CHAPTER TWELVE
After all the worry and frantic hard work, the opening of Magic of Dance had been more glorious than I could ever have imagined.
I’d made a welcome speech in the morning when a good crowd had gathered and I’d introduced my wonderful Great-Aunt Freda, who’d been my inspiration all along.
She’d talked a little about her much younger days, when she’d run away to New York and danced in shows there, which had been a dream come true for her.
Freda had just celebrated her eighty-ninth birthday but she was still as sharp as a tack.
My lovely gran – Freda’s younger sister – was also there to support me, and the pair had spent a lovely day enjoying the dancing displays and chatting proudly to visitors about how I’d worked so hard to make Magic of Dance a reality.
Lois was there as well, of course, with my step-mum Irene, and so was Rory’s thirteen-year-old sister Elsie, who loved dancing with a passion and adored listening to Freda’s tales of running away to New York to pursue her dream...
After all the stress beforehand, I’d ended up thoroughly enjoying the day, talking to the visitors who were milling around, and clapping madly at the dancing displays along with everyone else.
I’d even managed to find an excellent candidate for the job of managing the Little Duckling Café.
A lovely woman called Anika had seen the job advert on the wall in reception and her boyfriend Xander had spoken to me privately to tell me he thought she’d be the perfect person for the job with all her relevant experience working in the hospitality industry.
It was such a relief to think I might be able to fill the post at last. Having to look after the café myself would take me away from my true love. Dance. I’d hired two excellent teachers but I was looking forward to taking a lot of the daily classes myself.
I couldn’t believe how much happier I felt knowing that opening day had been a resounding success.
Rory had been quite right when he’d told me I was working too hard and getting too stressed about everything. But in any case, none of that mattered now because we seemed to be back on track, Rory and I.
Late that night, after everything was spick and span and ready to receive the first dance class customers the following morning, Rory and I locked up and drove over to his house, where he told me to kick off my shoes, get into my cosy pyjamas and recline on the sofa while he poured me a drink.
I relaxed with a grateful sigh and he massaged my shoulders and told me what a brilliant day it had been and how proud he was of me for bringing it all together so spectacularly.
I yawned happily as he joined me for a snuggle on the sofa.
I’d been so silly to have worried about him spending too much time with Lois. He was just being kind and supportive, which was Rory through and through.
*****
What I couldn’t have foreseen that night, lying in Rory’s arms in the blissful aftermath of that successful launch day, was that Irene – Lois’s mum – would come to me a week or so later and put more doubts about Lois into my already suspicious mind...