Come, Dance With Me

by Mary Middleton

  The clock on the mantle ticked loudly. Sasha stood unmoving, arms folded, looking out the front window. Andrei, his heart beating hard and sickeningly beneath his ribs, knew that his whole future balanced on the next few minutes; the way he handled the conversation pivotal. He found he was at a loss for words, how did one begin a conversation as crucial as this. There were so many questions he didn’t know where to start.

  He glanced around the room, at photographs of Sasha as a child, long and gangly, looking nothing like her daughter. On the piano there were more photographs, this time of Yana. Yana at the beach in a flowered costume, clutching a rubber ring, her nose pink with sunburn. Yana perched proudly on a pony with a smile as wide as the sky. Yana on a picnic, laughing at the camera while holding up a can of pop. Her short life in pictures, printed in Kodachrome. A happy life that Andrei hadn’t been allowed to share and hadn’t even known existed until a few moments ago. Something broke inside him.

  ‘Why, Sasha? Why did you never tell me?’

  She heard the tears in his voice and her own throat immediately tied up with grief, fear and remorse. She tried to speak but her voice emerged in a croak, she stopped, swallowed, shook her head, eyes closed, tears beginning to seep from beneath her lids.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  There was pain in her voice. He came close behind her. ‘Yes, you do know. You must know. For the love of God will you stop lying, stop lying to yourself and tell me the bloody truth.’

  Her arms crept about her body, hugging her self, she bent forward a little, hiding her face from him, trying to conceal, even now, the reasons she had kept such a terrible secret. ‘It was me, wasn’t it? You thought I wouldn’t want her, wouldn’t look after you both.’

  Tears trickled down her cheeks as she shook her head slowly from side to side, took a deep breath and slumped onto the sofa.

  ‘The man that fathered Yana wasn’t the man you are now. I wanted you to be different. You fooled me into thinking you were not the man that I read about in the papers.’

  ‘You know I’m not!’ he raised his arms helplessly and let them fall to his sides again. ‘You know I’m not, Sasha …’

  ‘I didn’t know that then, did I?’ She filled her lungs with air, her chest rising and falling, her cheeks puffing. ‘That first night, Andrei, you told me you had changed, told me you were a good guy really. I was young and I believed you. I would never have slept with you if I’d believed you were a playboy. When you danced with me, it sounds ridiculous, but I was transported to another world, a world I had never believed existed. It was my first time …and you made it wonderful for me.’

  She allowed herself to look at him. He was listening intently, his eyes clouded, his face full of misery as he remembered the sweet young thing she had been then.

  ‘Your first time?’ he murmured and Sasha nodded.

  ‘My very first … and I woke on Christmas morning feeling fantastic, so much in love with you. When I slid from your bed in the morning I almost floated across the floor I was so wrapped up in you but …’

  ‘But what?’

  She fixed her eyes on his face, wanting to see his reaction when she told him that it was his own licentious behaviour that had robbed him of a daughter.

  ‘I went into the wrong room. I thought it was the kitchen but it was your girlfriend’s room. When I saw her clothes, smelt her fragrance, I knew you had lied to me, taken advantage of me and all the love I had felt just flooded away, to be replaced by shame.’

  As she spoke she felt again the devastation of discovering she had been used, like so many others before her. ‘I wasn’t about to wait around to be dumped, so I fled, before you could hurt me any more than you already had.’

  Andrei’s brow was furrowed. ‘Oh, Sasha …’ he murmured, blowing out his cheeks, shaking his head. ‘Why didn’t you stay? Why didn’t you ask me about it?’

  ‘I didn’t want to hear the filthy details.’ Andrei flinched at the harshness of her voice that revealed just how keenly she still felt the rejection today.

  They sat in silence listening to the clock, deep in thought, each waiting for the other to speak.

  ‘What about now, Sasha? If you thought these things, why did you let it happen again? Were you short of a sucker to trick into fathering your next child?’

  Angry now, Sasha turned on him, the ends of her ponytail flicking in his face.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You know damn well why I let it happen again. You are a skilled lover, Andrei, and make it difficult for a girl to say no. You know very well I tried to fight my attraction for you.’

  His mind slipped back to the hostility she had shown toward him at the beginning of the competition, when they had been mutually appalled at being partnered together. They had been like two dogs, back biting and snarling, when in fact they had both desired something very different.

  ‘You are forgetting, Sasha, you are a sexy woman too. How could we ever work together without something happening when we are impossibly attracted to one another?’

  ‘Do you sleep with all your dance partners?’

  He gave a furious exclamation. ‘You are so stupid. Of course not. Some of them were married women, one of them was gay, some of them have been as ugly as sin. Do you think I slept with all of them?’

  She shrugged, her chin jerking, mouth set hard in an attempt to stem her tears.

  ‘I know you slept with Celia.’

  She hadn’t wanted to say it, knew she was sounding petulant and jealous. Andrei gave a short laugh. ‘Everyone has slept with Celia.’

  He ran his hand across his already ruffled hair again. ‘Sasha, let’s get one thing straight. I had one, relatively short, period of time when I played the field. I admit, after I lost my father and my sister, I blamed myself. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t work, so I drank too much, womanised too much. I was indiscriminate and most of it I can hardly remember. I came out of that phase just before I met you for the first time. If you had stayed with me then I would probably have never looked at another woman again. You aren’t like those women, Sasha. I love you.’

  His voice had gentled and Sasha raised her eyes, daring to look at him.

  ‘What about that room, those woman’s things in your apartment? I thought they must be your girlfriend’s.’

  He smiled, his beautiful mouth stretching, warming his face, softening his eyes.

  ‘It was Yana’s room, my sister stayed with me whenever she came to London. My parents were very strict with her and would only allow her to stay here if she were in my charge.’

  ‘Yana’s?’

  She had never considered that and as she looked at his earnest face she knew for sure he was telling the truth. He continued to speak, revealing things she had never known, things that hurt her because they hurt him. In frozen silence Sasha listened as he exchanged the secret of his daughter’s life for the truth behind his sister’s death.

  ‘Yana was nineteen. My mother had asked me to go to Russia to collect her, bring her here to London for safety but I was stupid, arrogant. Not understanding the real seriousness of the situation I said it would have to wait a few days. But …’ he swallowed, his eyes narrowing as he peered along the painful tunnel into the past and confronted his own complicity. ‘… that night, my father decided to drive her to a secret location to keep her out of the spotlight and that was the night the KGB finally caught up with him. His car was rammed, it careered off the road into a frozen river. I’ve blamed myself ever since…’

  Sasha clamped a hand to her mouth. What a fool she had been for jumping to infantile conclusions when the truth was so much worse. She had torn herself apart on an unfounded supposition, her puerile mind, blowing everything out of proportion, ruining everything. Her behaviour had blighted all their lives, especially Yana’s, who was the innocent in all of this.

  When she raised her eyes to Andrei they were so full of tragedy that he grasped the back of her head and pulled her face into his shoulders.

&n
bsp; ‘Sweet Sasha,’ he whispered. ‘That is the past. It no longer matters. I have loved you so much, from that first meeting. I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me about our daughter. Were you ever going to confess?’

  She raised her head, sniffed and wiped streaming eyes on the sleeve of her jumper.

  ‘I wanted to, Andrei, but I was so scared. So afraid you would be so angry, it would chase you away, one way or the other.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, if you wanted her, you would be furious that I’d kept her birth a secret and deprived you of your daughter and, if you didn’t want her, you wouldn’t want me either and I’d lose you either way. I was in a cleft stick, afraid to move, afraid most of all to lose you, after loving you for so long. I was trying to keep us safe in a little bubble of dreams.’

  ‘Ah, Sasha, we have been fools.’

  He rested his forehead on hers, closed his eyes, feeling the tension and some of the fear drain away, sure now that they could work it out.

  There was a scratching on the door.

  ‘Is it safe to come in? I’ve made tea.’

  Andrei moved away while Mrs Johnson placed the tea tray on the coffee table. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not staying. I know you two have a lot to discuss.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’ Sasha leaned forward and began to pour milk into two cups.

  ‘See you in a bit.’ Mrs Johnson tiptoed with false emphasis to the door and Sasha smiled wryly at him as she handed him a cup. They drank together in silence for a while and then Andrei lowered his cup.

  ‘You have good parents.’

  ‘The best.’ Sasha smiled. ‘I thought Dad was going to thump you in the garden.’

  ‘So did I.’ Andrei pulled a worried face and they laughed softly, the rift not healed but healing.

  ‘So, what happens now?’ Andrei leaned back on the sofa and stretched his legs out before him, crossed his ankles. Sasha watched him, wondering how she should answer and silently acknowledging that, however she replied, the effect upon all of them would be profound.

  ‘What would you like to happen, Andrei?’

  ‘So, I get to choose?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘I should like to get to know my daughter.’

  Sasha nodded, just once. ‘Anything else?’

  Andrei placed the tips of his fingers together, beginning to enjoy himself.

  ‘I should like us to carry on as we were, as lovers on our way to winning the Celebrity Dance Trophy.’

  ‘Do you forgive me?’

  Her voice was barely more than a whisper, as if she dreaded the answer. Andrei sighed, and turned his head toward her. She was pale, her hair bedraggled, the smell of wood smoke still clinging to it, a smudge of ash on her nose.

  ‘There is little to forgive. As I see it, it has all been a catalogue of misunderstanding and misfortune that can easily be put right.’

  ‘Can it? I mean, you said you want to get to know Yana but being a father is more than just getting to know someone. She needs a father, one who will stick around, not come and go as the fancy takes him.’

  Andrei uncrossed his long legs and got to his feet, held out a hand to Sasha and pulled her to her feet. She was just inches away, he maintained his hold on her fingers. ‘Sasha, when I pledge my love to you, that pledge is for my daughter also. But there is one other thing I would like to happen, right now.’

  Sasha turned her wide eyes upon him. ‘What?’

  He looked down at her, his expression one she recognised. ‘I should like to kiss the mother of my daughter.’

  And with that his face lowered to hers and he engulfed her mouth with his, filling her mind with nothing but him.

  Chapter Nine

  Of all the dances, the Tango was the one that Sasha feared the most and, to have to dance it at the final, made the prospect additionally terrifying. On Monday morning Andrei sat her down and talked her through the history of the dance.

  ‘We will be doing a ballroom version of the Argentinian Tango which, in modern times, has evolved so much that it is now as different from the original as the Waltz is from the Foxtrot. It is wildly dissimilar from anything we have done before, Sasha. You will have to learn new posture, new movement, new steps …everything.’

  Sasha pulled a face.

  Andrei reached for her hand.

  ‘Hey, cheer up. The dance is based on three things; walking, turning and stopping, so there is nothing to worry about, you can already do all three of those things. All we have to do is turn it into a deeply passionate dance.’

  More determined than ever not to let him down, Sasha’s eyes didn’t leave him as he ran through his initial instruction. ‘First, you will walk across the room and back again, putting all your emotion into your movements. And don’t worry about anyone seeing, I am the only one here and I am the only one who matters.’

  She stood up, self consciously pulling her top down as she took her position. At his signal she began to strut across the studio, turning when she reached the mirrored wall and coming back to him.

  Andrei watched. Her posture was good, her feet placement needed some work and she should hold her shoulders back more, balance her head more elegantly on her shoulders.

  ‘Hmmm,’ he said. ‘Come, sit here and I will show you. Pretend I am a beautiful lady and you are the man that she desires.’

  Sasha slid down the wall and sat on the floor and watched Andrei slink seductively toward her, his shoulders back, chin tucked down, his eye fixed piercingly on hers. Each step was placed in front of the other, exaggerating his hip movement. He stopped in front of her. ‘There, now you try.’

  ‘I never imagined I’d have to learn how to walk.’ To hide her embarrassment she laughed as she slunk toward him like a predatory cat.

  ‘Perfect, apart from the giggling,’ Andrei called. ‘Now, go back again and, when you reach the wall, concentrate on turning on the spot, maintain the mood. You are a bad girl. You are hungry, you want to feast upon my body.’

  Sasha pivoted on her heel, keeping her feet on one spot and began to move back toward him. Andrei felt the tension in his scrotum. As she drew close, he rose to his feet, took her hand and whirled her round, pulling her ‘Tango’ style, against his body, his mouth coming down on her neck.

  ‘I think you have the mood already, my darling.’

  They embraced, lingering in each other’s arms for a while before Andrei pulled away. ‘Now, with this dance we keep to the outside of the dance floor, our progress smooth, as if we are moving along a flowing river, our movements must be precise but fluid and, above all, we must remain focussed on one another. We must be hot, we must be engaged, we must be determined.’

  ‘Ok. What are we dancing to?’

  Andrei flicked a switch and Los Vinos blared from the speakers and. although the lyrics were in a foreign tongue, the gravely voice of the singer sent shivers down Sasha’s spine. It wasn’t until she heard the track that she realised just how very sexy Andrei intended the dance to be.

  ‘Come,’ Andrei held out a hand. ‘Let’s practice the first few bars, the steps are simple enough.’

  The morning flew past and by lunchtime Andrei was satisfied that Sasha was picking up the essence of the dance quickly; as usual it was the technique they needed to improve upon. Some of the steps in the middle of the routine were intricate and she hadn’t quite got the hang of the ganchos and the barrida still needed some work but he was confident that by Saturday, she would have it perfected. And she had to be perfect, mere competence wasn’t enough, not for the final.

  At lunchtime, as they made their way to the canteen, Sasha practiced her ‘Tango’ walk, slinking along the corridor while a smiling Andrei, followed along behind, lapping up her feline grace, paying particular attention to her pert, wriggling bottom.

  Sasha’s world had been completely turned around by the show and, although the grand final loomed, she could hardly believe that time had sped by so quickly. In some ways, now that the bar
riers between them had been demolished, it seemed she had been working with Andrei all her life while, in other respects, they seemed to have only just begun.

  Saturday night was the showdown. With just three contestants left, two would be leaving the show empty handed and Sasha prayed constantly she would not be one of them. The couple remaining would get the trophy and the kudos.

  Andrei held no such worries. ‘We can easily beat both of them,’ he assured her as he worked his way through a chicken salad sandwich. ‘Vanessa is sure to snap under the pressure and, as for Joe, his footwork is sloppy and his hands, they are like spatulas. And he bounces on his knees like a bunny rabbit.’

  ‘Oh, Andrei, that’s a bit harsh,’ Sasha defended her opponent although she sincerely hoped Andrei was right. Winning the Celebrity Dance trophy meant everything to Andrei and it would certainly put the icing on her cake of happiness if she could be the one to help him finally get his hands on it.

  By Wednesday she could do the steps in her sleep and so, feeling they deserved a rest, Andrei suggested they finish mid afternoon. The plan was that they relax and prepare themselves for the evening when they were to give their first joint television interview. But, as they had both secretly hoped, they ended up spending the afternoon in Andrei’s vast bed.

  When Big Ben rang out four o’clock from across the river, they reluctantly began to shower and dress, the stolen meeting almost over. It felt strange to Sasha to be getting ready to appear on the other side of the camera on The Mike Bywater Show, subjected to the sort of questions she was more used to dishing out to others.

  This is what it must be like to be married, Sasha thought as they helped each other dress. She straightened his tie, brushed some stray hairs from his jacket, before giggling and wriggling from his grasp in an attempt to prevent him from undoing her zip again.

  As they made their way to the studio Sasha was full of exuberance. Rehearsals were going so well that her confidence was sky high. She just knew they would walk away with the trophy at the weekend.