I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I went to her. It was a letter from the contest I'd entered in December. I stared at the words, "We are pleased to inform you..." for ages. I must have looked quite shocked because Alex stepped closer to me and patted me on the shoulder.

'It's all right. It's all swings and roundabouts, you know. They'll be other contests.'

Gobsmacked, I passed the letter to her and she read it. Then she grabbed me and swung me around. 'My God, Catherine! You've won!'

I still couldn't speak so nodded numbly and hugged her back. Stewart stepped over to us and patted me on the back, 'Congratulations, Cate.'

Alex and I broke and I stared at her and finally managed to smile and she beamed back at me, 'I'm so proud of you, sweetheart.' That was worth more to me than winning was, though the cheque included in the envelope wasn't so bad, either. She said, 'I told you you're brilliant, you must listen to me from now on.' I nodded and stared into Alex's eyes, our arms round one another's waists until Stewart cleared his throat.

'We should celebrate.'

Alex kissed me on the tip of my nose, 'Yes, we should.'

That night we got dressed up (Alex wore a long dress coat and slacks and let me wear an antique necklace of hers) and went to La Gousse D'Ail. Stewart came along, but I held Alex's hand whenever we were walking and he stayed over to the side. I didn't care, it was my night and I was going to hold her hand if I bleeding well wanted to. Afterward we went to the George and Davis on Little Clarendon Street for ice cream. When we pulled back into the drive at the house, Stewart said he was exhausted and thought he'd head home. Perhaps his ego was a bit wounded as Alex had been rather fawning over me the entire evening.

Once Alex and I were finally alone again I wanted to talk to her. Not about anything in particular, more out of simply being able to talk to her without someone else lolling about. I was so excited about everything: winning the contest (which I was still trying to make my brain accept had actually happened), seeing Alex all dressed up for the evening, and finally having her all to myself that while she was locking the door behind us I began dancing around the living room. More "the hills are alive with the sound of music" twirling than actually dancing, but you know what I mean. She stood in the doorway between the foyer and the living room, smiling as I careered about. I collapsed into giggles and she asked, 'Are you very happy, my dear?'

'Yes. I feel like dancing.'

'All right.' She crossed to the stereo and turned on the radio. The Lionel Richie song "Stuck on You" was playing and she joined me and took my hands like a waltz.

I blushed and pulled away, 'What are you doing?'

'I thought you wanted to dance.'

It had never occurred to me that I could dance with her. That was a brilliant idea! I nodded and promptly stepped on her foot. 'Sorry, I've never danced with anyone before.'

She chuckled, 'It's all right, I'll lead, you follow.'

I got the hang of it relatively quickly and we waltzed around the room, giggling. I pretended that we were in a grand ballroom somewhere, maybe Buckingham Palace, dressed to the nines and had been chosen to lead a waltz together. Everyone thought we looked gorgeous together. That song ended and the Rod Stewart song "Having a Party" came on. I wasn't ready to stop dancing with her and asked, 'Do you know how to shag?'

Her eyes grew wide and I realised exactly what I'd said, or what she'd thought I'd said and broke down laughing. After a moment of stunned silence she said, 'I dare say I do, but I take it that means something different in America than it does here.'