by S M Mala
Many times Kit had thought he was the child and Grace was the parent.
‘And you’re supposed to be fit!’ shouted out Justin, breaking Kit out of his trance. ‘Come on, let’s do a time step.’
‘I can’t,’ groaned Kit, seeing the other two move quickly. ‘I’ll just shuffle.’
He walked to the bar and leaned against it, turning to see Justin and Grace tapping gracefully before progressing to ‘Shirley Temple’.
This is when he felt warm inside watching two of the people he loved, laughing and having a good time. The moments were rare but to be treasured. He caught Justin looking at him as he smiled sympathetically.
‘Hello everyone!’ shouted out Yvette, the boys’ mother, walking into the studio.
‘What are you doing here?’ Kit asked, glaring at the mischievous look in his brother’s eyes. ‘I thought you were out and about.’
‘Thanks for visiting your old ma while I was laid up,’ she sniffed at Kit before embracing Grace. ‘Oh what a darling! I was watching from outside and you’re very good, my angel, very good.’
His mother used to be an actress which was a little unfair as she still got bit parts in commercials. Performing was her life. He watched her spread her arms out before clasping them together.
‘Oh, to dance!’ she said, theatrically. Grace looked at her grandmother in awe while Justin shot Kit a knowing look. ‘How I wish I could join in!’
‘You’d be better than him,’ grinned Justin, tapping and turning towards his mother then stopped to kiss her. ‘He wants to learn to dance.’
‘Better not be for a woman,’ scowled Yvette then smiled sweetly at her granddaughter. ‘How’s your mother, sweetheart?’
‘She’s great!’ replied Grace, copying her uncle as Kit caught his mother mouthing ‘slut’ in his direction.
‘Cut it out,’ he replied, retying his laces. ‘I’ve got to take Grace home in a minute.’
‘I know. I thought I’d come with you and maybe we could have a spot of dinner,’ she brightly replied.
Justin, Kit and even Grace stopped when they heard.
‘But you don’t like my mum,’ Grace said diplomatically. ‘That’s what she said.’
‘It’s on the way home and I want to spend some time with my baby son, who seems to spend most of his time avoiding me.’ Yvette walked towards him, not a sign she had a hip operation and stopped. ‘You look very well.’ Gently she kissed his cheek. ‘And I want to see how you are.’
‘Fine,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders.
‘Of course you are. Lie to yourself, if you like, but mothers always know the truth.’
‘Oh!’
… Kristin said on seeing Kit with Yvette standing next to him.
There was never any love lost between the women.
‘I thought I’d accompany my granddaughter home, if that’s okay?’ replied Yvette, putting on her poshest voice which he knew annoyed Kristin. ‘How’s your other child?’
‘Duncan’s fine,’ replied Kristin, eyeing her former mother in law suspiciously.
Kit wanted to laugh as Grace shook her head and flung her arms around her father’s waist.
‘Can we do that again?’ she said, looking up.
‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to do it a lot,’ he replied, kissing her cheeks. ‘Now go in and do your homework.’
‘Dad, take care,’ his daughter said with the usual look of concern. ‘I love you very much and I worry.’
‘Tell me about it,’ he heard his mother mumble.
‘And make sure you go to bed early,’ his daughter continued. ‘You work hard and need your rest.’
‘Of course I will,’ he replied, knowing why his child was concerned.
She was still a little wary if he was fit and healthy.
For that reason, he always felt guilty that he put her through the mill when he was an addict.
It obviously left her a little scarred and scared.
‘Grace, you are my priority, my life. I won’t ever let you down,’ he whispered, feeling overly protective then hugging her. ‘Go in or you’ll freeze.’
He glanced at Kristin who was checking him out. Her hair had been dyed a lighter brown and her makeup was perfect. She looked like all the other women whose partners dabbled in illegal things.
Luckily he hadn’t seen her for weeks, handing Grace over to the nanny when he brought her home.
‘Do you want to come in?’ his ex-wife asked, obviously not wanting Yvette to say ‘yes’ but giving Kit the eye.
‘Can’t, sorry,’ interrupted Yvette. ‘He’s taking his mother out to dinner. Maybe next time?’ The comment was so insincere, Kit let out a little laugh.
‘Sure,’ snarled Kristin then looked at Kit. ‘You look well. Have you lost more weight?’
‘Still the three stones that I’m fighting to keep off.’
‘You look like how you were when we first met.’
‘A child and far too young. Didn’t you start pestering him at school?’ sighed Yvette, flashing Kristin a dirty look. ‘But luckily he’s on the up.’
‘We weren’t going out together when we were at school. He was twenty when we got together,’ Kristin replied, gritting her teeth.
‘He was always slow for his age.’ Yvette replied. ‘And actually, my dear, you were going out but he didn’t know you were being touched up by half of the male population!’
‘Mum,’ sighed Kit.
‘How dare you!’ Kristin said, getting riled.
‘It’s the truth,’ Yvette flatly replied. ‘My son is easily led and gullible.’
‘Of course he is,’ sniffed Kristin, turning her attention back to Kit and giving him one of her seductive smiles. He knew it so well and now it didn’t work. ‘What did you get up to with Grace? She seems happy.’
‘I’m taking tap dancing lessons,’ he replied and noticed the shocked expression on Kristin’s face. ‘It’s something I always loved.’
‘You told me she forced you,’ Kristin said, glancing at Yvette. ‘Wanting her children to follow in her unsuccessful footsteps.’
‘Well, unlucky for Kit, he had two left feet and unfortunately managed to end up in your frequently dropped drawers!’
‘Bye Kristin,’ groaned Kit, dragging his mother away. ‘Why do you bother to stand on her doorstep if it only upsets you?’
‘That house! It’s so new build without any character! I mean, what a place for Gracie to grown up in. A, sort of, step father who’s a local thug and a mother who would be called a village tart. And believe me, a jam tart has seen less spread than that common madam!’
He started to laugh at his mother’s outburst and put an arm around her shoulders. They were nearly the same height as she flashed her translucent blue eyes in his direction.
‘You’re simply gorgeous and far too good for her. You know Kit, you’re beginning to look more and more like your father.’
‘Is that a good thing?’
‘He was a handsome man. And the best thing he ever left me was Justin and you. The worst thing was a dose of the clap from that whore of a stage manager when he cheated on me.’
‘We learnt the hard way, mum,’ he sighed. ‘The people you love always let you down.’
‘Not everyone, Kit, my child. Just the ones who can’t keep it in their pants.’
He laughed again and headed towards the French bistro down the road.
They all lived in and around Ravenscourt Park, including Kristin with her new build. It was good having them close by but sometimes Kit just wished he was a million miles away, on his own, so he didn’t have to speak to anyone.
He knew his brother and mother loved him, though he hadn’t set eyes on his father for a decade.
Yet something still rested heavy on his heart.
An empty space which needed to be filled.
Once upon a time it was women then it turned to drugs.
But neither one couldn’t make him happy especially when put together.
Now he was clean and alone.
The only thing that gave him joy, other than his child, was dancing when he was at his bar. Listening to tunes that made him forget about his woes.
Yvette was looking at him as he gazed out onto the pavement.
‘I’m pleased you’re taking up dance lessons,’ she said, grabbing his hand. ‘It might help get you out of your shell. You know, once upon a time, you’d chat non-stop. Now it’s hard for you to utter a sentence.’
‘It was the drugs,’ he shrugged and smiled.
‘I think it was always you, pretending to be the life and soul of the party when you weren’t. She did this to you, I know it.’
‘I did it to myself,’ Kit sighed, trying hard to smile. ‘I was being self-destructive and selfish. I just didn’t know when to stop.’
‘But you did.’
‘I had to or I’d have lost Gracie for good.’
‘And not forgetting you,’ she said, looking sad. ‘We’d have lost you. What made you so unhappy?’
This he never knew the answer to. He just realised there was a massive void in his life.
Still it was a struggle.
Each day he’d think about getting off his head.
Luckily for Kit, alcohol was never his thing but it was always the high of the drugs, the feeling of being someone.
He missed that the most.
‘Do you still go to the groups?’ Yvette asked gently, reading the menu. ‘You never say what you do to be honest.’
‘I occasionally go but I think I’m okay. If I need some support then I know who to speak to.’
‘Working in that bar of yours must be full of temptation.’
‘The place is clean. No drugs to the best of my knowledge.’ He cleared his throat. ‘And I need to focus on my business but Grace mainly.’
‘Are you making any money?’ his mother frowned. ‘I can’t believe that whore wants you to pay so much for your own daughter. See how brassy she looks and-.’
‘Mum, please?’ he asked gently, seeing the hurt on his mother’s face. ‘Let’s move on. Kristin’s with a man who isn’t my current flavour of the month but she’s happy. That’s what she wanted. A man of wealth and standing who-.’
‘He’s only five foot three!’
‘Mother!’
‘Like I said,’ Yvette continued. ‘She’s a whore and is selling herself. When the time comes, you’ll take Grace away, you must.’
‘I won’t do anything. She’s happy and adores her little brother. What good would it do?’
‘I’d like to wipe the smile off that over tanned strumpet, that’s what I’d like to do.’
Kit laughed, knowing his mum meant well but he knew it wouldn’t solve anything.
He’d still end up being alone at the end of the day.
‘I don’t get it,’
… Kit said, sitting in a café from his home. ‘Why won’t you tell me who she is?’
Ryan and Captain were at the table, both tucking into their breakfasts which consisted of every ingredient on the menu. Ryan’s was fried whereas Captain specifically asked for his food to be grilled.
‘Are you sure you don’t want anything? My treat?’ said Captain, cutting up his sausages into tiny slices.
Kit watched the man demonstrate some very elegant characteristics which made him seem a little odd. He noticed Ryan smirk as he glanced at him.
‘What’s the logic of me not knowing who she is?’ continued Kit. ‘How will I get to know her?’
‘Mr Wilton wanted me to give you this,’ Captain said, putting down his knife and fork, handing an envelope over. ‘It’s the amount you’ll receive when the job is done.’
‘I’m sure there are strings attached,’ Kit said, getting annoyed that his questions weren’t being answered. ‘I’m doing this because I am being forced.’
‘You’re doing this because it’s a coincidence that your brother owns the school,’ Ryan said with a mouthful of food. ‘Just call it bad luck or good luck, depending what’s in the envelope.’
‘Open it,’ said Captain, putting it down on the table and watching him. ‘Mr Wilton said he never discussed money with you.’
‘You’ve told me how she’ll be taken, where she’ll be held and for how long. You’ve gone through what you expect me to do. Befriend her without giving it away which is near impossible if I don’t know who the hell she is!’
Kit realised he was starting to lose his cool as they looked at him.
‘How are the lessons going?’ asked Ryan, half smiling. Kit realised he was getting nowhere fast with his questions. ‘Any improvement?’
‘Nothing to be proud of considering I’ve done them every day for a fortnight,’ he sighed. ‘My brother thinks I should be able to start giving them after half term, the school’s one, which is in a fortnight. Tomorrow I join the class to see what they’re up to.’
‘That’s a good idea. It’ll give you a few weeks to get to know them and pick up their speed,’ said Captain, quickly finishing off his plate. ‘Listen Kit, I think the figure in that envelope might make you see how serious this is.’
Staring at the envelope, Kit didn’t want to open it in front of them so put it into his jeans pocket.
‘The drill is get to know them and see what you can find out. You’ll eventually suss out who it is. Then you can gain her trust so when we do take her, she won’t be frightened. Obviously she won’t know us so it all depends on you.’
‘I still don’t understand,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘What has anyone to gain by doing this?’
He noticed the men glanced at each other quickly.
‘You’re not letting me in on something, are you?’ asked Kit, seeing it was like dealing with a brick wall. ‘Fine. I’ll just have to find out for myself.’
‘This is Kit,’
… said Freda when the class stood in line. ‘He’ll be teaching you after half term but wants to join us for a few lessons to see what we’ve been up to.’
He’d checked with Justin just before going into the class, the group were the usual people to attend. Everyone was there ready for the lesson.
Kit couldn’t hide his shock at the array of ages consisting of nine pupils, the teacher and now himself.
Four of the women looked in their thirties, one man in his sixties, one in her twenties and three women sixty up.
They all smiled at him, bar one, who kept her head down covered in an oversized red hooded top.
‘He’s hot!’ said the oldest woman in the class, making the other ones laugh. ‘How’s your footwork?’
‘A little rusty,’ he honestly replied, seeing the beaming faces.
‘Let’s do the warm up,’ shouted out Freda. ‘And Kit, just follow.’
He stood on the left hand side and watched the class, realising he wasn’t as good as a few of the older ladies and the man.
The thing that made him smile was that they seemed to be having fun. Already he had caught the eye of two of the women. One he suspected would be the ‘target’. His third woman was quite portly with a lovely smiley face but he realised that she was a true actress and lied about her age. She was more in her mid-forties. He’d heard that she was soon heading off on a tour in a musical.
The last person was shrouded in the red top and every time he glanced at her, she looked away. Kit caught the angry brown eyes trying very hard to concentrate on the dance steps.
She was shockingly bad.
The others were much better, even the older ladies, who asked Freda to repeat the steps again and again.
Half way through the class he was beginning to enjoy it, realising it wouldn’t be as bad as he thought considering their level of expertise was basic. His mind ticked over on what his main reason was to be there as he, once again, looked at the younger women.
‘I’m Stuart,’ the older gentleman said, nodding in his direction as they went through a small dance routine. He was short, round, slightly over-weight with his protrudin
g stomach and had a blue and white striped bandana wrapped around his head. ‘Good to get another bloke in the class.’
‘Have you been coming here long?’ he asked, watching Freda demonstrate a cramp roll then noticing no-one could actually do it.
‘A few years,’ he replied, concentrating before putting his heel down first instead of his toe. ‘I hate this exercise.’
‘It gets better the more you do it.’
‘I’ve been doing it for forty years. You’d think I’d have got the hang of it by now.’
Kit laughed then carried on dancing.
The women he suspected to be the ‘target’ were both smiling brightly at him. Actually all the class seemed happy except the one in the red top, who was now limping.
‘See her,’ Stuart whispered, looking at the same woman. ‘Poor Sasha has been coming for years and she just can’t do it. But the girl’s not giving up though I reckon she should.’ He sniggered a little as Kit watched her. ‘The others, well, I think they come here for the gossiping afterwards. We all go for coffee and cake to the place on the corner. You have to come now, if you’re going to teach the class.’
‘Stuart, are you concentrating?’ Freda asked loudly. ‘Kit needs to see how good you are.’
‘If he wants to find anyone good he should have gone to the evening class,’ a woman said. ‘I mean, we’re more than useless.’
‘Speak for yourself, love,’ the oldest woman said, flicking her ankles without a care in the world and making a clean sharp sound. ‘I’ve got the rhythm.’
‘So has he, based on those little frisky hips,’ another elderly lady said, looking over at Kit. ‘I’m sure you’re a lot of fun when you get going.’
‘I’ll give it a try,’ said one of the women he thought could be the ‘target’.
She was quite tall, slim, very pretty and perfectly made up without a hint of a sweat. Her dark auburn, well coiffured hair, was hanging just over her shoulders.
It reminded him of how Kristin now turned herself out.
Her friend was a little bit shorter with shiny dark brown hair cut into a choppy bob style. Again, she was made to perfection.
Both of them had outfits that looked relatively new and they dripped of money.
