The Tango

by Cain Hopwood

  “It was. So then she said, and I quote,” he said scratching his head, “’I bet in eight weeks I could do a better tango with anyone in Galah than that pair of plonkers.’”

  “She actually said that? Anyone in Galah?”

  “Yes, and I think she could,” he said. “We all then started talking about the various dances we’ve seen over the last few weeks and how we could do just as good a job.”

  Betty nodded and a calculating tone crept into her voice. “And was this bragging, or a genuine discussion?” she asked.

  “Well you know dancers. If they’re not dancing, or watching dancing, they’re talking about dancing,” he said with a smile. “Seriously though, Jade’s first comment was a bit flippant, but then we realised how easy it would be to replicate that show. Jade would do a tango with someone. I’d do a Fred Astaire style tap with someone else. Wendy would do a great swing or rock n roll number. And I’m sure we’d think of a couple more.”

  All the while Simon was talking Betty was nodding along. Come on, Simon thought, I’ve just about spoon-fed you the whole thing. He let the silence stretch, watching her staring into space. You have to be thinking it, he thought.

  “I wonder if it would make a good fund raiser for the CWA,” she said, still staring at the ceiling.

  Gotcha, he thought allowing triumph to flash briefly across his face before smothering it with a neutral expression.

  “Sure,” he drawled. “You’d have to do the usual organisation and convince a few interesting local identities to be the celebs. We’d do the rest.”

  “Would it really be that easy?”

  “Well, I didn’t say it would be easy. Teaching a raw beginner a presentable number in eight weeks isn’t easy. Some of them will fail, and probably fail spectacularly,” he said with a grin. “But either way it’ll be entertaining.”

  “And you’d be willing to do it?”

  Simon shrugged. “Sure, it’d be fun. Jade would relish the challenge. I don’t know if Wendy would do it or not, she’s the shyest dancer I’ve ever seen. But I’m sure we could rustle up a few good dancers between the three dance schools in Galah and Berooma.”

  Betty gazed off into the distance, mulling over the concept. Hopefully she wouldn’t guess where the idea came from. But in the end, once the concept gained momentum with the CWA committee, it didn’t really matter if she did.

  “I’ll suggest it to the committee tomorrow night and see what they think,” she said. Then she looked at the clock on the wall, “It’s eleven thirty!”

  Simon’s head snapped to the clock, the paper was due at the printers at twelve. “Shit, we’d better finish this proofing.”

  They both turned to the proofs on the table and resumed their work. They were still methodical, but a little faster than before, all thoughts of the fund raiser temporarily banished.

  Cadencia

  [cah-den’-the-ah], (lit “rhythm”)

  A subtle shift of weight to and fro at the start of a dance allowing the leader and follower to synchronise on rhythm and ensure both dancers begin on the correct foot.

  Chapter Five

  The rain was falling again as Simon’s car squelched to a stop in front of Bruce’s house. The rain was not the heavy thunderstorm of last Saturday, more a relentless drizzle. Fortunately it wasn’t the kind of rain that would cause the creek crossing in Bruce’s driveway to rise, although it certainly made the road as greasy as a rock n roller’s hairdo.

  Before he got out of the warm dry car he took a moment to check Bruce’s TV antenna and saw that it had been repaired. Satisfied that the trip wasn’t in vain he opened the door and dashed through the rain to the house.

  “You’re early,” Betty said as Simon shook the water off his coat and hung it to dry by the front door.

  “And you look like you’ve got some news,” he said recognising the cheeky glitter in her eyes. That look usually meant she had some juicy gossip that she was just itching to tell someone about.

  “You’ll have to wait until the others get here,” she said with a pout.

  Simon just smiled, took the cup of tea she offered, and found a seat on the couch. Betty always brewed earl grey, and he savoured the rich citrus aroma. She would tell him her news when she was ready. In fact, knowing her, she’d want to make a grand announcement once the others were here.

  He was about to ask Betty where Bruce was when he heard the unmistakable sound of a 351 V8 rumble to a halt outside. That would be Bruce’s truck, he thought. Sure enough, a minute later Bruce came through the front door in a rush, shaking the water off his clothes.

  “You’re kind of late aren’t you, which game were you covering?” Simon asked.

  “Just the Dogs and Goats game down in Berooma,” Bruce said, sighing. He flopped into the old armchair across from Simon.

  “Anything to write home about?”

  “Nah, nothing like you had last weekend at least. From how you tell it that game was a cracker, I wish I’d seen it.”

  “It was a good one,” Simon drawled, slipping into his talking-about-sport-at-the-pub voice. Bruce loved rugby no matter who was playing or how scrappy the play was. Simon’s interest was limited to the internationals, and only the potentially interesting internationals at that. But for Bruce’s sake, him being the only other bloke at the office, Simon made an effort.

  Simon scratched his head. “Didn’t the dog’s game finish at four? What kept you?”

  “The water was over the bridge on the Berooma road so I had to go the long way round. There’s another hour of my life lost to this wet summer.”

  Simon frowned, the bridge Bruce was talking about was on the main Berooma to Galah road. It was just outside Berooma, and was a low wooden bridge at least fifty years old. It flooded so often that it had water depth gauges along it’s sides. This particular bridge was prone to flash flooding, but the water didn’t usually get more than a foot or so over the deck of the bridge.

  “Surely it wasn’t so bad that the tonka couldn’t handle it,” Simon said, referring to Bruce’s jacked up F150.

  “Christ no, it was only a foot, foot and a half at most. But some poor bastard had stalled and was stuck. So the cops were diverting everyone until they could get them out.”

  “You could have waited, had a beer.”

  Bruce grinned. “Don’t think that didn’t cross my mind. Except last time I did that they ended up closing the road anyway. So I still had to go the long way around to get home.”

  “Well you’re here now.”

  “I am, and seeing as you brought up the subject of beer... Betty, can you fetch a poor old journo a beer?”

  A few moments later Betty came in from the kitchen with a clinking frosty beer for Bruce, and a plate of biscuits for the table. Simon only managed to resist the aroma of baked goods for about ten seconds before taking one.

  “Don’t forget to leave some for the others,” Betty scolded, as Simon reached for his second biscuit.

  “I’d be doing them a favour, they’re all on diets anyway,” he said, vowing to himself to only have two.

  Betty took a seat and poured herself a cup of tea and they all settled back. They didn’t have to wait long before the clatter of a couple of diesels could be heard coming up the drive. The engines stuttered to a halt and were followed by squeals and giggles as Jade, Fay and Wendy made the dash through the rain to the house.

  Betty sprang to her feet as the trio entered, made sure that coats were hung up, muddy boots removed, and that everyone was settled in with a nice warm cup of tea and a biscuit.

  During all the fussing and chit chat Fay had briefly cast Simon a questioning glance. He hadn’t had an opportunity to speak with her since Tuesday and she was bound to be wondering if he’d spoken to Betty or not. And, if he had, what her response was to the fundraiser idea. He winked, which from her response had done more to confuse her than satisfy her curiosity.

  Simon waited. And once everyone had settled, Betty put down her cup and
looked around the room to get everyone’s attention. Bruce had the television remote in his hand but she interrupted him.

  “Bruce, leave that for the moment, there’s something I need to discuss with the group.”

  Bruce froze, and everyone else straightened in their chairs, clearly curious as to what would cause Betty to speak in such a matter of fact tone.

  She motioned them to relax. “It’s all right, no one is in trouble. On the contrary, I have a proposal for you all, and I hope you’ll accept.”

  “A proposal?” asked Jade, who looked completely confused.

  “Yes. Let me explain. As you may be aware the CWA is having trouble working out what to do for this year’s big fundraiser. Now, a few days ago Simon was telling me about what happened here last Saturday. How the power went out, and then you guys talked about how you could do as good a job at teaching those celebs as the dancers on the show.”

  Everyone looked at Simon.

  “What?” he said, not expecting the sudden attention. “We were just talking.”

  “We were,” Betty said. “It was just harmless chatter. But it got me thinking that maybe we, well you guys really, could do a version of Celebrity Dance as a fundraiser.”

  “Us? Do a TV show?” Jade said shaking her head. “Are you mad?”

  “No, no, no. Not a TV show, a stage show of some kind,” Betty said.

  There was a moment of silence as the idea sunk in and then the questions came thick and fast.

  “Would we do one every week?’

  “How many weeks?”

  “How would people vote?”

  “Who would judge it?”

  “Who would go in it?”

  Betty stood up and waved them all to silence. “Now slow down everyone. These are all details that can be worked out later. But without good dancers willing to teach the celebs, there’s not much point even contemplating the idea.”

  “Celebs? Galah?” Jade said.

  “Well, local identities then. People that everyone knows,” Betty said.

  “This is Galah we’re talking about right? Everyone already knows everyone,” Jade said crossing her arms.

  Simon could see that Jade’s recalcitrance was frustrating Betty so he decided to wade in, and he knew exactly how to convince his friend.

  “I think what Betty means by celeb is local characters who everyone would love to see maybe make a fool of themselves. Like for example the mayor, or fatty the butcher, or...” He paused and tried not to grin evilly, “the captain of the footy team maybe.”

  At this, Jade uncrossed her arms and smiled. “Oh yeah, he moves nicely.”

  “Imagine him doing a tango,” Simon said. And added, in a voice like dripping honey, “with you.”

  Jade just stood there looking like she was a million miles away.

  “I think we might be getting a little ahead of ourselves here. We don’t know whether young Daryl is available or not. And maybe he’d rather dance with someone else,” Betty said.

  Jade’s head snapped to look at Betty. “If he’s dancing, he’s dancing with me,” she pronounced in a tone that brooked no argument.

  “Actually Jade’s right Betty,” Simon said. “Daryl’s what? Six-six, six-seven? Jade’s the tallest dancer in town and she’d be the only one who’d look normal next to him.”

  “Yes,” Jade said. “He’s mine.”

  “Very well, if we can get him, he’s yours,” said a flustered Betty. “Now if we can back up a little I’d like to get back to the proposal.”

  She looked around the room making sure that she got a nod from everyone before continuing.

  “Now I’m speaking on behalf of the CWA committee here, I’m asking each of you if you would like to be involved in this year’s fund raiser in some capacity.”

  “I’d love to,” Simon said.

  “Sure,” Fay said.

  “Maybe,” Wendy said.

  “If it gets Daryl into my arms, where do I sign?” Jade said, which prompted a round of laughter from the room.

  Betty nodded although she still looked a little concerned. “Thanks everyone. Now there’s one more think I need to ask. Fay, would you be willing to judge the competition?”

  “Of course,” Fay said, “why wouldn’t I?”

  Betty looked like she was walking on eggshells. “Well, the TV show has more than one judge. And between Galah and Berooma we have three dance schools. And the committee felt that in the interests of fairness, and to get full community involvement, the three judges should come from the three schools.”

  The whole room was silent, even the rain on the roof seemed to quieten down in anticipation, and Betty looked like she was expecting to get slapped.

  Simon thought he saw Fay’s lips purse just briefly. As if she’d just bitten into a sweet Valencia orange and instead tasted a lemon. But before he could properly register the expression on her face Fay was smiling again. To Simon it seemed more like her stage smile, but it was still a smile.

  “Of course, I’d be delighted to work with Miss Laura and Kristine,” she said. “After all, it’s for the hospital isn’t it?”

  Betty’s relief was palpable, and the whole room seemed to relax.

  “Thanks Fay, with you on board, the others won’t want to miss out. The organising committee is meeting next Friday evening, I’ll have spoken to Miss Laura and Kristine by then.”

  “And Daryl?” asked Jade.

  “No dear, we need to get all the dancers and details organised before we work out how and who from the community we ask,” Betty said.

  “But you will ask him right?” Jade said.

  Betty patted her arm. “Yes dear, we’ll ask him.”

  Everyone settled back into their seats and took a sip of tea or a nibble of a biscuit. Simon was quite astounded that he’d been able to get Betty to champion Fay’s idea for the fundraiser without Betty realising. Sure, it hadn’t gone quite as he imagined that Fay expected. Involving the other schools had been quite a surprise. But he could see why it made sense.

  In fact, given the history between the schools, he wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town turned out to see the show. Just in the hope of seeing feathers fly. And now that he thought about it, he wouldn’t put it past those canny old gossips at the CWA to set it up that way for that very purpose.

  Bruce’s voice jolted him from his reverie. “So, are we going to watch this show, or sit around talking all night.”

  Chapter Six

  By the following Friday the dancers had whipped themselves into a frenzy of anticipation about the meeting. Texts had been flying back and forward and they were all wondering who would be dancing in the show, and more importantly with whom.

  Jade had it firmly in her head that she would be dancing tango with Daryl. Simon wasn’t sure how she’d take it if that didn’t turn out to be the case. During the week Betty had been doing some marathon lunches. But, she’d been unusually close mouthed with Simon on who they were with, and more importantly, what was being discussed.

  He’d heard that she’d been all the way to Berooma. She’d also taken both Fay and Miss Laura out, separately of course. Then on Thursday she’d settled into her office in the morning to make a large number of calls. Afterwards, she’d taken Simon aside and asked —in quite a formal tone— if he would like to be involved as a dancer, and if so please could he attend the organising committee meeting on Friday.

  She hadn’t even been halfway back to her office before his mobile trilled. It was Jade and “OMG OMG OMG!” was all she’d texted.

  The familiar aroma of stale beer and a riot of noise enveloped him as he pushed open the door to the Galah pub. He’d been told that the meeting would be held in the back room, which was a good thing because some serious end of week drinking was in full swing in the main bar.

  He shouldered through the press of bodies, breasted up to the bar and was surprised to see Jade serving.

  “Hey, I thought you had an invite to the meet.”


  She rolled her eyes. “I did. But Maria hasn’t turned up and Tom grabbed me on my way through.”

  “Shit! Are you going to be able to make it?” Simon looked at his watch, the meeting was due to start in fifteen minutes.

  “I hope so. Tom’s out hunting someone else up now.” She thumbed down the bar pointing to where Tom, the perpetually flustered owner of the Galah pub, was talking animatedly on the phone.

  Simon nodded. “Well, seeing as you’re pouring…”

  Jade cocked her head, but gave him a fresh beer anyway. He picked it up and was quickly shouldered aside by the next patron, eager for a refill.

  “Catch you in there,” he yelled. But all he got from her in response was a distracted nod as she snatched another empty glass off the rack and shoved it under the beer tap.

  He looked around the bar to see if there was anyone that he’d want to spend a couple of minutes drinking with before going in. Terry Davies and Jesus Johnson were over in the corner, more interested in the form guide than their drinking buddies. That wasn’t unusual. Simon didn’t actually hate Terry, their relationship was better defined as mutual disinterest. And as far as Simon was concerned, that disinterest applied to most of Terry’s buddies as well.

  He briefly considered saying hello to Julie Moore; she was always good for a laugh. But he only had ten minutes or so until the meeting began. And, she could talk like there was no tomorrow. So he pushed through the crowd and headed towards the back of the bar.

  He was surprised to see that the back room was already well populated. Betty and her CWA ladies were sitting at a table at the far end whispering with their heads close together. A number of dancers were milling around at the back of the room. Simon gave a nod to the ones he knew from Fay’s and Miss Laura’s schools. But, there were also a few that he didn’t recognise there as well. He guessed that they were from Kristine’s school in Berooma.

  He gently pushed through the group, saying hi to a couple of them, and giving Wendy a peck on the cheek before taking a chair near Fay. He took a sip of his beer and looked around. Miss Laura was sitting as far from Fay as possible at the opposite side of the room. She was talking to, or rather being talked at, by Kristine.