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A Home at Honeysuckle Farm by Christie Barlow (20)

The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky as I ambled up the path of Wild Rose Cottage. I really wanted to catch Sam before I made my way over to the dance school but when I glanced over towards his cottage, the curtains were still drawn and there was no sign of life. It would have to wait until later.

Within minutes the school was in sight and my heart began to pound a little faster when I noticed a figure skulking at the side of the building. Squinting ahead, I was relieved to discover it was only Bert, who was acting very strangely.

‘Morning, Bert,’ I chirped. ‘Why are you being very cloak and dagger?’

‘Huh?’

‘Hiding at the side of the building,’ I said, fishing the keys out of my bag.

‘I can’t be seen. Dorothy is already on the warpath, wondering where I’m sneaking off to.’ His voice was low.

Glancing up the street, there wasn’t a soul around. ‘I think it’s safe to come out, Bert, there’s no one in sight.’

‘Good … good,’ he said, repositioning his cap on his head and taking a look up the street for himself. ‘But you never know, she has the habit of popping up when you least expect it. She gave me that look … you know, when I left the house.’

‘Dorothy?’

‘Yes, Dorothy. The look where she narrows her eyes and I feel guilty for even breathing,’ he chuckled. ‘Do you know how difficult it is to sneak out, even at my age? That woman must have some sort of psychic powers, knowing when I’m up to something.’

‘I think that’s just called being a woman,’ I grinned at a flustered Bert, who sidestepped into the foyer like a dancing ninja once the door was open.

After flicking on the lights, Bert followed me through the entrance hall into the main rehearsal room. He slung his coat on the back of a chair and placed his flat cap on a table before ruffling his hand through his hair. I walked to the far end of the room and opened the blinds, allowing the sunlight to flood the room.

As I turned back around, I caught Bert eyeing himself up in the mirror.

‘These mirrors don’t do much for my self-confidence,’ he admitted, breathing in and holding in his stomach. Turning a little red in the face, he exhaled and a coughing fit quickly followed.

‘The things I do for that lady,’ he murmured once he’d recovered, wiping his mouth with a hanky and twisting his body from side to side, scrutinising it from all different angles in the mirror.

‘Everyone should have a Bert in their life,’ I smiled with amusement, setting up my iPad on a nearby table. ‘So, the foxtrot, you say.’

‘Dorothy’s favourite dance,’ he answered, finally taking his eyes off the mirror and turning his attention back to me.

‘Let’s start with a few warm-up exercises. I don’t want you pulling a muscle before we’ve begun.’

‘Could you imagine how I’d explain that one away?’

‘And then we’ll shake ourselves out.’

‘Sounds painful,’ said Bert in a playful tone.

For the next five minutes, I took Bert through a series of exercises to warm up his muscles. He already looked frazzled as he wiped away a bead of sweat from his brow, and we hadn’t even begun dancing yet.

‘Let’s start with basics.’ I pulled my jumper over my head and slipped my feet into a pair of heels which I’d brought with me. ‘Are you ready?’

‘I think so,’ he smiled, his watchful eyes observing my every move.

‘The foxtrot is a smooth dance and we travel round the floor in a clockwise direction,’ I began.

‘Noted,’ replied Bert, hanging on to my every word.

‘The way we count the foxtrot is slow, slow, quick, quick, where the slow takes up two beats and the quick takes up one. The man, that’s you …’

‘It was, last time I looked,’ interrupted Bert.

‘The men start with the left and take two walks forward, side step and then close … like this.’ I demonstrated the moves, my heels echoing on the wooden floor as I moved. ‘Then the ladies start with their right foot and they take two walks back, a side step then close. Got that?’

‘I think so,’ replied Bert, his gaze firmly focused on my feet.

‘Up you get, put your arms out, imagine you’re holding Dorothy while you practise your steps.’

‘Like this?’ asked Bert, standing in the middle of the floor.

I nodded, ‘Now forward with the left.’

Bert put his wobbly foot forward.

‘Then side with the left, like this.’

Bert copied me.

‘Close right foot to left and then we do it all again.’

After a few more attempts it was coming back to Bert and he was smoothly co-ordinating the steps with a daft grin on his face.

‘I feel wonderful, this is wonderful,’ he said, stretching his arms wider. ‘I feel like I’m a young man again.’

Just seeing the twinkle in Bert’s eyes and the enjoyment written all over his face made my heart swell.

‘Keep it going, and remember, clockwise around the room.’

Once Bert had mastered his steps, he watched me while I performed the ladies’ part.

‘Pretend I’m Dorothy,’ I smiled as I took my position in the middle of the room. ‘Dorothy will put her weight on her left foot, right foot free, then back with the right foot, back with the left foot, then side with the right and close left to right and again. Shall we try together?’

‘Yes,’ agreed Bert, taking his place opposite me.

‘Basically, now you lead and I follow.’

‘Dorothy won’t like that, you know,’ he teased, ‘she wears the trousers in our house and I’ve always had to follow her lead.’ He gave a light-hearted chuckle at his own joke.

‘Well, enjoy your moment, Bert, because for three whole minutes you’ll get your chance to shine, and for once Dorothy will have to take your lead.’

‘I’ve waited fifty years for that moment.’

I couldn’t help but feel warmth towards Bert. Even though he played the hen-pecked husband, it was obvious to anyone that his love for Dorothy was very much alive and kicking.

‘Okay, lead and follow. Apply pressure from your frame. Lead Dorothy into those walks.’ I was really enjoying myself and my mood had certainly been lifted since last night. My mind began to tick while I put Bert through his paces, and Grace’s words whirled in my mind: ‘Do what you want to do. You only have one life, so live it. Be happy.’

Bert was concentrating hard, mumbling the steps under his breath.

‘When you move to the side, take me with you,’ I shouted out clearly as we began to dance around the room. ‘You need to connect with Dorothy and apply a little more pressure from your whole body, then step and do the walks. Take her to the side from the right and gently bring her along with you from your frame … That’s it, Bert, nice and smooth … perfect!’

‘I’ve got it, I’ve got it … it’s all coming back to me,’ the joy in Bert’s voice made my heart melt. His wrinkled face was alight with excitement and his cheeks were aglow. He glided smoothly over the floor, taking me with him.

‘Shall we try this to some music?’ I suggested now that Bert had the hang of things.

As the music filtered from my iPad we took our positions and as soon as I counted Bert in, he began to lead. At first, he stumbled a little, found it difficult to step in time with the music, but gently I talked him through it.

‘We don’t want any stops in the body as we move through the feet. Keep your knees flexed and extend the leg and roll on to it, side and close. Try not to step and stop,’ I instructed softly. Bert listened to every word and the determination showed on his face. After a couple more attempts he understood and we were soon gliding around the dance floor until the music stopped.

‘I didn’t want that to end,’ breathed Bert, catching his breath, ‘that felt magical.’ His eyes were watery with emotion.

‘I can’t wait to see Dorothy’s face when you take her by her hand and lead her up on that stage.’

‘Dorothy …’ he exclaimed, checking his watch. ‘We’ve been over an hour. I’d best hurry, otherwise she’ll be giving my lunch to the dog.’

‘I didn’t know you had a dog.’

‘We haven’t,’ he laughed, placing his cap swiftly back on his head and slipping his arms through the sleeves of his jacket. ‘Alice … I can’t thank you enough for your patience. You’re such a kind-hearted girl, giving up your time to help me.’

‘You don’t need to thank me, it’s been a pleasure.’

‘You are such a fantastic teacher. Can we go over it a couple more times before the big day?’

‘Of course,’ I answered, having enjoyed every second of the lesson. Teaching Bert had left me feeling uplifted, giving me the confidence boost I needed. Maybe this was the way forward, doing something I was good at.

He took my hands and squeezed them tight. ‘My Dorothy’s face is going to be a picture. She needs some cheering up at the minute.’

‘Why?’ I asked, releasing myself from his grip and stuffing my jumper inside my bag.

He sighed. ‘She takes on too much, that one. It’s this Village Day, you see. I don’t know why she takes it upon herself to organise it every year, it will be the death of her.’ He raised his bushy eyebrows, ‘This year there’s no one to bring the day to an end – there won’t be a grand finale.’

‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

He paused for a moment. ‘Stella’s son was booked, she’s Dorothy’s friend from the WI. He’s been on TV, one of those talent programmes – a magician, she said. But he’s cancelled at the last minute and now she’s searching high and low for a replacement, but at short notice everyone is busy.

‘When is it, again?’

‘A couple of weeks’ time. Not much time to book another act. The WI are up in arms – you’d think it was her fault this magician guy had cancelled.’

‘Let’s focus on the positives. At least they will have you twirling Dorothy around that stage.’

‘There is that,’ he forced a smile, but I could see he was upset about the strain it was putting on Dorothy.

‘Anyway, I’d best be off, and remember, this is our little secret.’ Bert tapped his nose and disappeared through the door.

The second Bert left the building my mind began to whirl. Was this meant to be? As I packed up my iPad a smile hitched itself on my face.

After locking up the dance school I whistled my way back to Wild Rose Cottage. My mind flitted back to Dorothy’s dilemma and I’d begun to have a crazy thought. What if … what if …?

‘What are you smiling at?’ Grace’s head was poking out of the bedroom window of the cottage as I pushed open the garden gate.

Looking up, I said, ‘Put the kettle on and I’ll tell you all about it.’

‘Oooh, intrigued, I’m on it!’

Grace was sitting opposite me with a goofy grin while hugging her tea. ‘Alice, you are a genius, that’s a brilliant idea. Have you run it past Dorothy?’ The praise was coming thick and fast.

I shook my head. ‘But is it biting off more than I can chew? There’s only two weeks to organise this.’

Grace thought over my madcap idea for all of a second. ‘I’ll help, and we can rope Mum in too, she loves things like this. All hands to the deck.’ Grace was clapping her hands together like a demented sea lion. ‘Gushing friend moment coming up,’ Grace warned me as she stood up and flung her arms around me.

Brook Bridge Goes Strictly!’ she announced. ‘I can see it now, all the WI in their sequinned sparkly dresses … pirouetting their way around the stage in front of the judges … Can I be a judge? Please let me be a judge!’ She gave me a lopsided grin and placed her hands in a prayer -like stance. Grace was running away with herself now.

‘But what about the men, where are we going to find the men from?’ I interrupted, racking my brains. ‘I’m up for the challenge but it’s going to be difficult enough teaching the women to dance from scratch in a couple of weeks, never mind finding a group of men and persuading them to take part too. Then there’s the costumes et cetera, et cetera.’

‘I can see your point.’ Grace sat back down, her thinking face was apparent.

She exhaled sharply. ‘OMG, I’ve got it.’ Her eyes were wide and danced with excitement. ‘What about if we rope in Sam?’

‘Sam? Why Sam?’

‘Think about it, most of Sam’s friends are my friends and what do they do for a living? Dance! Each lady can be whisked off her feet by a handsome, good-looking man, and all in the name of charity.’

‘I’m not sure, Grace,’ I said, feeling a little dubious and knowing that Sam wasn’t Dorothy’s favourite man about town.

‘You would have time to teach the ladies and the men will take care of themselves. No one would know Sam was even involved, if that’s what you are worried about.’

‘It’s not me that’s worried, I’d love to have Sam on board. It would certainly help me out,’ I answered, turning it over in my mind.

‘Shall I ask him?’

I took a moment. ‘No, let me.’

‘Okay, your call, but do it today, let’s get this show on the road,’ she said with such passion, humming the Strictly Come Dancing theme tune while dancing her way around the kitchen. I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, while thinking about this morning. I’d really enjoyed teaching Bert today. Maybe this was my calling and co-ordinating Brook Bridge Goes Strictly would help me decide whether I was up to the job of teaching a group of people. Turning my thoughts to Sam, I knew asking him to help out would certainly solve a problem, but would he really be willing to help the community out, especially when he’d been receiving the cold shoulder from most of them?

‘Grace … this could be just the thing for Sam.’

‘Huh?’ she answered, perplexed.

‘If Sam was on board, wouldn’t this be the perfect way to reunite the community, look to the future and hopefully for him to be accepted – especially by Dorothy and Bert, and maybe even Ben?’

‘Alice Parker … you may have a point.’

‘Okay, I’ll talk to Sam and then share my idea with Dorothy.’

‘She’ll be made up; Village Day is saved!’

For the first time in a long while, I felt I had a purpose, a direction. All I had to do now was convince Sam about my idea.

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