Learning to Dance Again

by Frankie Valente

  Julia studied Cameron as he talked about the project. He was certainly fired up with enthusiasm. He seemed a completely different man to the one who had turned up at Marianne’s birthday party. Despite the fact he was tired from a long day of travelling, he looked happy and excited. Julia was delighted she had somehow accidentally introduced him to Jürgen. And then she relaxed, safe in the knowledge Cameron had genuinely come to Sicily for a business meeting, and it wasn’t some kind of underhand way of getting to see her again.

  13

  The next morning they set off to Palermo. The traffic was heavy as they approached the city, but thanks to the hired sat-nav they found their way through the maze of congested streets and complicated one-way systems. Julia spent the last part of the journey gripping her seat in fear, as pedestrians, scooters, buses and taxis hurled themselves in their path, horns tooting, people shouting and tempers flaring.

  ‘I’m so glad I’m not driving,’ Julia said, as they narrowly missed another scooter, ridden by a young man who was not wearing a helmet and was also holding a mobile phone to his ear as he shot out in front of them from a side street. ‘That boy has a death-wish,’ she added, as she watched him turn down another road and almost hit a pedestrian who was trying to cross on the green light.

  Cameron found the car-park for Jürgen’s company and parked the car. Julia opened the door and got out, looking around, trying to get her bearings. In the distance she could see the dome of the Teatro Massimo they had passed a few minutes earlier in the car. She decided to head in that direction.

  ‘I’ll ring you when I’m finished. No idea how long we’ll be. I suppose it depends on whether we go out to visit the site or not.’

  ‘Take your time; I’m sure there are plenty of things to keep me occupied in the city.’

  ‘Would that involve shopping by any chance?’ Cameron grinned at her.

  ‘It just might; I haven’t bought any presents for anyone yet.’

  ‘Well, if it helps, I have plenty of room in my suitcase so I can take stuff back for you if you want.’

  ‘Really? Well then, that’s me sorted for the day. Have fun, and good luck with your meeting.’

  Cameron walked around the car to Julia and touched her arm briefly, as they said goodbye. Then he headed towards the architect’s office, swinging his briefcase. He stopped at the door and waved at her.

  Julia strolled back towards the street where she had noticed a Prada store. Not that she imagined she would buy anything from this famous shop, but it seemed criminal not to go in and have a look, if only to brag to Marianne when she got home again.

  Julia spent a hugely enjoyable morning browsing around the shops, most of which seemed to have end of season sales on. She bought trendy Italian shirts and jeans for her sons and a little handbag for Marianne. She ventured through a street market and was bullied into buying a fake designer belt, just because she had paused momentarily to look at it.

  She stopped for a coffee and a slice of pizza at lunchtime, before walking down to the harbour. Palermo had a large and busy port, but it was easy to forget you were so close to the sea when you were walking around the city streets. From the city centre there were only occasionally glimpses of water to be had, although the surrounding mountains were a constant looming presence.

  Julia found the faded grandeur of Palermo fascinating. She stared up at the ornate architectural details of the old buildings blackened by pollution and crumbling with age. Some attempt at modernising the city had been made and there were occasional new buildings; ugly apartments and soulless office blocks, designed for economy rather than aesthetics.

  She watched the endless streams of traffic and wondered where everyone was going in such a hurry. She marvelled at the way people dressed, so effortlessly elegant, even if simply wearing jeans. There was something about the way the women walked that captivated her; they seemed so confident striding along the streets in high heels, chatting to their friends or flirting with boys on motorbikes. Julia lifted her chin a fraction, determined to try and emulate some of their style.

  She checked her phone for messages but Cameron had not called. She put her phone back in her bag and headed back towards the Via Roma and decided to visit a big department store which had an intriguing window display of the new Autumn/Winter fashions.

  Julia stood outside the shop and looked at the display of fur trimmed coats which looked more appropriate for the Shetland climate than here in Sicily. She wondered when it would ever get cold enough to wear something like the Alice Temperley Cossack-style fur hat, placed at a jaunty angle on the head of a mannequin.

  She wandered into the store and took the escalator up to the first floor and perused the designer labels that hitherto she had only ever seen in magazines. Up close they didn’t seem quite so attractive. In fact, the rack of cashmere sweaters selling for 500 euros didn’t look half as nice as one she had bought in Marks and Spencer the previous year. She left the shop with the uplifting feeling she wasn’t missing much in life by not being able to afford big-name fashion. She crossed the road deciding to wander back towards the Teatro Massimo, but instead she found herself staring in through the window of a lingerie shop.

  The mannequins wore a selection of grey and navy silk and lace underwear, accessorised by scarves and legwarmers; a curious combination that would not have a place in the real world. She was tempted to go into the shop for a closer look but she changed her mind when she admitted to herself she had no need to invest in such gorgeous and expensive frippery. She sighed and turned away from the window and marched along the street and soon found herself in the square across the road from the Teatro Massimo. She sat down on a concrete bench and checked her phone for messages.

  “Should be free soon. Where shall we meet?” Cameron had texted a few minutes earlier.

  Julia replied: “I’m sitting in the square in front of that big theatre we passed earlier. Shall I wait for you here?”

  There was no immediate reply so she decided to wait anyway. She watched two beggars approaching people who were sitting on the other side of the square. They were trying to sell something, and not taking no for an answer. She watched one young woman try to wave one of the men away. She was talking on her mobile phone, but still he persisted on trying to get her to part with her money. She got up and stomped away and Julia was horrified to see the man stalk after the woman, who subsequently increased her pace. The beggar finally gave up when she crossed the road. Julia grasped hold of her carrier bags, intending to move away if he came towards her, but he turned back towards a group of young women who were sitting on another bench.

  Julia kept an eye on the two beggars, feeling increasingly nervous as she watched their rather aggressive pursuit of money. They were middle aged black men, and she wondered if they had families to support, which was why they were so persistent. She felt sorry for them, as well as a little afraid. The idea of having to beg for a living was an alien concept to her. There were never any beggars or visibly destitute people in Shetland. She checked her phone again, but there was still no response from Cameron.

  She was still fiddling with the phone wondering whether to ring him when she felt someone grab her shoulders from behind. She leapt up from the bench and screamed, before turning around to confront her attacker.

  ‘Cameron! For God’s sake, you scared the life out of me!’

  Cameron looked as shocked as Julia felt.

  ‘Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.’

  He put his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. Julia almost collapsed with relief into him, before she steadied herself and pulled away again.

  ‘It’s OK; no harm done. I was watching out for those beggars over there and getting kind of nervous. One of them practically chased after a young lass, when she wouldn’t give him any money.’

  ‘Yeah; there are some seriously poor people here. Anyway, I’m back now. Nobody is going to tell me what to do.’

  Julia looked up at him and sm
iled. Cameron was at least 6’3, with the build of a lean and fit rugby player and she couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to get on the wrong side of him.

  ‘So, how did you get on with Jürgen?’

  Cameron reached for her carrier bags and indicated they should walk towards the theatre.

  ‘Brilliant. You should see the place where they’re going to build the resort. It will be paradise.’

  ‘Are you going to work with him then?’

  ‘Yes; we agreed I would come over and act as a consultant on some parts of the project where they have less experience. I won’t be designing the villas as such, but they would like some input on the scheme. Most of the consultancy will be done by email, but I should get at least another of trip out of it. Can’t be bad eh?’

  They stood at the side of a busy road, wide enough for three lanes of cars, and waited for a gap in the traffic. Cameron grasped Julia’s hand and they sprinted across, laughing with relief when they got to the other side.

  Cameron let go of her, but the warmth of his hand left an imprint on hers. She caught a waft of his light fresh aftershave as they stood close together on the pavement. His caring gesture reminded her of Duncan. He had never been one for public displays of affection, but he had been the perfect gentleman, and would have carried her bags and held her hand crossing a busy road.

  ‘It sounds great. Lucky you, being paid to come over here,’ she said, trying to shake off thoughts of Duncan.

  ‘And I have you to thank. Let me take you out to dinner somewhere.’

  ‘Perfect; but could we go back to Cefalu? It’s a lot less manic there.’

  They drove home in the rush hour traffic while Cameron told her more about his new project. She had watched his Grand Designs programme when it had been on the television, and she had visited his house many times. She knew he was committed to carbon-neutral architecture, but it was only now she realised how driven he was.

  They drove back to the villa first, to drop off the shopping bags and to freshen up, by which time they realised their day had tired them out.

  ‘That swimming pool is calling to me,’ Cameron said, as he stepped out onto the veranda carrying a cup of coffee. The sun was setting and the birds were singing in the trees and there was a soft breeze cooling the air.

  ‘We could just have something to eat here if you want to go for a swim. I could make some pasta. And there’s plenty of wine.’

  ‘Shall we? I know I promised to take you out for dinner, but we could always do that tomorrow. We could go exploring for the day. How about that?’

  ‘Perfect!’

  Julia wandered back to the kitchen, leaving Cameron outside. She bent down to inspect the contents of the fridge. Tomorrow would be her birthday and she didn’t want to mention it to Cameron in case he started to make a fuss about it. But she conceded it would be nice to go somewhere on her birthday, even if she was celebrating it in secret.

  Julia took out some vegetables and chicken from the fridge and then went out to the vegetable plot to find some garlic and tomatoes. Cameron came indoors and helped her peel and chop the vegetables and together they cobbled together something for their dinner.

  They sat outside to eat. It was dark and the birds had hushed for the night, apart from one insistent tweeting from a bird perched on the roof of the villa.

  ‘I know you should leave some time before going swimming but I will be asleep, or drunk, if I leave it any longer,’ Cameron said, as he put his empty plate down on the table. ‘I’m going in anyway; what about you?’

  Julia did not relish the idea of wandering around in her swimsuit in front of Cameron, so she declined, saying she would come out and sit by the pool after she had tidied up the kitchen.

  ‘I can help tidy up; I’m quite domesticated you know.’

  ‘It’s OK, I just feel like being lazy. You go and get changed; I’ll come out in a few minutes.’

  Cameron chose not to argue the point and headed off to his room. He came out a few minutes later wearing a pair of shorts. He walked out to the pool carrying a beach towel. Julia had already finished in the kitchen and had switched the dishwasher on, so she followed him outside. She took a seat at the edge of the pool and watched enviously as Cameron climbed into the water.

  ‘It’s really warm isn’t it? I thought it would be colder.’

  ‘It’s solar heated apparently.’

  Cameron nodded in approval.

  He swam a few lengths up and down the pool. The twinkling solar lights enabled Julia to see him in the pool, but it was not too bright. She wished she could pluck up the courage to join him.

  ‘It’s lovely in here Jules, are you sure you won’t change your mind? I have seen you in a swimsuit before. Don’t be shy.’

  ‘When?’ Julia snapped, instantly revealing her real reason for not wanting to swim with him.

  ‘Let me see? 1978 I would say; when we were at school.’

  ‘That’s different, we were kids.’

  ‘I might have been, but you most certainly had the figure of a woman if I remember rightly.’

  ‘Shut up! You’re not helping.’

  ‘Sorry. But I could keep my eyes shut.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  Julia could not be persuaded to change her mind about going for a swim even though Cameron teased her mercilessly about it. In the end she flounced back to the veranda, picked up her iPad and logged onto Facebook, listening to Cameron splashing about in the distance.

  Marianne had sent her a message asking what her plans were for her birthday.

  Julia sent a quick reply.

  “Going out exploring tomorrow. I’m sure it will be sunny and warm and suitably pleasant for someone of my advanced years. I think I had better put another bottle of wine in the fridge. Might need whisky too. I canna believe I’m fifty tomorrow. Shit! Where did the time go?”

  The next morning Julia woke up to the sound of Cameron moving around in the next room. She glanced at her watch to see what time it was. It was far too early to get up so she turned over for another little doze.

  She opened her eyes again when she heard the outside door open and close and guessed Cameron had gone out for another swim in the pool. She put her dressing gown on and wandered out to the kitchen. The door to the veranda was closed and she opened it and stepped outside and looked around to see where Cameron was. He was nowhere to be seen. She shrugged and walked back indoors to make some coffee.

  Next to the kettle was a handwritten note: Had some urgent business to sort out – just nipped into town, back soon. Don’t go anywhere.

  Julia took advantage of his absence to go for a quick swim, but she took the precaution of taking her kaftan to the poolside in case he returned. She swam lazily in the water, watching the wispy clouds drifting across the sky. She stretched out her legs and stared at her red painted toenails. Her legs were lean and toned from her love of walking along the beach in Shetland, and now they were pleasantly bronzed. Her tummy was held in by the Lycra of her “miracle” swimsuit, although there was much less of her to hold in, now she had lost so much weight. Marianne was right, she did look a little scrawny; but not bad for her age.

  Moments after congratulating herself for arriving at the age of fifty in a reasonable state, she remembered it was six months to the day that Duncan had died, at the very same age.

  She heard footsteps along the path and she raced to the steps, scrambled out of the pool and grabbed hold of the beach towel. She dried her face and then struggled into her kaftan, almost ripping it in her haste to get covered up.

  ‘There you are!’

  Julia looked up and saw Cameron standing at the gate, with his hand on the latch.

  ‘I thought I may as well have a swim while I waited for you.’

  ‘Don’t let me stop you.’

  ‘That’s OK, we can have breakfast now. Unless you already had yours?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  He opened the gate for her and Julia followed him back to
the villa. She stopped on the veranda for a moment and wrapped the towel around her wet hair. Cameron hovered in the doorway, with a curiously guilty look on his face.

  Julia walked into the kitchen and the first thing she saw was a huge bouquet of flowers on the dining table. Giant red blooms of an unrecognisable flower along with white gerberas and blue irises.

  ‘Oh wow, what’s this?’

  ‘Happy birthday!’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘It was on Facebook, you idiot.’

  ‘Of course. I was going to keep it a secret so you didn’t feel you had to make a fuss. But these are gorgeous; I love them.’ Julia picked up the bouquet to smell the flowers. ‘What are these red ones called?’

  Cameron shrugged.

  ‘No idea, I just pointed to them in the shop. They looked bonny enough. Do you like the red, white and blue theme? Very patriotic eh?’

  Julia smiled; thinking patriotic was preferable to romantic.

  ‘So where would you like to go today?’

  ‘I don’t know actually; you’re driving, why don’t you decide?’

  Cameron wandered over to a large framed antique map of Sicily on the wall of the lounge. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some reading glasses and studied the map for a few minutes. Julia opened and shut all the doors in the kitchen units hunting for a vase. She finally found one at the top of the cupboard, just out of her reach.

  She turned to look at Cameron as he took his glasses off and put them away.

  ‘Right. I’ve found the perfect place to celebrate your birthday.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘You’ll have to wait and see. I expect we’ll need the whole day so we’d better leave soon. I might go and put some stuff in a bag, just in case the weather changes.’