They danced illuminated only by the TV screen. Curtains lowered, all lamps turned off, locked door. All precautions were useless. After five years, my abilities have become more than just being a manager of seaside holiday houses. Small cameras in the moldings below the ceiling are my eyes in every room. They send me their image through a wireless network.
I was watching the couple - two dusky bodies in a big room. The only hint of clothing was three pale stripes, untouched by the sun over the past eight days. This lack of boundaries was one of the signs that attracted my attention. Another one was the touches. There were too many of them. Fast kisses, caressing on the back, squeezing of the bellies, a rubbing with hips - none of these moves were in use during a contest.
I was watching them not only on my computer screen but also on the TV screen in their room. There, they were No 8 - Vincent and Angelica, one of the twelve couples in a sports dance competition two weeks ago. So different under the bright lights. Vince was a striking resemblance to a Nazi SS soldier because of his short dark-blond hair, pale skin, and black suit. The narrow, knee-length red dress emphasized Jane's athletic short body. At the same time, it made her look a bit chubby because of her round bulge-cheeked face. So different as contestants, so identical as tourists. Two shadows who perform a quick dance, fueled by a secret passion.
I could see it with my own eyes. It was neither dedication to the art of dance nor the polished skills of a two-year partnership, as the television commentator said after the second round. The truth remained hidden to him but not to me. Vince rented house No 11, and Angie was in No 4. One of the houses was empty every night in the past six days. This contradiction between their public and personal life attracted my attention because my ex-wife Sarah was the same sly fox. Her passion for other men has been a vague suspicion for me to the 15th of August, five years ago. On this day, one of my employees saw her enter house No 4. Its inhabitant was Kevin.
No doubt, these dancers had decided to follow their own rules too. There were no wrong moves even in their private dance this evening. Like those - facing each other, they made two steps back, then several small steps forward. The bodies were rocking from side to side all the time. They clung tightly from the shoulders to the abdomen, still swinging. There was no fear of bad judgments.
What a deception. There was a judge. That was me. Now I was able and willing to do something, not to stay like a statue on that August day. There was a tablet in my right hand. It was the same as that one in their room, next to the TV. Both of them could control all the devices that need to be switched on. I tapped once on the screen. An image of TV remote control appeared. After the second tap, the only light in their room remained the shine of the moon through the curtains. Even this pale glow was enough for me to see their eyes. Wide-open and staring at the TV. The bodies stuck even tighter, pressed into a hug by the hands, and turned into stones without the life-giving music.
