by Cain Hopwood
But the dense bustling crowd wasn’t the most amazing thing. The cascade of coins dropping into cardboard boxes seemed loud enough to drown out the hammering of raindrops on the roof. Simon shook his head. Of all the fundraising events he’d covered over the last few years, who’d have thought that a dance competition would have generated this much buzz.
It was going to be an interesting eight weeks.
Gancho
[gahn’-cho], (lit. “Hook”).
A move in which one dancer’s leg hooks around the other’s. When accompanied by a pause in movement the legs can remain entwined. In this case the movement is called an “Enganche”.
Chapter Twelve
Mid Monday morning Simon went down to get his morning brew from Con. He went through the usual banter with the amiable cafe owner, but his mind wasn’t really there. He was trying to decide which of the couples would be best to interview next. All the while in the back of his mind he was wondering just how long he could put off Sophie’s article before it became really obvious that he was avoiding her.
He was meandering back towards the office when he heard his name called.
“Hey Simon! Hold up.”
He snapped back to the here and now and jerked around, nearly dropping his coffee in the process. Daryl was sprinting up the footpath deftly side stepping and shimmying around the Monday morning mix of pensioners and small children.
He bounded to a halt, barely breathing hard. “I’ve been waiting for you. I just ducked down to the newsagent to pick up a copy of the Gazette for nan’s scrapbook,” he said, holding up a rolled up paper.
“How did you know where I’d be?”
Daryl cocked his head to one side. “Con of course. He said you’re always in around eleven for a coffee.”
“Always?”
“According to Con, pretty much.”
Simon chortled. “Ah, creatures of habit huh? So what can I do for you?”
Daryl looked quickly left and right. Then in a soft tone asked, “Can we go somewhere private?”
“Sure, the office is just up here,” Simon said.
They walked in silence the couple of doors to the Gazette’s offices. Simon led Daryl to his desk and gestured for him to sit. “Both Bruce and Betty are out so we’ve got the place to ourselves.”
“Good,” Daryl said, letting out a breath. “Cos I’m having the devil’s own time with this tango, and the last thing I want to do is let all the footy fans down.”
“Don’t they love the underdog, they’re Goats fans after all.”
“Ouch,” Daryl said, and the look on his face made Simon regret the quip.
“Sorry, but you know what I mean right?”
“Yeah I guess,” he said. Then his voice firmed up, taking on a little pride.” But the Goats do win occasionally. There’s a big difference between backing the long shot, and putting your money on a three legged nag.”
“I think you might be being a little dramatic there.”
“Maybe, but I normally pick up sports a lot quicker than this.”
Simon leaned forward slightly. “Look, you’re doing well. You’re picking it up way quicker than most students do.”
“But you and Jade, you’re both so graceful. You make it look so effortless.”
Simon nearly blushed. “Thanks, but there’s an old saying that goes something like, it takes years of hard work to make it look easy.”
Daryl’s brow creased. “OK, I get that, same for any sport really. So how are we going to get anywhere in eight weeks.”
Simon grinned. “Easy, we cheat.”
“Cheat?”
“Sure. Look you couldn’t teach me to play a brilliant game of rugby in eight weeks could you.”
Daryl shrugged. “I could teach you the rules, and how to play.”
“Sure, but could I pull off something like that try you did against the Pigs a couple of weeks ago.”
Daryl screwed up his face. “Probably not.”
Simon waved in an offhand fashion. “Of course not. But, imagine if we set every player in position, with strict instructions as to where and when to run, and when to pass. We could set it up so that everyone knew exactly what was supposed to happen. Could I be placed in your position and make it look just as brilliant to a spectator?”
Daryl twitched one shoulder upwards. “I guess. But that wouldn’t be rugby.”
“No, it would be choreography,” Simon sat back in his chair. “And that’s what stage dancing is all about.”
Simon paused, letting this fact sink in. He could see Daryl nodding slowly.
“OK I get that,” Daryl said. “But I don’t know how most of these tango moves I’m learning are supposed to look. If you’d never seen a game of rugby before, and those choreographed game instructions you were talking about earlier said, Simon then dummies left but runs right, how would you know what movement to make to dummy?”
Now it was Simon’s turn to nod slowly. “Nice analogy, I think I see what you mean. But why come to me?”
“I don’t know, you seemed really friendly and approachable last Monday, and…” Daryl trailed off. “Well, actually Jade scares me a bit.”
Simon blinked once then twice, trying to keep a straight face and thankful that Daryl was looking down at his shoes. Then suddenly he got a flashback to school. Back then, the girls would continually pester him as to which of them various boys liked. As if he’d know, Simon had never been popular with his classmates. Until that is, one of them had the hots for a girl. Then they’d buddy up with him. It was patently transparent, but when you’re a bit of an outsider, you take what little crumbs of inclusion you’re thrown.
Simon reached across the desk and patted Daryl’s hand. “Jade’s a bit in your face, but she’s a softie really. She just takes her tango really seriously. But I’m fairly sure she’s enjoying dancing with you.”
“That’s a relief, I was worried that she might be getting a bit frustrated with me.”
If you only knew, thought Simon. Then another thought occurred. “Daryl, have you actually seen any tango?”
“We watched some video on the first rehearsal. But I didn’t really know what I was looking at.”
“I wonder why Jade hasn’t taken you to a milonga,” Simon said scratching his head.
“What’s a milonga?”
“It’s a social get together where people dance tango. There’s one just about every night of the week in Canberra. The tango scene there is huge.”
Daryl looked at him slack jawed. “There’s a tango scene in Canberra? I had no idea. I thought it was all just dull politicians and public servants.”
“Yep, I was surprised as well when Jade told me. She goes to something there just about every week.”
“This is awesome, I’ll get her to take me next week. Once I can see these moves that she’s talking about I’m sure I’ll get it down pat. You’ll come too right?”
“Sure,” Simon’s heard his mouth say before his brain caught up.
Chapter Thirteen
That evening Simon made his way up to Fay’s studio early. Daryl was yet to arrive and Jade was still teaching her Monday night ballet class. He took a seat in the alcove and sat back to watch. It had been quite a while since he’d been involved in ballet, more than a decade, and watching the class brought back fond memories.
Jade had most of girls at the back of the class stretching and working on their extensions while she was coaching two of the smaller girls in pirouettes. Their technique didn’t seem to bad to Simon, but when Jade demonstrated the move with effortless grace, she made them look like gumboot wearing cowherds.
Once again Simon wondered why Jade wasn’t putting herself out there and auditioning in the city. Between her teaching at Fay’s and working at the Galah pub she couldn’t have been doing more than just scraping by. It just seemed such a waste of talent.
“OK girls that’s our time up. I want you all practicing these before next week. Fay dropped a hint that w
e’ll be doing a lot of these in the school’s end of year show.”
This drew a chorus of questions from the girls.
“You know what’s in the show?”
“What’s it about?”
“What costumes will we have?”
Jade held both hands up to silence them. “You know as well as I do that Fay will not tell any of us any details until she’s ready. But when she asks me out of the blue how many turns you girls can do…” She waggled a finger at the wide eyed group of girls. “Now, away you go.”
“Yes Miss Jade,” they all said in unison and then scampered down to the waiting room.
Once Jade had seen the last one changed into street shoes and out the door she sat down next to Simon and slid off her ballet slippers.
“Hold on there,” Simon said trying to stifle a grin. “You’d best leave those on if you want to use the old losing your shoes under the table trick again.”
Jade stopped unlacing and looked over to the box where all her various dance shoes were kept. “I don’t know if there’s much point. It didn’t work last Monday as far as I could tell.”
Simon cocked his head. “Oh dear. Are you getting over the gorgeous Daryl already?”
“Oh I’m not over him, but I’m starting to have my doubts as to whether he’s into me.”
“I can’t see why not, you’re tall, and you’ve got a body to die for.”
That cracked a small smile. “Thanks, you’re a pet. But seriously, I’m just not getting a vibe from him at all.”
“Maybe he’s so deeply in love with…” Simon waggled his fingers.
“Deirdre?”
“That’s right, her. So maybe he just doesn’t notice any other women.”
Jade looked sceptical. “Do you think?”
“On second thought no. In fact if you hadn’t told me that they were a couple I’d have thought they were maybe brother and sister or something.”
“They sure aren’t a very affectionate couple,” Jade said.
“Well they are seventh day Adventists,” Simon said. “At least she is. I think his folks still are but he’s kind of lapsed.
Jade looked up and fiddled with her shapely lower lip. “Right, so no singing, dancing, and definitely no sex before marriage then. But you say that he’s lapsed?”
“I got that impression when we chatted today.”
“You chatted?
“Yes, you can thank me later. A nice bottle of red will be sufficient I think.”
Jade held her head in her hands. “You and your tangents, I can’t follow you half the time. What have you been up to?”
Simon sat back. “I’ve sorted you out with a date,” he said. Then added, “of sorts.”
Jade folder her arms and didn’t say a thing.
“OK,” he said. “I might have suggested that he’d have an easier time knowing what the tango moves were if you took him to a milonga. That would be cool right? A road trip to Canberra, dinner, dancing.”
Jade uncrossed her arms. “That’s actually not a bad idea, for the show I mean. He remembers body movements like a computer, but my descriptions just don’t work. He’s a visual learner for sure. And, if that means some ‘quality time’,” she said using air quotes.
Simon shook his head. He knew exactly what Jade meant by quality time. “As I said, you can thank me later.”
“I will, thanks,” she said, but she had that faraway look in her eye.
“Anyway I thought you’d like some pre warning.” He got up and headed for the doorway. “Have a good rehearsal.”
“Sure.”
He opened the outside door, then turned back with a wicked smile on his face. Jade was still lost in her happy place. “He asked me along too.”
He shut the door, scurried down the stairs and sniggered, imagining the look on her face as those words sunk in. He expected stamping feet and slamming doors, but there was just silence from the studio. Maybe she was so far off in her dreamland that she hadn’t heard him at all.
Chapter Fourteen
By Wednesday afternoon Simon still hadn’t heard anything from Jade about the trip to Canberra. But that wasn’t surprising, as he’d had his head down with Betty getting the weekly issue of the Gazette to the printers.
He and Betty had just got back from their traditional two-hour post crunch lunch at Con’s when Betty’s phone rang. He wasn’t really listening but when he heard the words “Of course I’ll get Simon to do it,” his ears pricked up.
Once she’d hung up he looked across at her and flicked his eyebrows up.
“What?” she said.
“Technically I’m a freelancer you know. You should be asking me to write stories, not getting me to do stuff.”
“Poppycock. I mean you’re right of course, but this is for the show, not the paper. That was 2BR, You’re OK to do a radio spot aren’t you?”
“Sure,” he said. “Oh wait, it’s not with…”
“No, not with her,” Betty said, putting stress on the word her. “She does mornings, this is with the afternoon presenter, Alfie.”
“OK when is it?”
“Today.”
Simon sat up straight. “What! It’s already two thirty, and I’ve still got to get to Berooma. When is the spot?”
“About five. Look, relax it’s just a chat about the show. He’ll just ask a few questions, you don’t need to prepare anything. Just say what it’s all in aid of, and how you’ve been to the rehearsals, and it’s going to be a fabulous show.”
Simon frowned, “I guess, although I’ve only been to two of the six so far.”
“That’s fine, you don’t need to say that, just say that you’ve been sworn to secrecy,” She said winking at him.
“I don’t know, this sounds more like something that you’d do. You’re the mouthpiece of the committee.”
“Lords no, people are sick of hearing my old voice. Besides Alfie wanted a professional dancer’s perspective.” She must have seen the doubt on his face though. “Look don’t worry,” she added. “You’ll do fine. And besides, it might turn into a regular gig for you.”
“Sure, a regular dance show on 2BR. This is Berooma we’re talking about right?”
“You never know,” Betty said, always the optimist. “Oh, there’s one more thing.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “What?”
“The radio station have got hold of a bunch of promotional tickets to some dance show. They were just going to give them away, but thought that we might do something with them in conjunction with the station.”
“Dance show? Which one?”
“Alfie didn’t say, some travelling thing. If it’s not too lame, I was thinking that we could raffle some off, and have a date with the dancers night.”
Simon rubbed his chin. “Not bad. We could probably promote this as a peek behind the curtain type of thing. I know Jade’s taking Daryl to a tango, but it would also be good for the other celebrities to see a show.”
“If it’s not too lame,” Betty said.
“Indeed, I’ll find out what it is.” Simon looked at his watch, and then out the window. It was, as usual, dark. But the afternoon storms hadn’t started up yet. “I’d better be going. I’ve got plenty of time, but only if the bridge stays open.”
Betty got up and checked the police scanner. “I haven’t heard anything on the radio, so you should be OK.”
“True, but I’ll make sure I get there a bit early just in case.”
* * *
An hour and a half later Simon’s car shook another couple of bolts loose crossing the old timber bridge on the Galah side of Berooma. He glanced over the side as he crossed. While the river was swollen and brown, it still had a few feet to go before covering the bridge. So it looked like he’d make it home in good time tonight.
He still had half an hour or so before he had to be at the station so he parked in the main street of Berooma and took a stroll through the shops. The shopping wasn’t brilliant, Berooma was a touristy
seaside town, but it did have some things that Galah didn’t.
The only thing he really needed was a new pair of good casual shoes. But he didn’t hold out any hopes of getting anything decent here. Most of the clothes shops here stocked Quicksilver and Rip Curl. Their idea of fancy footwear was name brand thongs. Besides, he was saving shoe shopping as an excuse for a trip to Sydney.
After he’d killed about half an hour he made his way to the 2BR studio. It was in a set of offices above one group of shops on Berooma’s main street. In a bored voice the receptionist gave him a set of instructions about where to sit and when not to talk. She had the radio playing at her desk and, as soon as Alfie went to a song, she took Simon in.
Alfie was a hyperactive, though rather plump man in his mid thirties. He had the resonant chocolaty voice that you’d expect of a radio DJ.
“Simon great to see you again,” he drawled.
“Again?” He also clearly had a better memory than Simon did.
Alfie showed him a mouth full of startlingly white teeth. “Ah, I didn’t think you’d remember. Do you remember the combined media Christmas party that old Charlie Melia put on three years ago?”
Simon cast his mind back, he remembered the party all right. Well, he remembered the beginning of it. It was back when he was still drinking spirits, and drinking them with purpose.
“It was the bond themed party right?”
“That’s the one, you went as odd job. Well, maybe it was odd job. You did a wicked tap dance on the bar and rolled your bowler hat down your arm at the end like Fred Astaire or someone.”
Simon frowned. “I Did? I remember drinking a lot of martinis, at the start. After that, not so much.”
“I was dressed as May Day,” Alfie said puffing his chest out.
“The drag version of Grace Jones,” Simon said. Then he lifted a finger. “You had this huge flat topped black plastic hairpiece that stuck up about a foot off your head right?”
