27. Sarah
27. Sarah
Eileen tells us to take it from the top, and just as she hits ‘play’ Carl’s strong hand grabs my arm. He looks at me as if he is asking permission. I nod, and he takes my hand and holds it tight.
His bright blue eyes lock on to mine and immediately the room feels charged, as if it is spinning away with just the two of us in it. A sort of twinned energy flows through us. We are completely one. Even our breathing is in time.
I get so caught up in the two of us dancing together that I am barely even aware of Jenni and Cherub being in the room. With Carl smiling at my side, and sunlight flooding the hall, I could dance all afternoon.
‘Yes! That’s it,’ yells Eileen happily.
It is , I think to myself. This is it.
A peacefulness washes over me. My shoulder – which has been throbbing non-stop since Danny flung me against the kitchen wall – no longer hurts. I don’t feel exhausted from lack of sleep. Or bitter at the thought of Danny sleeping off his hangover, knowing that when he wakes he won’t remember a thing.
I don’t feel angry or hurt or anxious or taken for granted. I just feel happy. And, for the first time in a long while, I dare to feel optimistic. I tell myself there has to be a way for me to leave Danny without turning my back on him and Annie. I just need to talk to her. Tell her how much I love them both – that that will never change. I just can’t keep on pretending Danny and I are still a couple.
Then I’ll talk to Carl, make him understand that things with Danny are over. See if there is a chance for me and him.
Swirling and swaying, I tap my feet and lose myself in the rhythm of the music.
But then, all too soon, it’s over. Eileen announces she has to be somewhere else, wraps herself dramatically in her enormous fur coat, and disappears out of the door.
‘Drink?’ Jenni suggests. ‘We could go next door to the clubhouse and grab one? Dad’s got the kids, so there’s no rush to get back.’
‘Definitely. I’m up for it.’ Carl grins.
High on adrenaline still, the four of us walk through the community centre and out into the adjoining club and bar. The room is packed, a Friday night buzz in the air at the promise of the weekend to come.
For a moment Carl looks overwhelmed but then Cherub, who has noticed his expression, takes charge. He finds us a table to sit at, then goes to the bar to get a round in.
Carl starts to relax.
Cherub returns with a tray of drinks. ‘So,’ he says, after taking an enormous gulp of beer. ‘Who knew Carl was such a talented danzetore?’
‘Danze what?’ Jenni splutters as her gin and tonic goes down the wrong way. She makes a strange gurgling sound.
‘Danzetore. Snakehips. Twinkletoes.’ Cherub laughs.
‘Shut up,’ Carl says, laughing too.
‘I’m serious,’ Cherub counters. ‘Those legs of yours would look amazing in a pair of ballet tights.’
‘He’s right,’ Jenni joins in. ‘You were quite the compelling spectacle on the dance floor.’
‘Eileen clearly thought so,’ Cherub adds.
Carl puts down his pint and thrusts his shoulders back. ‘It’s all in the way you carry your upper body,’
At which point we all laugh even harder.
‘You do have a magnificent upper body,’ Jenni says, reaching out to pat his chest.’
‘She’s clearly drunk,’ Cherub says, pushing her gin and tonic away from her. ‘She doesn’t know what she’s saying.’
And so the evening wears on.
The events of last night melt away as I remember how it feels to laugh with friends. To relax. Tease one another, knowing no one will take offence when none was meant. Lash out for no reason.
I’m so tired of it all. I try not to be, but I am. I’m tired of having to be so careful all the time. Mindful of what I say. Of what I do. Of what we watch, where we go, who we see. And I’m tired of being tired.
Carl stands up to go for another round of drinks. But there are so many people around us, and we are squashed together so tightly, he loses his balance and sits back down. He puts his hand on my thigh to steady himself.
‘Sorry,’ he says, but he doesn’t move his hand. He sits there for a moment, staring at me.
Blood fizzes through my veins and my cheeks feel as if they are on fire.
‘Are you getting those drinks, or what?’ Cherub yells over the chatter around us.
Carl smiles at me and squeezes my thigh. It is the faintest squeeze but it makes me feel intoxicated.
‘On my way,’ he says. He turns, and I smile.
I watch his back as he disappears towards the bar.
Suddenly he stops dead in his tracks.
I know, without him having to turn around, that something is wrong.