I’m inwardly drooling over him right now.

We move on to look for something I can wear to match. There’s an abundance of red and black dresses, in varying degrees of appropriateness. Some of them are floor length and classy, whilst others probably have less material than my current underwear.

‘Here, try this on!’ Jude throws an alarmingly small amount of black and red material at me. I catch it, and hold it out. It’s literally just like underwear, with only the thinnest strip holding the lacy top and bottom together.

‘You’re having a laugh,’ I say in disbelief. The attendant chooses that moment to walk past.

‘You want to try this on?’ she asks, and before I can say anything, steers me by the arm through into a fitting room.

‘I’ll wait outside- you can show me how it looks,’ she tells me, with a helpful smile, as I look over my shoulder in panic and mouth ‘you’re dead’ at Jude, who is doubled up laughing.

There’s no other option but to try it on. The attendant is waiting to see how it looks, and… oh help.

I reluctantly get into it. There is so little of it that I look completely ridiculous, I might as well just dance completely naked. I don’t think I’ve ever had this much skin on show; I feel completely scandalous, and blush at myself in the mirror. It doesn’t even look flattering, I look as if I’m trying way too hard to draw attention to my body, and as I’ve always gone by the saying that it’s far better to leave more to the imagination, as then people can wonder, rather than analyse exactly what you’ve got, and what you’re proudly parading around the room, it’s definitely not my sort of style.

Someone bangs roughly on the door. ‘Ky, let me in.’ Jude. Oh bloody hell, no. He can’t see me like this. ‘Are you clothed?’

‘Hardly,’ I answer.

‘Good,’ he says, and opens the door (why do they not have locks in this place?)

I see his eyes widen, as I quickly grab my coat and try to put it on. ‘Don’t look!’

‘Are you having a laugh?’ he says, swiping the coat from me. ‘Of course I want to look, you look amazing.’

‘Amazingly like a stripper,’ I tell him, sarcastically, trying to find some clothes. Outrageously, he grabs my forearms.

‘Don’t hide from me, young lady,’ he says. ‘I want to have a good look.’

I lightly slap him on the cheek, reaching up to cover his eyes. ‘I’m not going to wear this, Callahan, so get out.’

‘I know you’re not going to wear this, which is why I’m making the most of the time you are.’ He pulls my hand away, looks into my eyes, and grins. ‘I’m joking Foxy, I’ll let you get out of it.’

I raise my eyebrows at him. I wasn’t expecting him to be so… well, I don’t know- gentlemanly about leaving. Not that bursting in on me and taking a good look was gentlemanly. I’m not sure I can forgive him for that.

He winks, and heads out of the changing room, telling the assistant we’re looking for something with a bit more material.

I get out of the ridiculous outfit, hanging it neatly back on the hanger, and head out into the shop to find Jude. He’s still browsing the women’s section, looking for something for me, bless him.

I go over to him, and he grins at me, taking my hand casually, lacing his fingers through mine to pull me towards a rack of dresses he’s picked out. ‘I found a few for you,’ he tells me.

I look through the rack of clothes, rather impressed by his clothing choices. Most of them are ones I would have picked out myself- short, but not too short, just the right mix between classy and sexy, without being too promiscuous.

None of them are quite right though. I hold a few up against myself in front of the mirror, and wonder which one to choose, when Jude comes up behind me, letting a red dress slide down to cover over the one I’m holding up against myself.

I take it from him with a smile, and a little gasp escapes my lips as I take a proper look.

It’s beautiful. Just the same red as his shirt, the dress is the perfect length for me to wear- not too short, but not too long. The top also has black lace on it, adding a rather risqué element to the dress, but it’s not too much, thankfully- enough to fit in with the sexy tango theme, but still appropriate.

‘D’you like it?’ Jude asks, a little bashfully.

‘Like it? It’s gorgeous, Jude!’ I tell him enthusiastically. ‘You’re such a star for finding this, you know that?’

He pokes his tongue out at me. ‘I do my best.’

I go into the changing room, quickly slipping into the dress. It fits perfectly, and actually accentuates my curves, contrasting with my dark hair and eyes.

Looking in the mirror, I’m actually happy with how I look- something which is very rare for me. I’m usually one to critique every fault with my body… but I can’t fault this dress.

Jude waits for me outside, and as I shyly step out of the changing room, he beams at me. ‘I should totally be a personal shopper,’ he tells me, proudly. ‘You look like a freaking goddess.’

I blush. ‘Thanks. It’s completely perfect- I love it.’

‘You look just perfect in it, Foxy,’ he tells me. ‘I want to dance with you just from looking at you.’

I raise an eyebrow. ‘Probably not a good idea in this narrow corridor.’

‘Nonsense,’ he replies. ‘Why not?’

Sweeping me into his arms, we tango along the changing rooms corridor, watching out so that we don’t hit any of the door handles. I find myself laughing out loud as he sweeps me into a dramatic lift, my skirt swirling around as he twirls me about. There’s just something about him which makes me feel happy- maybe being friends is good for us, after all? Mm. I’ll keep telling myself that. But as I carry on dancing with the gorgeous boy in front of me, it’s getting harder and harder for me to believe that just being friends is enough.