Page 26 of Teacakes & Tangos
I nodded. ‘They were regional winners in the Latin dance category four years in a row. Amateur only, of course. Fancy you remembering that.’
He smiled in reply. ‘So you’re not going along?’
I shook my head sadly. ‘I don’t feel like going to a jolly celebration of dance while Dad’s in hospital.’
He nodded. ‘I can understand that. All your thoughts must be focused on him right now, with little room for anything else.’
‘Exactly.’
He frowned, rubbing his nose and thinking. ‘There is, however, an argument for going along so that you can report back to your dad about it.’
I frowned, thinking about this.
‘Dance was one of his passions in life, yes?’
‘Absolutely. He’d still be dancing now if Mum was here.’
He nodded. ‘So maybe telling him all about the new dance studio would stimulate something in his brain and bring him back to you? I don’t know about the biology behind comas but don’t they say that talking to the patient is a good thing?’
I nodded eagerly. ‘They do. I talk to Dad all the time. One of the nurses told me that it can sometimes even help to say things that will kind of annoy the coma patient because that can bring a strong reaction.’
‘Annoying things?’ He looked puzzled.
‘Yes. Like once, she had a patient, a teenage boy, who’d been in a coma for a few days. His family were gathered round his bedside chatting, and the boy’s sister started talking about the tattoo he’d got recently. And one of his fingers actually moved in response. They reckoned his gran, who was there with them, hadn’t known about his tattoo and he didn’t want her to disapprove!’
Xander nodded, understanding. ‘Cool.’
‘I’m not sure I’d want to go on my own, though. To the dance opening, I mean. I’d ask Lyndsay but she works on a Saturday at the garden centre. It’s one of their busiest days.’
‘I could go with you.’
I looked at him in surprise. For once, he looked serious. ‘You would?’
‘Of course.’
I gave him a doubtful, side-eye look. ‘Careful. I might hold you to that.’
He smiled. ‘I’m kind of hoping you do.’
Clara
CHAPTER NINE
Opening day was looming ever closer and my stress levels seemed to be climbing through the roof! Especially as everything seemed to be going wrong...
First of all, there’d been a problem with the rental of the building. It had seemed for a while that the owner had changed his mind and decided to sell the converted barn instead of renting it out. Having already set my heart on it and imagined it transformed into a gorgeous dance studio, I was devastated by this, and there followed a few nail-biting weeks while we waited to hear one way or the other.
To my relief, the news was good and finally, the rental agreement was signed. There was no going back now and it felt at once scary but very exciting.
But then we had a disagreement with the landlord over my need for sprung flooring in the two dance studios. He’d already agreed to it when we’d originally discussed leasing the building for an initial five-year term, but now he was backing out and saying there was nothing in writing. It was only after I promised we’d return the floors to their original state at the eventual end of the lease that he capitulated and I was able to get the sprung flooring I wanted.
The whole wrangle over the flooring left me exhausted.
And as if that wasn’t enough, I’d hired a woman who I’d thought would be perfect to manage the Little Duckling Café but then she’d phoned a week later to say she couldn’t take the job after all.
To my growing horror, I was starting to wonder... would we even be ready to open on that day? It didn’t look like it.
But the flyers had already gone out.
