wonderful
!" Turning to Stan, she said, "Stanley, hello again. Lovely to see you."
Belinda took Anne off to complete her registration, so Stan entered the main hall.
It looked like most of the usual suspects were there. One of the older gents hadn't made it yet, but Pamela and Carol had arrived. So had Tom, he saw with some disquiet, but he didn't really have anything against the man, so he approached him and said "Hi!"
Tom replied, "Hi yourself!" and the two got to swapping general chitchat.
After a while they ran down. In the silence Tom said, "Pamela turned me down, the tease. I thought I'd get at least a dinner date, but no, nada, nothing. Well, you can lead a horse to water, as they say. You fancy a go?"
Stan thought: first, 'I'm glad that Pamela knocked him back!'; second, 'He was inhumanly coarse in that last remark!'; and third of course, that 'No! I don't want Pamela, I want Anne!'
Luckily Yves came into the hall to call the class to order. As he did, Belinda glided in with Anne. Stan could
hear
Tom's eyes click around.
Stan found himself partnered with Carol again. He noticed with amusement that Pamela had managed to grab one of the older gents, and that Tom found himself partnered by a matron whose flowery dress required an impressive square footage of fabric.
Anne was, of course, to be partnered by Yves for this first lesson. But first Yves led Belinda around the floor showing, at about a quarter speed, the steps. Next they did the same to some music, and only then did Belinda surrender Yves so he could gather Anne into his arms.
Belinda set the music off, and then watched the couples for a while as they moved across the floor. Yves meanwhile, after making Anne laugh with a comment and an exaggerated leer, was showing her the moves in the same way Belinda had shown Stan in his first lesson. Stan had to concentrate hard in order to keep up, so he was unable to spare much time even to watch Anne.
Carol must have caught him though. "She is beautiful, isn't she?"
Stan's absentminded reply of, "Yes, she is," may not have been entirely tactful seeing as he had her hand in his, and his other hand on her shoulder. She hesitated a moment which was just enough to make Stan lose his rhythm.
Carol gave him a black look for a moment but obviously decided to let him off. Stan recovered his wits (and his place in the steps) and the pair continued. Stan said, quietly, "Sorry," and she actually smiled at him. "She is. Do you know her?"
"I work with her, actually," Stan explained. "I told her about the dance classes and she was keen to come along."
"You're a lucky man, Stanley!" Carol told him.
- - - - - - - - - -
Shortly afterwards Belinda called for a halt and tea. Anne rushed over to Stan, clearly very happy indeed.
"I should've done this ages ago!" she told him, grabbing his arm. "Let's see what refreshments they've got for us!"
"I wouldn't get your hopes up too high if I were you," Stan said, "It's not much." That didn't stop Anne dragging him over to the tables where it was set up.
"Coo. It's like going to the Tuck Shop at school," she remarked.
"You still had a Tuck Shop at Talbot Heath?" Stan asked her with amusement. The 'Tuck Shop', a place inside the school where, at break times, you could buy potato chips, doughnuts, sticky buns, sweets and canned drinks had disappeared from almost all the schools even when Stan had been there, seven years before Anne.
"Yes, well,
Talbot Heath
was a throwback in many ways. That was just one of them." She grabbed a roll and a can of diet cola. Stan stuck with his bottle of water.
"How'd you like it, Anne?" he asked, adding "Pick it up okay?"
"I think the ballet training I was forced into is helping, actually!" she replied. Stan looked the question. "School. There was a ballet school only a mile away, and we 'girls' had to take lessons. Supposed to make us more graceful. Anyway, I think those lessons are helping me because I learned to pick up choreography, and something relatively simple like this comes quite easily. Of course, there's a big difference between ballroom dancing and ballet."
Soon enough Belinda restarted the lesson. Stan was delighted to be partnered with Pamela this time. The chestnut haired young woman and he had fun with their dances, although Stan still felt he was concentrating too much on the steps to really enjoy it. Pamela had picked the dance up well.
Then came Yves and Belinda's demonstration dance. Anne quickly moved to Stan's side, and Stan grinned when he saw Tom's eyes widen as he saw the move. Better yet, Pamela was still next to him on his other side!
'I could get used to this,' he thought.
It got even better when Pamela snuggled in tightly to his right side, and Anne responded by doing the same to his left. The two ladies leaned forward slightly, exchanging a knowing glance. Stan was in a state, unable to work out whether embarrassment, delight or desire should take the leading role in his emotions. Tom looked like he was going to have a heart attack. Both men were red in the face, but for very different reasons.
Too soon, Yves and Belinda called an end to the evening and his two captors released Stan. Anne quietly giggled when she saw the pole-axed expression on his face. She grinned at Pamela, who winked and sauntered off.
As Anne and Stan made their way back to the car, Anne, smiling, asked, "So what's the story about Pamela then? Fancying the younger woman, are we?"
The colder outside air had brought Stan back to his senses, but he was still a little embarrassed. He answered,
"Pamela's a student. She's going into marketing when she graduates, and wanted to learn dancing as a confidence booster, and something to improve posture and poise."
"Ooh," he interrupted himself, "That's why you're so poised, isn't it? The ballet?"
"Mmm, yes. I thought it a waste of time
then
, but it did have benefits," Anne confirmed. She prompted, "You were saying about Pamela?"
"Um, yes. Pamela was my first dance partner after Belinda let me loose. Hey, wait a minute – Yves got you to himself all evening, didn't he? Sly old devil!" Stan said.
They'd got to the car by this point. Stan opened the passenger door and let Anne in, before walking around to the driver's side. Once they were going, he picked up the conversation.
"Anyway," he continued, "Pamela and I got on fine, and I managed not to break her toes! We had a good laugh about my 'ability', in fact. Then, last week, that Tom guy partnered her, and he was doing his best to get his hands
all
over her. He told me that he'd asked her to dinner and she'd turned him down. So I guess that was Pamela's way of telling him he had no chance, yes?"
"I think so," said Anne. "Mind you, I had to snuggle up close as well, else she'd have thought you were hers!"
'Does that mean you think I'm
yours
?' Stan thought, hope and confusion mingling. Soon it was replaced by fear and desire. '
Caron, what do I do
?' he begged silently. He could feel Caron laughing at him, she didn't seem upset, just amused. '
That doesn't help
!' he chided.
The moment had passed, however, and soon enough he'd reached Anne's cottage. He parked, got out and went around to her side. With a flourish he opened the door, and Anne emerged with exaggerated dignity, nose held high.
"Thank you, my man. You may escort me to my door," she told him haughtily, but ruined it by breaking into a wide smile. She put her arm on his and he walked her up the short path to her front door. She turned to him and said, "Well, good night then, Stan. That was fun."
"Yes, it was, wasn't it?" he answered.
For a moment he felt he should say more, but he hesitated, and it was gone. His mouth had gone dry, he felt flushed and hoped that it wasn't too obvious in the streetlight. He stammered out a "G-good night, Anne!" and almost bolted, just managing to catch himself and slow down. He could feel eyes on him from the doorway, then he heard a key in a lock, the door opening and Anne's footsteps as she wiped her feet on the doormat. He turned, just in time to catch the door closing. He turned back, walked to his car and got in. He put the key in the lock, but before turning it he held his head in his hands.
In the relative privacy of his car, he shouted at himself, "You
IDIOT
! Why couldn't you just say something?"
