The Spark - Jules Wake Page 0,80

was going to finish me off. All this soppiness was doing a number on me. I edged closer to Sam and put my arm through his, squeezing it and revelling in the delicious happiness that permeated every cell in my body. It was a glad-to-be-alive and of-the-moment sort of day that I was going to cherish for ever. The first dance came to an end, but the quartet immediately began to play a new piece and Gladys and Alastair danced on, Dodie and Freddie joining in.

‘Want to dance?’ asked Sam.

‘I’d love to,’ I sighed, enviously. ‘It looks wonderful.’

He slipped an arm around my waist and took my hand, sweeping me into a traditional ballroom hold.

‘You know how?’ I squeaked.

‘Private school. The only time we fraternised with the girls at the school next door. Don’t worry, just hang on to me.’ He grinned down with typical Sam self‐confidence.

I knew the steps but I’d just never actually executed them with a partner. You don’t watch fifteen seasons of Strictly Come Dancing without having a sneaky practice in the lounge on a Saturday night. Even so, I had to concentrate really hard on the one, two, three, one, two, three, and it was a struggle not to mouth the count as we danced.

‘Relax, we’ve got this.’ Sam’s warm breath brushed my ear. ‘I’m supposed to lead you.’

And suddenly it clicked, and I did relax against his warm, familiar body, enjoying the heady rush of delight at the two of us dancing as one. Just Sam and me, completely in sync, our eyes locked on each other, his big capable hand holding mine while his other at my waist steered me with gentle nudges. It was almost better than sex, being perfectly in tune with each other, and my heart soared as we glided around the lawn, conscious of the music and Sam’s smiling regard. When the final notes died away, we stayed in each other’s arms, a little stunned and reluctant to return to reality. A bit like when you’ve lost yourself in a really wonderful film at the cinema and then you step outside onto the crowded pavements to the intrusion of the noise and bustle of real life.

‘You’re quite a dancer, Mr Weaverham.’

‘So are you. We must do it again sometime.’

I smiled up at him a little dreamily. A beautiful fantasy. Tea dances weren’t exactly all the rage in Tring, or not that I knew of.

Trays of pink champagne were being circulated by rather youthful, fresh-faced staff who looked as if they’d been drafted in from the local sixth form, and people were starting to make their way to congratulate the happy couple. There were probably about a hundred and fifty people, which was far more than I’d been expecting. Everyone was starting to mingle, and I noticed that Shelley was talking to the tall, handsome parachutist who’d come down with Gladys and I smiled to myself. Good old Shelley, but when we drifted past, circulating, she reached out and grabbed my arm, almost spilling my champagne.

‘Jess,’ she said urgently. ‘This is Fraser. This is my cousin, Jessica, and her boyfriend, Sam.’

She looked absolutely terrified and was still clinging to my arm as if she wanted to sidle behind me.

‘You’re a brave man,’ I said. ‘That was some entrance. Do you do many weddings?’

Fraser laughed. ‘This was my first. Although I might branch out.’ He had a faint American twang to his accent.

‘He’s a Falcon,’ said Shelley. ‘I mean, an RAF Falcon. Not a bird. A parachute … man. They fly out of Brize Norton. Or I suppose drop out of. But not dropouts. Out of planes.’ Poor Shelley’s cheeks flamed. ‘Excuse me. I need to go to the loo.’ With that she dashed off.

‘She OK?’ asked Fraser.

‘Mm, yes, er, I think so,’ I said, staring rather bemusedly after my go-get-’em take-no-prisoners cousin. ‘I’m not sure what’s wrong with her.’ Sam and I shared a quick frown.

Fraser grinned and looked quite pleased with himself. ‘I think I mighta frightened her off.’

‘Well, you’d be the first,’ I said, still puzzled by Shelley’s behaviour.

‘Cool, that’s good to hear.’

I was so surprised by his response I blurted out, ‘Why?’ and I felt Sam stiffen behind me.

A slow smile spread across his handsome American movie-star face. ‘Means I’m having some effect on her. She’s quite something.’

‘She is,’ I said, fixing him with a stern look. ‘And she’s had enough crap from men in her life. I’m sure you’ll have the pick of the party here,