Chapter 6 First Steps #2
“I’m thinking most kids aren’t sure what is and isn’t appropriate when you’re learning to dance—especially after watching the dance shows on TV. Maybe a few parents have noticed their offspring are uncomfortable and show up to see for themselves.”
“And think there’s nothing to it?”
“Jack, I have even less data than you. I came home Friday night to find you giving dance lessons in the dining room. Which was fun to watch, but not—perhaps—something you’d want to do every week for the next couple of months.
So I’m going to talk to the Head, get them back into the class, and then I’m going along to watch. That’s all I have so far.”
Jack drew close until they were chest to chest. “Don’t sound so defensive. I’m not arguing.” He leaned a little more to rub their cheeks together in a move that never failed to send warmth into Gareth’s belly. “I’d love to hear what Fenton has to say, but if we both turn up, he’ll panic.”
Gareth tightened his arms around Jack’s waist, hearing everything Jack didn’t say. “I’ll memorise his responses. And if there’s need, you go next time.”
Jack leaned into the hug. “Deal.”
Jack returned to their bedroom dressed for a day at work, finding the room tidy, Gareth gone, and the last hint of his cologne mixing with the mouthwatering scent of bacon drifting through the open window.
Jack wondered why the aromas of coffee and toast didn’t pervade the house like the smell of bacon…
and then pushed the thought aside as he did most mornings.
He didn’t need to smell dark roast Java to know Gareth had flipped the switch on the coffeemaker.
He did that every time he was the first one down in the morning, just as Jack put on the kettle and put out the teapot when he was up before Gareth.
Neither Nico nor Daniel were Monday people. When Jack made it downstairs, he found Daniel slumped over the table, while Nico stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking mutinous.
“Problem?” he enquired, setting his laptop bag beside the doorway.
“Gareth wants to get us back into the dance class,” Nico muttered. “I’m sure you know that.”
“He told me, yes.”
“What if I don’t want to go back?”
Jack considered that. “Dance class isn’t compulsory.”
“Good, because Manville is vile,” Daniel added in a low voice. “He… He gets off on making people feel like shit. And he’s deaf to no.”
Jack—on the way to the coffeemaker and the full carafe on the hotplate—changed course, so he could put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “We don’t dispute that.”
“Don’t you?”
Jack heard the discomfort in Nico’s challenge. Gareth didn’t.
“Nico, that’s uncalled for. When you say someone makes you uncomfortable, we believe you.”
“Then why are you trying to make us go back?”
Gareth took the pan off the heat and turned around. “Because when you picked the class, you did it for a reason. Are you no longer interested in going to the ball?”
“I didn’t want to go in the first place.” Nico was all bristles.
“I did,” Daniel admitted. “Jess wanted to go, and I thought it’d be fun to learn the old-fashioned dances. I don’t want to spoil her fun.”
“That’s why I thought Jack can teach us to waltz,” Nico said. “We’ve done foxtrot and jive and rumba. It’s only waltz and tango left.” He turned to catch Jack’s gaze. “You can tango, right?”
Nico stood half in front of Daniel, arms crossed tight over his chest, while Daniel was making himself as small as possible.
Jack hadn’t seen the two like this in a long time, and it bothered him.
He turned and crossed to the coffeemaker to interrupt the brewing argument, fingers brushing the small of Gareth’s back as he passed.
Warning or grounding, he couldn’t have said, but Gareth reacted to the touch, remembered he was cooking breakfast.
They set the table in silence. Scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, butter, and jam took their accustomed places, and Jack waited until the boys were eating before he resumed the discussion.
“Nico, is it just Manville who’s bothering you or is there something else?”
Nico didn’t answer right away, which was answer enough. “Mr Fenton won’t believe you,” he said in the end, eyes fixed on his plate. “He ignores trouble until it’s grown big enough to bury him. You know this.” They all did. And Nico carried the scar from standing up to a school bully.
Jack remembered Gareth’s mother suggesting the boys change schools once Nico had been released from the hospital, but by then they’d made friends and hadn’t wanted to start over. Why was it that your best intentions always bit you in the arse?
“I agree he’ll downplay what happened,” Gareth said to Nico. “He’ll sell it to me as a minor disagreement, or both sides overreacting at the end of a busy week.”
“Then why bother talking to him?”
“Because Gareth isn’t Mr Fenton. He doesn’t like to let problems fester.”
“Accurate.” Gareth poured himself another cup of tea. “I also want it on record that we raised concerns and tried to resolve the matter. I’d assumed you wanted to finish the dance lessons, but if you feel you can’t do that—”
“I can do it.” Daniel’s words were positive. His tone wasn’t.
“You shouldn’t have to go back to that class.” Nico wasn’t done arguing. “And we shouldn’t put Daniel through this shit to make a point.”
“Definitely not.” Jack saw Gareth’s eyes reflect his own alarm and resolved to turn Barrington Manville’s life inside out. “Daniel, maybe—”
“No.” Daniel shook his head. “If Gareth can get us back into the class, I’m going.
I promised Jess. And Carol’s already bought her ball dress.
And… and… It’s only a few more weeks.” Daniel came across as the more malleable of the two boys, but he could be as mulish and immovable as Nico when he put his mind to it.
They all knew it, and none of them argued.