Luna Tango

by Alli Sinclair

  Drawing a deep breath and puffing out her chest, Dani stepped through the door. Carlos was crouched over his stereo, fiddling around with the buttons and muttering under his breath.

  ‘Hi.’

  He looked up and drew his brows together. A moment later he broke into a smile.

  ‘Daniela, it is nice to see you again.’

  ‘Uh ... nice to see you, too.’ Perhaps her ability to predict people’s behaviour had started to slip. This didn’t bode well for her new career. ‘Did you get my message?’

  ‘Which one? There were, I believe, eighteen.’

  ‘So ...’

  He looked at her blankly. ‘So?’

  ‘Had you planned to call me?’

  ‘But of course! I was waiting to make the plans with Gualberto but now you are here I do not need to call. We go dancing tonight.’ He eyed her dance shoes. ‘I see you are ready.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess.’ She didn’t want to socialise but she had to get to work on her stories. With Carlos and Gualberto in the same room, she might be able to kill two birds with the one stone.

  ‘Do you have a question ready for me?’

  ‘I have lots.’

  ‘Tonight you will dance like La Gringa Magnifica and I will answer every question.’

  Back to that again. Now would be the time to tell him but—Why was this so flaming hard? What’s the worst he could do? Laugh at her lack of dancing genes? Get angry because she hadn’t told him earlier? Or tell her everything she wanted to know? Of course, the latter was her deepest fear. In her head, she was brave and able to cope with whatever she learnt about Iris but with the real possibility of finding out the truth, Dani just couldn’t open up that Pandora’s box. She was nothing but a chicken.

  ‘Daniela?’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Where were you?’

  ‘Inside my head.’

  ‘It is a fun place, yes?’ His wink made her stomach flip.

  ‘Let’s just say, I am not lonely.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘Every writer has voices in their head,’ she said.

  ‘I believe this is so.’ He said it with such acceptance she wondered if dancers experienced the same phenomena. ‘How is your research going?’

  ‘It’s going okay. I’ve been making lots of notes.’ She shifted from foot to foot.

  ‘Do you have them with you? May I look?’

  ‘Yes but they’re only notes, okay?’ It was impossible to quash the defensive tone in her voice.

  He gave a lopsided smile. ‘You are nervous, yes? Why?’

  ‘Because this is my first assignment. I know I have a lot to learn and they’re only—’

  ‘Notes. Yes, I understand. Please.’ He waggled his fingers. ‘Do not be afraid.’

  Dani stuck her hand in the holdall and fished for the notebook, relieved she had started a new one after ditching the Canziani research. She handed over the book and fear twisted in her belly. What if he read it and thought it was garbage? She closed her eyes and gave a slight shudder.

  ‘Do not worry.’ Carlos placed his hand on her arm and his warm touch relaxed her—just a little. He read:

  Tango is the third dance in history where a couple faced each other with the man holding the woman’s right hand in his left and with his right arm around her. The first dance was the Viennese waltz, popular in the 1830s. Next came the polka, in the 1840s. These dances weren’t without scandal, especially when, in 1850, the theatre director of the Paris Opera staged the Viennese waltz to regain the falling numbers of audience. Many citizens objected strongly to the lewd dance hold and it took many years, almost to the end of the century, for the majority of people to accept this new dance position.

  The scandal of the Viennese waltz hold paved the way for tango, as many European immigrants arrived in Buenos Aires, which was little more than a village, between 1880 and 1910. The history of the tango becomes murky at this point as no one can agree on the true origins of the dance.

  Theory one:

  After the British built the railway across Argentina, it opened up regions rich in minerals and land perfect for farming, but the country lacked the workers necessary for landowners to reap their riches.

  The Argentine government advertised for Europeans to come and work in their country. The government offered accommodation and rations for the first week and sometimes subsidised passages. Unlike migration to other countries, the new arrivals in Argentina were men without families. People hoped to work for a few years and return to their homeland rich and ready to marry. Unfortunately, many remained in Argentina, close to destitute.

  Due to the influx of men, Argentina lacked women. There were only two ways in which a man could get close to a woman: visit a prostitute or dance. If a man wanted to marry, the best way to catch the attention of his potential wife was on the dance floor, as this was the socially acceptable meeting place for both sexes. He needed to woo his dance partner by making sure she enjoyed herself and wanted to spend more time dancing with him.

  The only way to impress a young lady was to practise dancing. The shortage of women meant men needed to dance with each other, even if it meant practising with their direct competition. As this was a time before recorded music was available, they needed venues with music. Brothels commonly had live music to entertain the men while they were waiting their turn, so many clients took the opportunity to practise dance steps with other men while the women were otherwise ‘occupied’.

  This theory became popular after Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges wrote an article linking brothels and the tango. Due to his popularity, his fans agreed and his theory grew to the point that it transformed into an accepted truth. The problem is, many people who write about the tango today start with this belief, rather than investigate deeper into the history.

  Theory two:

  Tango was born in the tenement blocks where the poor lived. These communities had a melting pot of nationalities and young boys learnt to dance with their male relatives. Once they achieved a level of competence, these young men were passed on to their female relatives, who would coach them further.

  The dance and music brought communities together. Men would bring out a flute, guitar and bandoneón, and they would congregate in the courtyards. The few women would join the men and enjoy some moments of happiness in their difficult and lonely lives.

  The music united people from many cultures and became a common language. The contradanza was popular among the Italian immigrants and blended dance styles from all over the world to create what later became known as the tango.

  Theory three:

  In the 1880s, the only dance seen in public in Buenos Aires was at theatres or dance halls. The brothel theory may also have stemmed from some less-than-savoury dance halls that doubled as brothels, or from dance halls that were frequented by men and women whose morals were frowned upon by their Christian counterparts.

  Carlos raised his eyebrows and continued staring at the notebook. Dani chewed her lip, inhaling deeply then letting it out in one long breath.

  ‘It is okay.’

  ‘You don’t hate it?’ She leant forwards, not worried about showing her eagerness.

  ‘These are notes, yes? You have covered the basics. I am happy to see you have not written about the men being homosexual.’

  ‘I know them dancing together meant it could be interpreted that way but it wasn’t the case, right?’

  ‘Is that a question?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You answered very quickly. Do you have a real question?’

  ‘Are you going to make me learn a dance step if I say yes?’ God, please no, I am so not in the mood for this.

  ‘What do you think?’ His eyes held a cheeky glint and his mouth formed a grin.

  ‘I think your answer is yes,’ she said as he motioned for her to stand in the middle of the dance studio. She allowed a small pout. ‘Any chance I could ask my question before you torture me?’

  Carlos shrug
ged. ‘I am a gentleman and I would say ladies first but we have a deal, yes? Dance then question.’

  ‘Can’t you bend it? Please?’ Dani hoped he didn’t detect the whine she tried to quash.

  ‘Sorry, I cannot help. I bent the rules once, I cannot do it again.’

  ‘Yes you can! You made the deal! And anyway, don’t Argentines pride themselves on bending rules?’

  Carlos laughed. ‘I see you understand some of our culture. Just do as I ask and you will get what you want.’

  ‘Fine!’ She smoothed down her ruffled shirt. Straightening her back, she held her chin in the air. ‘Teach me, profesor.’

  ‘Walk.’

  ‘What? Walk to where?’

  ‘If you cannot walk, you cannot tango.’

  ‘I’ve been practising walking since I was one.’ She hoped he got the sarcasm.

  ‘Then you should be good at this.’ Carlos grinned. ‘Today you will learn the rock step, la cadencia. This you need to know for when the dance floor is crowded and you do not have the space to execute a traditional tango walk.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said, wiggling her toes in her shoes. Even though she hated this situation, it could be a lot worse. Without Carlos’s help she’d be drowning in murky waters, pushed under the waves of deadlines.

  ‘Start with the paso basico, the basic eight steps. Go.’

  Dani puffed out her cheeks and concentrated on executing a perfect eight. She finished, slightly concerned it had come so naturally.

  ‘Muy bien, Daniela. Now, do it again, but on step five, transfer your weight from one leg to the other and keep doing so as you slowly turn in a circle. Keep on the balls of the feet.’

  She gritted her teeth and started the ocho and on step five did exactly as he asked, rocking from one foot to the other.

  ‘Traffic on the dance floor is now clear. Continue!’ He waved her on and she completed the ocho. ‘¡Fin!’

  She stopped, astounded she’d mastered the rock step first go.

  ‘We will make a tango dancer out of you yet. This is why you should listen to me. Remember when I said no one leaves my tutelage without learning to dance?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said with a slight hiss. His smugness irritated her but he was right, damn it.

  ‘I will admit the improvement in your dancing is not just from my teaching. You seem to possess something I do not normally see with the gringos. Your dancing, it is raw but ...’ He shrugged. ‘You should stay in Argentina longer and learn tango. There is talent hidden under your reluctance.’

  Dani froze. Oh no, no, no. Not me.

  ‘Are you serious? I’ve nearly put two men in hospital!’ She forced out a laugh. ‘That was just a fluke.’

  ‘Fluke?’

  ‘Lucky chance. Don’t worry, I’ll return to squishing toes and cracking shins shortly. So ...’ Change the subject, change the subject! ‘Now for my question.’

  ‘You have earned it.’

  ‘Where do you believe tango started?’

  ‘Ah, Señorita McKenna, excellent question. I will tell you what I know. Tango started deep within, nowhere else.’

  She nodded for him to continue.

  ‘Tango is not a combination of pretty steps. It is not the music. Tango is the journey of the soul. In one song, the dancer or musician can experience joy, heartache, jealousy, love, grief, desire, lust.’ He stepped towards her and lightly brushed his fingers against the side of her face. Dani closed her eyes, breathing in his masculinity, wilting under his passion. ‘One touch can convey these emotions and reach the soul of your partner. One movement ...’ Carlos grabbed her leg and wrapped it around his. His powerful arms held her against his body and a small gasp escaped her lips. ‘... Tells a story hidden within. Man and woman listened to their true selves and allowed their inner emotions to speak. That is how the tango started.’

  ‘Wow.’ She breathed out. ‘Just—wow.’

  ‘That is all.’ Carlos gently pushed her leg down and he backed away as if finishing a business transaction. ‘I need to get something. I will be one moment.’

  He turned on his heels and Dani didn’t blink, allowing her gaze to follow his muscular frame as he entered the office and shut the door.

  Closing her eyes briefly, she tried to make sense of what had transpired. This man was hot, no denying the fact. Passion oozed out of his every pore, yet people said he’d lost his love for the dance. If this was Carlos being dispassionate about tango then she would give anything to have seen him when it was his first love.

  Needing to cool down after Carlos’s demonstration, Dani wandered over to the open window. Cars and buses whizzed by, zigzagging along the road. A breeze brushed her clammy skin as her eyes wandered over to the bookshelf next to the window. The shelves contained a plethora of books on tango—a researcher’s dream. She ran her fingers over the spines, reading the titles in Spanish, English, French and languages she couldn’t identify. No wonder he’d been part of the UNESCO team. When she spotted a photography book featuring her mother, Dani pulled her fingers away as if touched by fire. Small beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and she spun around, ready to dash to the sofa, but her hip collided with some books. A few crashed to the floor and she bent down, gathering them in her arms.

  A slip of paper fell out and landed face up. As soon as she read Querida Cecilia—Dear Cecilia—Dani stuffed the letter between the covers and placed it on the shelf as quickly as she could. With a rapidly beating heart, she stood and turned.

  She halted.

  Carlos stood in the office doorway, arms folded, not moving a muscle. He stared at her for so long she considered freaking out.

  ‘I wasn’t snooping, honest. It fell out and I put it back. I promise.’ She didn’t dare meet his eyes, scared his handsome face might be twisted into disdain or anger. God, after this dumb-ass incident, any chance of him trusting her had been shot to pieces. So much for catching a break.

  She bit her lip and studied the indentations on the wooden floor. He remained quiet. Whatever the outcome, she was ready for it. Dani looked up to find a grinning Carlos, his dark eyes surrounded by smile lines.

  ‘Once again, I can see you are not like the others.’ He sauntered past and picked the book from the shelf. ‘It was silly of me to leave it there. I must have forgotten. I must ...’ He shook his head. ‘Never mind.’

  He went into his office, placed the book with the letter on his desk, turned off the light and cocked his head towards the studio entrance. ‘We go.’

  * * *

  They sat at the same table at the práctica and Dani suspected this space was permanently reserved for Carlos. Since leaving the dance studio, Dani and Carlos had been shrouded in silence. Did he feel the stirring of attraction before, like she did, or had he just been demonstrating how tango arouses passion?

  Dani snuck a glance at his long lashes, slicked back hair and strong jaw. No matter which angle she came from, Carlos Escudero was growing on her. Oh no. After Adam, she’d made a pact to bolt the minute she met a man with excess baggage. Given Carlos’s history, he needed a few trolleys to wheel around the bags containing his woes. Then again, she couldn’t get away with just one carry-on.

  ‘Dani!’ Gualberto rushed over, gave her a bear hug and kissed her on each cheek. ‘It is good to see you!’

  ‘You too, Gualberto.’ She looked up to find Diego Alonso hovering beside their table.

  ‘Diego! Please! Sit down!’ Gualberto grinned broadly.

  Crap.

  A slow, sleazy smile crept across Diego’s lips as soon as he spotted her.

  ‘Señorita Dani.’ He leant in to kiss her on the cheeks. Her skin crawled at his touch but she remained composed on the outside, even though she was in turmoil.

  ‘¡Che Diego!’ Carlos slapped the older man on the back and they took a seat.

  ‘Your stories, how are they?’ Diego asked, leaning in a fraction too close.

  ‘Getting there,’ she said, studying the couples milling on the dance fl
oor, waiting for the music to start.

  ‘If you want a spectacular story, you should find La Gringa Magnifica,’ Diego said with an innocent air, but she didn’t buy it for a second.

  ‘No one knows where she is, right?’ Dani pulled in her stomach as if protecting it from being punched. Did he think she’d fall for his ruse? The only reason he wanted her to write the story was so she could find Iris for him to go and haunt. She hoped other people didn’t think she was as naïve as he did.

  ‘Why would you not write about the most famous female tango dancer in history? Imagine what your boss would say if you interviewed the reclusive Gringa Magnifica.’

  He was good, she had to give him that. It would indeed be a massive coup. Adam would shout from the rooftops if she scored an interview with Iris. The only problem being, Dani had no intention of seeing her mother. Ever. Not even if she finally understood why Iris did what she did. In this moment, distance was Dani’s best friend.

  ‘Carlos and Gualberto are helping me write my articles.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Diego, ‘but to have an exclusive with the woman who changed the face of tango as we know it. Imagine

  She could imagine many things but Diego being without motive was not one of them.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said, praying this damn conversation would curl into a ball and die.

  ‘I guess you are not the journalist I thought,’ said Diego. The challenge landed with a thud in the middle of the table. ‘Your friend Señor Escudero could help you find her and introduce you. La Gringa Magnifica choreographed some shows you danced in, yes?’ He turned to Carlos. A flicker of apprehension sparked in Carlos’s eyes.

  Dani’s stomach dropped. ‘Thank you for the idea but I need to concentrate on the stories I have underway. Perhaps another time.’ Time was exactly what she needed.

  ‘Maybe Diego is right, Daniela. It would help your articles to talk with one of Argentina’s best dancers and choreographers. Yes.’ Carlos’s eyes lit up. ‘We should do this.’