Luna Tango

by Alli Sinclair

  ‘He’s the closest to family I’ve got. When I arrived here no one cared if I died in a gutter. Eduardo took me in and has treated me like a daughter ever since.’

  ‘He only treats you like a daughter because you won’t return his romantic overtures.’ Roberto drew his lips into a taut line. She didn’t take offence at his words, as they’d been spoken in anger. Roberto turned to her. ‘I can’t compete with him, can I?’

  ‘This is not a competition. I love Eduardo like a father, but I love you, like this.’ She leant forwards and placed a finger under his chin, guiding his lips towards hers. Pure love danced in his dark eyes. Her body ached for his touch, for his hands to caress, stroke and love her. A hunger grew inside and she kissed him harder, her eagerness quashing any fears of being caught.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, their lips explored new territory, their bodies entwined with desire. Until now, they’d held back, determined to do the right thing by Eduardo. But with their future as a couple in doubt, it was easy to give in to the feelings they’d ignored for so long, knowing this moment would pass and could never be relived.

  ‘Come to my apartment.’ His breath came out in short, shallow bursts.

  ‘I can’t—’

  ‘Please.’

  The significance of what they were doing weighed heavily on her shoulders. All she wanted was a few stolen moments with the man she loved, then she’d follow through with her commitment to Eduardo.

  Roberto kissed her one more time and she arrived at her answer.

  ‘Yes.’

  CHAPTER

  7

  Dani climbed the steps to the dance hall, grateful she’d shaken the paranoia from her last visit. Well, almost. Time and common sense had quelled fears of Iris miraculously appearing in a práctica or milonga in Buenos Aires—that was as likely as Dani joining River-dance. A small laugh slipped from her mouth.

  Carlos stopped and turned around. ‘You are all right?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.’ She made a shooing gesture and they continued to the entrance. The moment they arrived at the giant wooden doors, a familiar figure stepped from the shadows.

  ‘Nice shoes.’ Gualberto eyed off her latest purchase.

  ‘Thanks.’ Yes, they were poo brown. Yes, they were ugly, but man, were they comfortable. No need to tell Carlos, though.

  The trio entered the building, weaving their way through the halls until they reached the large courtyard and sat at the same table as the previous night. The sweet aroma of gardenias floated across the warm evening as the music started, beckoning the dancers to take to the floor and twist and turn in ways that didn’t seem humanly possible. The bandoneón still made her clench her fists.

  Dani’s gaze travelled the room, seeking grey-haired patrons— ones old enough to have frequented dance halls in the early fifties. Every spare second she’d had, and she’d had plenty due to insomnia, Dani had read up on—using actual books—Louisa Gilchrist and Eduardo Canziani. What fascinated her most, however, was the involvement of Roberto Vega, Eduardo’s protégé. The history books weren’t entirely clear on the dynamics between the trio as there was no first-hand information, but Roberto’s relationships with his mentor, Eduardo, and lover, Louisa, seemed to raise more questions than give answers.

  Their story had latched on to her imagination like a pit bull and she couldn’t shake it off, even though she should be working on the tango articles. Tonight she planned to ask patrons from that era about life back then and if someone opened up about the Canziani murder then who was she to stop them? It did fall into the history of tango piece—kind of. Also, cracking a cold case would send her career skyrocketing. She could ditch her job at the mag as well as Adam and his ex-current-whatever wife and get on with a new career and new life.

  But Dani knew she wasn’t fooling anybody, especially herself. The death of Argentina’s greatest composer remained a scar on the patriotic pride of the Argentines, so if a foreigner uncovered evidence that had been misconstrued ...

  Don’t be ridiculous, McKenna, professional investigators have worked on this case for years—why would you be the one to put it to rest?

  She had enough going on with her Tourism Argentina pieces and her personal project. Not that she’d asked Carlos questions about Iris’s private life, because every time someone mentioned her name, Dani’s brain froze. Maybe she should leave well enough alone and just do her history of tango articles. That way, her life would be less complicated and she didn’t have to worry about betraying Carlos’s trust. Even if this trip might be her only shot at obtaining an insight into what her mother was really like. Then there was the potential story behind the motorbike accident but with Carlos’s tight lips, she had more chance of cracking the Canziani case. Crap. This was getting all too hard.

  Dani turned her attention to Carlos, who rubbed his knee. He caught her looking and removed his hand, leant forwards and grabbed a glass of water. He took a sip, and stared into the dark recesses of the courtyard.

  Gualberto stood and said, ‘Please excuse me, I spy a friend I have not seen in a long time.’ He dived into the crowd and disappeared.

  Gualberto’s vanishing left Dani squirming in Carlos’s solemn presence but she reminded herself he could have fun—he’d proven it this afternoon at the shoe shop. It was nice, but also sad, to glimpse the fun Carlos that may have existed prior to the accident. She’d liked what she’d seen, but looking at him now, with rigid posture and intense eyes, Carlos laughing again could be way off in the future.

  ‘Your lesson begins now.’

  Fear flipped her stomach. ‘Okay.’

  Carlos cleared his throat. ‘The woman is the most important person of the couple. The woman should only move if the man creates a desire in her to do so. She must trust the leader at all times and the leader must deal with her reality and he should adjust his movements for her.’

  ‘I thought it was a macho dance.’

  ‘No. This is why you have much to learn.’

  ‘Fabulous.’ She’d spent the day alternating between false bravado and pure panic about dancing tango again.

  ‘You will learn.’ He smiled, giving her confidence. ‘The follower must surrender one’s need for self-preservation and allow the leader to take control.’

  ‘So it is a macho dance! And that contradicts what you said before.’

  ‘Tango, like love—’

  ‘Is complicated. Got it, but know this, I will only follow the male because it is a dance, not real life. I have not, nor will I ever, let a man tell me what to do. Women have their own brains and we can survive quite well without men if we choose.’ She wanted to add a childish ‘So there’, but resisted.

  ‘You have finished with your ladies’ freedom speech, yes? Or shall I wait for you to get it out of your system? Remember, we have not got all the night.’

  ‘I’m done.’ For now.

  ‘Venting is cathartic, no? But please refrain from doing this when I am teaching.’ He cleared his throat again. ‘It is important for the leader to make sure the follower feels safe because if she does not, she will not reach a state of meditation and this would be very sad.’

  ‘Are you talking about a Tango Nirvana?’

  ‘Yes. It is called entrega and is the Holy Grail of tango. It is a Holy Trinity, in fact. It is when two dancers meld perfectly into one and their moves and souls are entwined with the music, they create a moment of magic. Of course, it cannot last forever, but once it is glimpsed, the dancers search for it with desperation. Unfortunately, most never find it again.’

  ‘It sounds like you’re talking about love.’

  ‘Love?’ His eyebrows shot so high they nearly collided with his hairline. ‘Pfft. Daniela, please do not get us distracted. The next rule of tango is about discretion. Yes, there is passion but it is a conversation between the man and woman. It is not an open discussion for the world to see.’

  ‘No groping on the dance floor, eh?’

>   ‘What is this “groping”?’

  ‘When someone feels—Oh, never mind. Okay, closed conversation. Got it.’

  He rubbed his thumb and forefinger against his chin. ‘We move on to the next rule—your expression. You must be serious and your face should convey the power of the emotions of the dance. No smiling.’

  ‘I need to know all this before we get on the dance floor?’

  ‘There is more—’

  ‘I am sorry for my absence.’ A slight sheen of perspiration shone on Gualberto’s forehead. ‘It is good to meet with old friends, no?’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ she said.

  ‘Enough chit-chatting. You cannot be a wall flower,’ said Carlos, nudging her leg with his cane. ‘You have questions you want to ask, sí? Time to get busy.’

  ‘Has the theory part finished? Are you going to teach me some real moves?’ So I don’t get done for assault and battery?

  ‘My leg, it hurts tonight. Gualberto will show you. I have taught him everything he knows.’

  His cousin grinned and shrugged his shoulders. A small wave of relief swept over Dani. Even though she hadn’t yet danced with Carlos, she got the distinct impression it would not be a walk in the park. More than likely it’d be a crawl across broken glass.

  ‘Rightio.’ She stood and held out her hand to Gualberto, who remained seated. ‘What? You’ve changed your mind?’

  ‘Sit.’ Carlos grumbled.

  ‘Why?’ She placed fists on her hips.

  ‘Sit down,’ he said with more force.

  ‘Don’t use that tone with me. I don’t care who you are.’

  ‘Do as he says, Dani.’ Gualberto motioned towards the chair.

  She sat heavily and crossed her arms. ‘Fine.’

  ‘We are at the next rule. The lady must wait to be asked to dance. ¿Entiendes?’ Carlos clasped his hands around his cane and rested his chin on top.

  ‘Yes, I understand.’ She hadn’t made it to the dance floor and already she’d stuffed up.

  ‘It is not polite for a man to go up to a woman and ask her to dance. It puts pressure on her to say yes and makes him embarrassed if she says no. Argentines do not like to lose the face. Instead, we have el cabeceo. It is all about the eyes and is fair for both parties. If someone wants to dance they make eye contact and nod, if the other person agrees, they do the same. The contract is made but it is always the leader who goes to the follower. Then you dance for three songs. It is called a tanda.’

  ‘Why three?’

  ‘It is just so. Sometimes it is four or five, but mostly three. Do not say thank you before you have finished the tanda with your partner.’

  ‘Why not?’ Learning Mandarin would be easier.

  ‘These are questions.’

  ‘But you’re going to shove me on the floor in public where I might get arrested for assault. I need to understand what I’m letting myself in for.’ What on earth did Iris see in this stupid dance? It’s full of rules, rules, rules. Where’s the fun?

  ‘You gringos are fond of saying thank you but if you say this it means you are finished dancing with your partner. If it is said before the tanda is finished, you are considered rude.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘Sí. That is it.’

  ‘Easy.’

  ‘Show me.’ He leant back and fixed a stare on Gualberto. Dani sipped her drink and wished for something stronger than half-melted ice cubes.

  Gualberto caught her eye and gave a small nod. She allowed a minute smile to grace her lips. At least Gualberto seemed a tad more sympathetic to her dancing disability. He stood and took her hand, lead her to the dance floor while the cortina, the interval, played. Gualberto gently moved her body into position and he wrapped his fingers around hers and placed his other hand on the small of her back.

  ‘Ready? You follow me. We go slowly, slowly. But I ask a promise of you.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Do not close your eyes like the other time. This is dangerous.’

  ‘Yeah, sorry about that.’ And she meant it. Poor Gualberto had been kind and she had repaid him by almost crippling him for life.

  ‘Do not worry. We will change this. But you must listen to me.’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘Stand with your feet together. Put the weight on your toes. Do not let the stomach protrude.’

  Bummer. She thought she’d been holding it in. She shouldn’t have had that hamburger for lunch. Or the chips. Or the milkshake.

  ‘Open your chest.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘The chest, open it. Like this.’ He took a deep breath and puffed out his torso. ‘You let the air in. You breathe better. You dance better.’

  ‘I couldn’t dance much worse.’

  Gualberto joined her laughter then his expression turned serious. ‘Carlos is a tough teacher but he is the best.’

  ‘But you’re teaching me, not him.’

  ‘He knows what he is doing. Do not worry, he will make sure you learn.’

  She liked Gualberto’s devotion to his cousin but so far Carlos had made Gualberto do all the dirty work. After all, sending the poor man for more punishment seemed pretty mean. But Gualberto didn’t appear to care, and she enjoyed his company. Not in a romantic fashion, more like an older brother. For the first time in a while, someone showed concern for her and it felt nice.

  ‘What can you show me?’

  ‘You follow. I lead. We will do something to surprise Carlos. My cousin, he expects a lot from people. With good reason.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Let us concentrate on this first. Worry about your questions later, sí? Chin up. The floor is Medusa. You look at it and you turn to stone. Feet together. Left forward. Draw in right to left.’

  Her temples throbbed from concentrating but she allowed Gualberto’s smooth voice to guide her.

  ‘Right foot step to side. Draw in left to your right. Step back on left.’ He paused and let her catch up. ‘Let us continue. Step back on right. Cross left in front of right.’

  She looked down to find her feet in what can only be classified as a dance position. Dani met Gualberto’s eyes.

  ‘You have completed some of el basico.’

  ‘And I didn’t hurt you! Yay!’ She let go and clapped her hands together. ‘More! More!’

  ‘You are ready?’

  ‘Yes!’ Adrenalin pumped through her body, spurring her on. It briefly crossed her mind that her mother may have felt the same way when she first learnt tango, but rather than wallow in sadness, Dani chose enjoyment. Musings about her errant mother could be left until the wee hours of the morning when insomnia came to visit.

  ‘You need to finish el basico.’

  ‘But I thought I’d just learnt a step?’

  ‘It is the first part. This is the next. Do it all together and you can ask Carlos a question.’

  ‘Got it.’ The way she was going, these articles would be complete by the end of the week.

  ‘Back to the cross over. Step back on the right foot. Draw back the left next to right. Step with left to the side. Bring your right foot in. ¡El fin!’

  ‘That’s it?’ He nodded and she let her excitement bubble over. ‘Let’s do it again!’

  Gualberto counted and she followed diligently, revelling in learning the first ever dance step in her life. She counted her lucky stars that her grandma Stella couldn’t see her now. Her grandma had refused to speak to Dani since she’d announced her business trip to Argentina and the hurt hadn’t subsided yet. She closed her eyes briefly, remembering Stella’s angry words: ‘If you go to Argentina, do not expect me to talk to you again. When your mother left, you and I made an agreement—we will not have involvement with tango, ever. If you see Iris, you’ll only end up more hurt than you already are.’

  It didn’t matter how much Dani had promised she wouldn’t track down her mother, Stella wouldn’t sway. So now Stella wasn’t on speaking terms with her own daughter and granddaughter.
Dani still couldn’t comprehend how her grandmother could be so extreme, especially as Stella had brought her up when her father passed away a year after Iris had left. But Stella’s steely rule over her prevailed, even though Dani was an adult and lived on the other side of the world. Sure, her grandma had given up a lot to raise Dani and whether it was from guilt or a sense of duty, Dani usually did as Stella wished—except for this trip to Argentina. It took a long time to learn, but some things took precedence over pleasing others and finding out about her mother and gaining insight into the dance that enchanted her was Dani’s ticket to understanding herself. If Stella did miraculously show right now, Dani would be hauled off the dance floor and subjected to a lecture on why dabbling in the tango was like courting the devil. Until this moment, she would have agreed, but the thrill of learning a step, even if it was the most basic, almost outweighed Stella’s potential wrath. Almost.

  ‘Come. We show Carlos.’

  They squeezed through the crowd until they reached the other side of the dance floor. Carlos was deep in conversation with a gentleman in his early sixties. His well-tailored suit and perfectly styled hair gave the impression he had money and taste.

  ‘Excuse me, but you might want to see this,’ Dani said. The men looked at her and Carlos folded his arms in an ‘impress me’ gesture.

  She took her position with Gualberto and he guided her through the movements. Once they’d completed the steps, she looked over to find Carlos sporting a non-committal expression.

  ‘What do you think?’ She wished his opinion didn’t count, but it did.

  ‘It is not bad. I owe you an answer, sí? Do you have a question?’

  ‘I have lots. First though, I need a drink. I had no idea dancing could be so taxing.’

  Carlos signalled to the waiter and she and Gualberto joined the men at the table.

  ‘Daniela, this is Diego Alonso, Argentina’s finest tango orchestra conductor.’

  The gentleman took her hand and brushed his lips lightly against her skin. He gazed at her from under a veranda of dark lashes, offering a smile that could woo the hardest of female hearts.