Page 164 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

“Found the tape,” Bri ran up with a triumphant look on her face. She waved the surgical tape under my nose as Dante quickly untied my right pointe shoe before tugging it off. Bri then unfurled her other hand. “And some strong painkillers. Take them now.”

“Mama loves you, baby girl.” I winked at her and took the pills. Then a little hiss escaped me when Dante began to tape my toes up. A quick dry-swallow with a silent pray, and I was ready to claim my stage once more.

Everything I had dreamt about since moving to England; the big stage, the lights, the beautiful faces of the crowd staring at me in wonder…it was happening.

We were performing at the world renowned Royal Opera House, had been for the past week and a half. It was pure magic, it was the only way to describe it. The people who worked here were professional but so welcoming. My fears that the dancers who belonged to The Royal Ballet would look down their noses at us while we temporarily inhabited their world were unfounded. Everyone was supportive. My people exceled in these conditions,Iexceled in these conditions. Hand to heart, it was the best I had ever danced.

“Two minutes until curtains,” A voice warned.

We all groaned then chuckled. Would we change it? Never.Dancers were a special breed. We were special, and the glowing reviews our show had garnered only reaffirmed I had found my calling in life. Forget the late onset of and the sometimes irregular periods for us girls, or the lack of big beautiful boobies, forget the possibility of being crippled by the time we hit our forties, forget the unavoidable doom of early arthritis in the hips and ankles…hell in almost every joint, ignore the secret terrifying fear we all knew we would face of ‘what will I do once I can’t dance on stage? I’m a ballerina, Ihaveto be on stage’.

Forget it all. None of those things mattered when we danced.

“After tonight’s show, you’re going to A&E,” Dante said, his tone was just as determined as the look on his face.

I nodded then eased my pointe shoe back on. “Fine. We’re due on now.”

He pulled me to my feet and I went on tiptoes. It hurt something bad, but I could,wouldbear it. Bri was already gliding off towards her position.

Dante slipped his hand over mine and grinned in delight as he watched the dancers on stage. “We did it, sweet cheeks, we’re on our way to the top.”

I returned his grin. Mine wasn’t as bright. Yes, we had achieved a major goal, but a part of me felt hollow. There was one face I knew wouldn’t be in the crowd. One face that haunted my slumber and waking hours. Shoving the thought of my estranged husband back down, I widened the smile on my face and strode on stage with Dante at my side. Fuck it. Fuck him. I was living my dream. So what if he wasn’t there to share it with me? I didn’t need him…

A-&-freaking-E. Accident and Emergency. The hospital. My uneasiness at being within its walls still persisted, but at least it was under control. Dr Brown said I had made great strides dealing with Aunt Cleo’s hospitalization. She said I had realized that although such a setting would always hold bad memories for me, the positive outcome of my aunt being released from hospital went some ways towards counterattacking my irrational fear only bad things happened in hospitals.

Ah. Dr Brown. I had ended my sessions with her a week after Matthad thrown me out. God. How many weeks ago had it been? It was now the end of August. Too long. Anyway, I had baked her a cake to soften the blow I would no longer be fattening her bank account balance. The good doctor had taken it in her stride. Of course, she had subjected me to an interrogation which led to me reluctantly admitting Matt and I had split up. She had wanted to talk about it, I had pointed out the extra whipped frosting and sprinkles on her cake. I did miss our sessions though. She would always tell me to face my issues head on and stop packing them up in neat little boxes in my head where I kept them hidden. Well, I had a new box in my head, pushed behind everything else, and courtesy of one Matt Bradley.

“Parmindar Kampur?” one of the on-duty doctors called out. The sweet looking Indian lady seated next to me stood up and was beckoned away.

Damn it. Hadn’t I arrived before her? I looked around the waiting area. It wasn’t as busy as I feared it would be, but there were still quite a fair bit of people waiting to be seen to. The NHS was always going on about reducing waiting times. A quick peak at my cell confirmed my half-an-hour wait so far would only get longer. Maybe I should have taken Dante up on his offer to accompany me instead of forcing him to stay behind and schmooze with the patrons. The painkillers were still working though. Sighing softly I decided to play a game on my phone, might as well get my game on. Fifteen minutes later I was silently cussing out my cell when someone walked up to the Reception area with a lovely bunch of roses. Someone who turned to cast a quick glance over the waiting area –shit!What the- Dougal McGregor. He spotted me even as I slouched down in the plastic chair and lowered my head. From wide eyes I watched him stride over, his steps were confident but his face held unmistakeable uncertainty. What the fuck was he doing here?

“Hello, Madi,” Dougie held the bouquet out to me. “I got these for ye.”

I took the flowers because I was too shocked to speak. Dougie sat down next to me, leaning forward slightly with his forearms resting on his legs and hands clasped tightly together as he watched me from the side.

“Just my luck,” he continued, noting my silence and perhaps wanting to fill it. “I finally manage to work up the courage to speak toye and ye leave right after the performance.” He sent me a crooked smile. Dougie appeared nervous, really nervous. And I hadn’t yet recovered from my surprise to respond. “I’ve been meaning to speak to ye since opening night but,” He shrugged and that crooked smile of his deepened as he took a deep breath. “Are ye going to talk to me?”

I blinked a few times and buried my face in the soft petals. The last time we saw each other it had ended with an unwanted kiss and a ruined friendship. This was awkward, but the roses were nice.

“I wanted to apologize to ye, face to face,” Dougie said, lowering his voice slightly. “I’ve been coming each night to the show, and each night I’d say to myself, just go up and talk to the wee lass, man.” He unclasped his hands before running one through his brown hair. It had grown since I last saw him. Those hazel orbs of his searched my features for some indication of my emotions. “How are ye, lass? I read about Bradley and-”

“Why are you here, Dougie?” I cut him off quickly in an attempt to avoid discussing the things that had recently been in the papers. “How did you find me?”

“I told ye,” Dougie straightened up in the seat. “To apologize. And Dante told me where ye were. It was nice catching up with them. Liam’s still a gobby little shite.”

Fighting a tiny grin, I nodded in agreement, neither one of us spoke for a minute or two and it was awkward with a neon capital ‘A’.

Dougie exhaled gruffly then swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Madi. What I did that night – I was – it was wrong of me to put ye in that situation. I might have been a wee bit drunk.”

My eyebrows shot up. Should I be insulted? Alcohol? That was his excuse? So if sober would he not have planted a wet one on me and professed his love? “Well, I always knew you were a crazy Scot.”

Dougie started to grin at my tone.

“I mean,” I continued. “You crossed a line, Dougie.”

The growing humour on his face suffered an abrupt death. “I know.” He fidgeted, his unease was clear to see. “I miss ye.”

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