The Gin O'Clock Club - Rosie Blake Page 0,79

clashed awkwardly, misjudging the space.

‘Any time,’ he said, his voice low, his eyes focused on me.

‘Good, great, excellent,’ I said, feeling ridiculous. Why was I jeopardising a professional relationship in this way? Why had I rung him in the first place?

As I walked away I felt him watching me, a gnawing sense of unease building in me, as if I had started something and I wasn’t even sure what.

Oh Cora.

Tonight was the big night we had been working towards with Luke. He had really started to improve after his fourth dance session. Arjun had stopped yelling quite so hard, and I had completely forgotten to be embarrassed and positively enjoyed being swept around the floor by this new, confident gentleman. And you really are right about his hands. I do understand now. Never too dry, never moist: they gripped me with assuredness and I thought, here’s a man any woman would be lucky to dance with.

He was lighter on his feet, relaxed and passionate. He had a determined glint in his eye, and we had toasted our session at Arjun’s apartment, cheering and getting very tiddly on a bottle of gin – this one had treacle in it! I’m fairly sure Arjun shouldn’t be drinking with his medication but there was no stopping him that evening. He had taken Luke’s progress as a personal aim and it has been wonderful to see him so cheered by things. I have been so worried about him; so frightened. And I hate keeping secrets.

We were set to make the great unveiling tonight. Margaret had been persuaded to shift things around a little and the band that normally only ever come on the third Thursday of the month had agreed to do an extra session in the hall that Friday night. Luke had told Lottie that he had signed her up for a beginner’s lesson and she had agreed to come along. Then he would wow her with his new moves. How excited we all felt when the week passed and Friday crept up.

I bought Luke a buttonhole and handed it over with a gruff ‘Good luck’. He had hugged me then, a brief, quick, one-armed hug, and I was reminded that he was someone who needed family around him. The thought made me rather emotional and I wished I had held him a little longer. Honestly, Cora, I am a changed man. It is like you dying has forced me to take over where you left off. The other day I was crying over a car insurance advert and when Geoffrey appeared to take me to golf I had to pretend I had chilli in my eye.

We had arrived early, Arjun issuing a last-minute pep talk, forcing Luke to sit opposite him as he walked him through the steps. He made the poor lad so nervous that he poured the first part of his beer down his newly washed shirt. Still, the band arrived and other couples from the club appeared. Paula was there in something feathery and startling in lime green and Margaret looked lovely in a pale pink dress that fell flatteringly below her knees. I believe you would have loved it and I told her so and then I had tears in my eyes and I had to pretend I had still got chilli on my hands when Geoffrey asked what was the matter. How did you ever get anything done with all these emotions? It is quite exhausting.

The first songs started and Luke was looking over at the clock, his newly polished shoes tapping in time to the waltz the band were playing. We had discussed things with them beforehand so they knew to hold off until Lottie arrived. Luke was clutching his mobile in his hand, the screen blank as the time ticked on. I got him another beer and we sat and watched the couples dance past us. I could tell he wasn’t really concentrating, just glancing at the door and then his phone before fixing a smile on his face for my benefit.

A whole hour passed, Cora: it was excruciating. The band took a break and Luke looked rumpled and sad, his eyes dulling as Arjun and I both crowded round him trying to ask him pointless questions about work that he fielded in monosyllables.

Where was our granddaughter?

The band returned and Luke’s face was stricken and I felt a new crack form in my heart for him. All those evenings we had spent. Now the buttonhole

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