took a sip of Orangina as Yazz came to an end.
What was next on the playlist? Emma grabbed her book and put it up to her face as Roxette’s ‘It Must Have Been Love’ began to filter out of the speakers.
Slow music would clear the dance floor. She knew the drill. Tasha and Melody and the other cool girls would slink to the edge of the room and lean seductively against the wall. They would chew the ends of their hair and look disinterested. Then very slowly, one by one, they would pair off with their male counterparts.
She smelt him before she saw him. That mix of sandalwood and perspiration, a trace of lemon and freshly baked baguettes. For a second she let her eyes flick over the top of the book and there he was, standing in front of her.
‘Would you like to dance?’
He looked hopeful. He looked like he really wanted to dance, not like the desperate, can’t-really-be-arsed-but-I-might-get-to-grope-you kind of look she was used to from the boys at home. His hands were coupled together and he was twisting his forefingers.
‘No thank you. I mean… non, merci. I don’t really dance,’ Emma replied quickly.
‘Yes you do! She loves dancing! Go on, love, don’t you mind me. You go and dance,’ Mike urged.
Guy was looking at her. She felt like Tasha and Melody and the whole room were looking at her. She had no choice. She just wished she didn’t fancy him quite so much. She could tell what sort of guy he was, a love-them-and-leave-them type, and she didn’t want that. She wanted to be special, not one in a line of summer romances.
He stretched out a tanned hand to her and her dad nudged her in the ribs and snatched The Canterbury Tales out of her hands.
She took Guy’s hand and let him lead her to the dance floor. She almost heard Tasha’s chin hit the floor.
She felt like Baby in Dirty Dancing. The square, educated girl, inexperienced in all things cool. And Guy was her Johnny Castle. The hippest boy at the campsite, the one person every girl wanted to lock lips with.
He put both of his arms around her waist and she followed his lead. He was hot and his skin was damp and dewy, but it was his eyes she couldn’t stop looking at. They were mesmerising, hypnotic, soul-seeing.
There they were, dancing chest to chest in the middle of the floor, only three other couples on the peripheral. And Emma could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing but the heat from him. And there was that look in his eyes.
He took one of her hands from behind his back, placed it on his chest and covered it with his own. He lowered his face towards hers and Emma’s breath caught in her throat.
‘Will you teach me the Chaucer?’ he whispered.
‘I don’t know, I…’ Emma replied, trying to ignore how pleasurable his breath was in her ear.
‘You say you are not sure you like him. I think you enjoy him and… I would like to know what it is you enjoy,’ Guy continued.
‘He talks funny,’ Emma said.
‘So do I,’ Guy answered, looking at her.
She could feel his heart beating under the thin cotton of his white short-sleeved shirt and she swallowed. She couldn’t take her eyes from him. The line of stubble on his top lip and along his jaw. His long straight nose, slightly too large for his face. The dark hair falling over his eyes. She swallowed and nodded her head.
‘You will teach me?’ he asked, his expression animated.
‘We can teach each other,’ Emma responded, a tentative edge to her voice.
‘You want to learn French?’ Guy inquired.
‘No,’ Emma answered, her brown eyes challenging him for a response.
‘It’s non,’ Guy whispered in reply.
Chapter Seven
Present Day
He was sat opposite her. He would get to look at her beauty for the entire meal. Now he had seen her again, he never wanted to take his eyes from hers. His hands were trembling, his whole body was aching. He felt how he used to feel when he thought that love and happy-ever-afters were possible. She knew a little about his past; she was the only woman who knew anything about that black time. She had been the light. She was the hope he’d clung on to until he’d had to leave it all behind. She had never given him a chance to explain. But then, he hadn’t really deserved one. Would he have told her the truth