Twenties Girl

“I’d love to,” I say sweetly. “But I must just make a call. There’s a conversation I need to have.” I direct the words meaningfully at Sadie. “If I don’t have this conversation, I won’t be able to dance.”

Sulkily, Sadie descends to the pavement, and I pretend to punch a number into my phone. I’m so angry with her, I almost don’t know where to start.

“How could you just leave me like that?” I spit in an undertone. “I was completely lost!”

“No, you weren’t! You did very well. I was watching.”

“You were there?”

“I felt rather bad,” says Sadie, looking distantly over my shoulder. “I came back to see if you were all right.”

“Well, thanks a lot,” I say sarcastically. “You really helped. And now what’s all this?” I gesture at Ed.

“I want to dance!” she says with defiance. “I had to take extreme measures.”

“What have you done to him? He looks shell-shocked!”

“I made some… threats,” she says evasively.

“Threats?”

“Don’t look at me like that!” She suddenly rounds on me. “I wouldn’t need to if you weren’t so selfish. I know your career’s important, but I want to go dancing! Proper dancing! You know I do. That’s why we’re here. It’s supposed to be my evening. But you take over and I don’t get a look in! It’s not fair!”

She sounds almost tearful. And suddenly I feel bad. It was supposed to be her evening, and I did kind of hijack it.

“OK. You’re right. Come on, let’s go dancing.”

“Wonderful! We’ll have such a good time. This way…” Her spirits restored, Sadie directs me through some tiny Mayfair streets I’ve never been down before. “Nearly there… Here!”

It’s a tiny place called the Flashlight Dance Club. I’ve never heard of it. Two bouncers are standing outside, looking half asleep, and they let us in, no question.

We descend a set of dim wooden steps and find ourselves in a large room carpeted in red, with chandeliers, a dance floor, a bar, and two guys in leather trousers sitting morosely at the bar. A DJ on a tiny stage is playing some JLo track. No one’s dancing.

Is this the best Sadie could find?

“Listen, Sadie,” I mutter as Ed goes up to the neon-lit bar. “There are better clubs than this. If you really want to dance, we should go somewhere a bit more happening-”

“Hello?” A voice interrupts me. I turn to see a slim, high-cheeked woman in her fifties, wearing a black top and gauze skirt over leggings. Her faded red hair is up in a knot, her eyeliner is crooked, and she looks anxious. “Are you here for the Charleston lesson?”

Charleston lesson?

“I’m so sorry,” the woman continues. “I suddenly remembered we had an arrangement.” She stifles a yawn. “Lara, is it? You’re certainly wearing the right clothes!”

“Excuse me.” I smile, haul out my phone, and turn to Sadie.

“What have you done?” I mutter. “Who’s this?”

“You need lessons,” Sadie says unrepentantly. “This is the teacher. She lives in a little room upstairs. Normally the lessons are during the day.”

I stare at Sadie incredulously. “Did you wake her up?”

“I must have forgotten to put the appointment in my diary,” the woman is saying as I turn back. “It’s not like me-thank goodness I remembered! Out of the blue, it came to me that you would be waiting here.”

“Yes!” I shoot daggers at Sadie. “Amazing, the powers of the human brain.”

“Here’s your drink.” Ed arrives by my side. “Who’s this?”

“I’m your dance instructor, Gaynor.” She holds out her hand and Ed takes it, looking bewildered. “Have you always been interested in the Charleston?”

“The Charleston?” Ed looks mystified.

I feel a bit hysterical. The truth is, Sadie always gets her way. She wants us to dance the Charleston. We’re going to dance the Charleston. I owe it to her. And it might as well be here and now.

“So!” I smile wi

The thing about the Charleston is, it’s more energetic than you realize. And it’s really complicated. And you have to be really coordinated. After an hour, my arms and legs are aching. It’s relentless. It’s worse than my Legs Bums and Tums class. It’s like ru

“And forward and back…” the dance instructor is chanting. “And swivel those feet…”

I can’t swivel my feet anymore. They’re going to fall off. I keep confusing right and left and bashing Ed in the ear by mistake.

“Charleston… Charleston…” The music is tripping along, filling the club with its peppy beat. The two leather-trousered guys at the bar have been watching in a silent stupor since we started the lesson. Apparently dance lessons are quite common here in the evenings. But everyone wants to learn salsa, according to Gaynor. She hasn’t given a Charleston lesson for about fifteen years. I think she’s quite chuffed we’re here.

“And step and kick… wave your arms… very good!”

I’m waving my hands so hard I’m losing sensation in them. The fringes on my dress are swishing back and forth. Ed is doggedly crossing his hands back and forth over his knees. He shoots me a quick grin as I look at him, but I can tell he’s concentrating too hard to talk. He’s quite deft with his feet, actually. I’m impressed.

I glance over at Sadie, who’s dancing in bliss. She’s amazing. So much better than the teacher. Her legs are twinkling back and forth, she knows a zillion different steps, and she never seems to get out of breath.

Well. She doesn’t have any breath, let’s face it.

“Charleston… Charleston…”

Sadie catches my eyes, grins, and throws back her head in rapture. I guess it’s been a long time since she’s sparkled on the dance floor. I should have done this before. I feel really mean now. We’ll do Charleston dancing every night from now on, I resolve. We’ll do all her favorite twenties things.

The only trouble is, I’ve got a stitch. Panting, I head to the side of the dance floor. What I need to do is to get Ed to dance with Sadie. The two of them alone. Somehow. Then I really will have made her evening.

“OK?” Ed has followed me off.

“Yes. Fine.” I mop my brow with a napkin. “It’s hard work!”

“You’ve done very well!” Gaynor comes over to us and, in a sudden show of emotion, clasps our hands in turn. “You’re very promising, the pair of you! I think you could go far! Shall I see you again next week?”

“Er… maybe.” I don’t quite dare look at Ed. “I’ll call you, shall I?”

“I’ll leave the music on,” she says enthusiastically. “You can practice!”

As she goes, hurrying across the floor with her little dancer steps, I nudge Ed.

“Hey, I want to watch you. Go and dance on your own for a bit.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Go on! Please! You can do that one-two thing with your arms. I want to see how you do it. Please…”

Rolling his eyes good-humoredly, Ed heads out on the floor.

“Sadie!” I hiss, and gesture at Ed. “Quick! Your partner’s waiting!”

Her eyes widen as she realizes what I mean. In half a second she’s out there, facing him, her eyes lit up joyfully

“Yes, I’d love to dance,” I hear her saying. “Thank you so much!”

As Ed starts swinging his legs back and forth, she synchronizes with him perfectly. She looks so happy. She looks so right. Her hands are on his shoulders, her bracelets are glittering under the lights, her headdress is bobbing, the music is fizzing along, it’s like watching an old film-

“That’s enough,” says Ed suddenly with a laugh. “I need a partner.” And to my dismay, he barges right through Sadie, toward me.

I can see the shock on Sadie’s face. As she watches him leave the floor, she looks devastated. I wince, wishing so hard he could see her, that he knew…

“I’m sorry,” I mouth at Sadie as Ed drags me onto the floor. “I’m really sorry.”

We dance awhile longer, then head back to the table. I can’t help feeling exhilarated after all that effort, and Ed seems in pretty good spirits too.