Page 95 of Never Tear Us Apart
‘I beg your pardon?’ I ask him, bemused.
‘Action approaching at speed.’ He nods at the door, where Danny Beauchamp has just arrived, a different cap under his arm and turned out as sharp as a new pin.
I knew I was attracted to scruffy, unshaven, unkempt him, but now the sight of him makes me go a little bit weak at the knees.
‘Will you take evasive action or attack?’ says Warby.
My first instinct is to wave frantically at Danny, which I then decide is far too presumptuous and uncool, at exactly the moment he spots me in the crowd with my hand at half-mast.
His eyes widen a little, and he smiles, waving at me as if we’re kids in a playground.
‘He’s coming over,’ Warby observes. ‘Christina has told me to make myself scarce and to give you this.’ He presses a key into my hand
‘What’s it for?’ I ask.
‘Key to her place. She and I are lodging elsewhere tonight. Just in case you need a bit of privacy, you know.’
‘Oh.’ I look down at the key in my palm, my cheeks blazing scarlet, just as Danny reaches my side.
‘Maia Borg, as I live and breathe,’ he says. ‘Damn, but you look beautiful.’
‘You don’t look so bad yourself,’ I say, tucking the key inside my bag, not quite able to meet his gaze.
‘I missed you,’ Danny tells me.
I smile. ‘I saw you not long ago.’
‘Yes, and I’ve missed you since.’ He lowers his mouth to my ear.
‘I’m here,’ I say finally, summoning the courage to look at him. ‘This is where I am now.’ We hold each other’s gaze for a moment, and a smile plays on his lips.
‘Will you dance with me?’ he asks, offering me his hand.
‘I really can’t dance,’ I tell him. ‘No one ever taught me how.’
Christina steps into the spotlight and begins to sing solo, something called ‘When the Lights Go On Again’, full of sentiment and longing. Couples pair off, embracing as they walk onto the floor and dance close together. Heads rest on shoulders; eyes close; fingers link as the whole room seems to move in unison.
‘All you have to do is let me hold you in my arms,’ Danny says. ‘I’ll do the rest, I promise.’
‘Well, on your toes be it,’ I say.
Taking his hand, I let him lead me to the dance floor. I don’t think I’m imagining the murmur that runs through the crowd as people spot us hand in hand – or the succession of heads that turn to follow our progress. Whispers are exchanged, alongside a few notes and coins. None of that matters the moment I am in Danny’s embrace.
His hand rests on the small of my back; I feel the heat of him radiate through the thin satin. With a small, knotted smile, he takes one of my hands and places it on his shoulder; the other he holds in his, gently bringing my body flush against his. His eyes find mine.
‘Trust me,’ he murmurs. ‘My ma made me take dance lessons after school for a full year.’
We begin to dance, if you can call it that. I guess this is a waltz or something, but whatever it is, it doesn’t seem to matter, because it’s as if Danny has magically transmitted the steps I need to take directly to my feet. Somehow, everything falls into place as he twirls me around the dance floor, and I wonder if there is another me in another universe lending me her dancing prowess for a minute or two.
Christina’s voice soars and dips, each word laden with longing. The band swings the tune with a perfect sense of aching melancholy, and the more I dance, the more my body melds into Danny’s. I luxuriate in discovering the lines of his torso and hips, the curve of his thighs, the landscape of his jaw-line. I feel him take in a deep breath and release a long sigh of longing. His lips graze the top of my head, and I allow my cheek to rest on his shoulder, where I can feel the rapid beat of his heart transmitted along his collarbone. He smells of soap and engine oil. His skin is warm and dry. There’s a hollow just beneath his ear that I long to kiss.
When the song ends, it is all too soon, especially as the band transitions into something much more upbeat as theWhizz Bangs take their bows. The other dancers erupt into a frenetic whirling, twirling dance all around us.
Danny and I just stand there, perfectly still, not ready for the moment to be over, reluctant to let each other go. Eventually, we pull apart and make our way through the joyful dancers that fill the floor.
‘Want some air?’ Danny asks me, suddenly very serious and solemn.
‘I do,’ I say. ‘But I can’t yet . . .’
