Say it with Sequins

“So graceful,” she finished for him. “Yes, she is isn’t she?” Julia blew out a breath.

“Something wrong?”

“Just wondering what I’m doing here, that’s all. I’ve discovered I’ve got two left feet.”

Harri grinned. “Not from where I was watching. You and Jan look great together.”

“Only because he’s lugging me round. Still at least the long dress will cover any wrong steps! It’s got so many feathers sewn onto it you can’t actually see me.”

“Wish I had the same sort of costume,” Harri laughed. “Poor Eva’s given up on me ever being able to move my hips.”

“You’ve got a hard dance to start with, haven’t you? I wouldn’t fancy doing the salsa so early on in the competition.” Julia made a sympathetic face.

“Yup, Eva’s one hell of a taskmaster. Bullied me into submission so I agreed to do it. But if I go wrong I can at least make a bit up, it’s not as technical as their dance.” He gestured again to Suni and Scott.

“Agreed. Jan’s the same, a terrific bully.” She sighed.

“I suppose that’s what it takes to get to the top of their field. Total dedication and one hundred percent competitiveness.” Harri regarded her thoughtfully.

“Yes, but he could be nicer about it … oh hello Jan!” she said brightly as the man in question came up to them.

“No time,” he wagged a finger at them, “no time for gossip. We work. Now!” He snatched at Julia’s hand and marched her to the dance floor.

Harri watched her go and raised a hand as she pulled a silly face back at him. He liked her. He’d seen her on stage last year and had liked her ever since.

She’d been brilliant. It was the first night of a Noel Coward play and she was brittle and arch and poignant, all the things that Coward demanded. He was relieved, when he met her briefly at the after show party, that she was none of those things in real life. She was actually funny and self deprecating and quite shy.

They’d chatted and then he was dragged off to another party. He left reluctantly; he’d enjoyed talking to her.

Now, as he watched her being swung smoothly round the dance floor by her Russian giant of a partner, he decided he really liked her. He had little time for a personal life and the producers of Red Pepper were always on the lookout for scandal so he had to be extremely circumspect. That’s why he backed off whenever Casey came near, gorgeous though she was, her body clearly displayed in clothes that were too tight or slipped off revealing lots of naked flesh. He knew women like Casey were big trouble. One night and she’d be rushing to the papers with the story. His career wouldn’t withstand that, Fizz TV had made it more than clear that if there were any sex or drugs stories, he’d be out. One glance at Casey and all those things were on the cards. But Julia, now she was a different woman. She was easy to get along with. Attractive too, with her mane of black hair and those flashing green eyes. He felt himself stirring. God, he really liked her. The irritating ‘no relationships’ clause niggled at the back of his mind. It was too frustrating. He’d have to be careful. No rushing into anything.

“Larry!” It was Eva, her Swedish accent could never quite master his Welsh name.

“It’s Harri,” he muttered under his breath and then pinned a cheery smile on his face as he turned to his professional dance partner. His coach. His nemesis.

“We will work now, I think. Come. And Larry, hold me like a man this time please.”

Harri gritted his teeth and got into position. With any luck, he’d be so dire they’d be voted off in the first show. Then he wouldn’t have to put up with this termagant any longer. But he didn’t really mean it; already the old competitiveness, a relic from his college rugby playing days, had taken hold. He was in it to win it, he decided as he was steered round the floor by the determined arms of his partner.

“No Larry, take the lead! Hold me like you mean it!”

***

Before she knew it, Julia had completed her waltz to subdued applause from the audience and was standing in front of the judges, waiting for their comments. Her heart sank; she could see from Jan’s rigid shoulders that he wasn’t pleased with her performance.

Arthur, the senior judge, was first to comment. He had a reputation for being straight-talking but kind. “Well you had a good attempt, you sell the dance well but you were letting Jan do all the hard work. You need to something about raising your ribcage and your neckline is dreadful. Not a bad effort, work on those things and you’ll get better.”

Not that bad, Julia thought cautiously.

But the others were much harsher, even cruel. Her timing was out, her footwork was bad and they repeated Arthur’s criticism about her poor posture. Jan dropped her hand as soon as they left the main studio and went to the back room for the results. He was a silent mountain of disappointment. The scores were disappointing too – a paltry ten in total and they were in penultimate place at the bottom of the leader board, with –inexplicably - Suni and Scott taking the other last place.

“Don’t worry,” said Harri as he went past to get ready for his dance; he was up next. He squeezed her arm quickly and then left.

Jan stormed off in search of water, muttering Russian curses. Julia went to sit on the sofa with the others and got her breath back.

“Well, I thought it was fine,” said Suni. “In fact, it looked really good from back here.” She patted Julia’s arm kindly.

Julia, her breathing back to normal, watched on the TV monitor as Harri entered the studio to rapturous applause; he was the show’s favourite and, despite what he’d said about Suni, was tipped to win. His salsa, however, was a bit flat. According to the judges, he hadn’t made a connection with his partner and there was no charisma between them. Julia wondered about their sanity, it looked perfect from where she was watching. He and Eva came backstage to wait for their results and Harri quirked an eyebrow at Julia making her laugh. He really was one gorgeous man.

“The results are in!” screamed Carol, trying to get some excitement going within the audience. “Seven, seven and an eight! That makes a total of …” she paused, obviously unable to work it out, “twenty two! Our highest score this evening. Well Harri, although the judges’ comments were critical they’ve scored you well. How do you feel?”

Her voice whined on and she kept touching Harri, Julia noticed, on his arm, on his shoulder, on his back, quite low down on his back in fact, near that well shaped and neat behind. Obviously the man’s attractions had been noted by more than her.

And then it was all over; all they had to do was wait for the public vote and the dance off. Julia had a horrible feeling she might be in it and wasn’t sure how she felt. On the one hand, she wouldn’t have to go through the torture Jan inflicted on her for five hours a day, but it would be a shame to let go this project so soon.

They all had a short break, filled with interviews and frantically snatched gulps of water and then the dance off was announced.

To Julia’s total surprise, it was between Suni and Ted. Everyone sat in the backstage room, hunched up on the cream sofas and watched the little monitor in the corner intently. Scott and Suni danced first and, to Julia’s mind, brilliantly. Suni was as graceful and as elegant as ever. The judges pronounced her the winner after Ted had stumbled through his routine and they voted him off.

“Jeez, just goes to prove none of us is safe doesn’t it?” Harri said in a shocked voice. He gave Julia a swift, hard hug, which sent shockwaves of desire straight through her. Then he got yanked to his feet by Eva, to return to the floor for the finale.

It was exhausting, Julia thought. Was she really going to have to do this all again next Saturday? She wasn’t sure she had the mental or physical energy. She went up to Ted and his partner Alicia and muttered her condolences. As she looked over, to where Casey was congratulating herself on staying in and where Callum had found enough alcohol to begin the night’s partying early, she thought the wrong people had been sent home.

Step Three.

The following Tuesday was earmarked for a quick run through of the dance she and Harri were to perform in the Christmas special. It seemed crazy to Julia that they were practising it when she hadn’t even got the hang of the steps for the dance she and Jan were going to do this Saturday. Jan had been a nightmare the day before and, if it hadn’t have been for the cameras watching their every move, Julia would have retaliated.

A smiling Harri arrived with a determined Eva in tow. “They’ve picked the dances out of the hat and we’ve got the rumba,” he said with a grin. “The dance of passion!”

Oh Christ, thought Julia, it’s getting worse. Now I’ve got to make out that I’m in love with the man. Well, she consoled herself, at least he’s easy on the eye, so it might not be all that difficult. He was certainly looking good this morning; fresh and relaxed in dark jeans and a navy t-shirt. Julia gazed down at herself. Jan had called an early rehearsal and they’d already been hard at it for two hours. She was hot and sweaty and definitely did not look her best. She looked over at Eva, in all her blonde coolness, and blew out a frustrated breath. But it was no good, she realised, she would never be like her. She was a completely different body shape for a start. Where Julia was curvy, Eva was tiny, with a waist that was hardly there. And in contrast to Julia’s generously sized eyes and mouth, Eva had narrow, refined features. The huge mirrors, which lined every wall in the dance studio Jan preferred to use, accentuated any comparison. They cruelly pointed out the differences between the two women.

Julia gritted her teeth and spent the time waiting for Eva and Harri to warm up by nipping out and freshening herself up as best she could. Feeling a little better, she ventured back into the studio.

Eva clapped her hands. “Now we start!”

And so they did.

Thirty minutes later and Julia was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. She liked Harri, no correction; she really liked him, certainly much more than Jan. She felt far more relaxed with him than with her pro-dancer partner but this was too much. Some of the moves Jan and Eva had choreographed were incredibly intimate. Far too intimate for two people who had only met a few times and were just casual friends. And it was very apparent that Harri was having similar misgivings.

“Not so!” barked Jan at Harri. “Put your hand on her breast bone and stroke like so. It is the dance of love. Make love to her!”

“I’ve never felt less like making love to anyone,” Harri muttered to Julia. “No offence.”

Julia scrunched up her eyes, she couldn’t bear to look; she could feel Harri’s embarrassment from here. Her t-shirt was sticking sweatily to her back where his arm was holding her and she was mortified that he had to do this.

“Bend back more, Julia! Arch over. More!” Eva demanded.

Julia tried her best but only succeeded in straining Harri’s strength too far and fell to the floor.

“Are you all right?” he asked and bent over her in concern.

“Tsk!” Jan exclaimed and strode off in yet another Russian temper.

“Please tell me why we ever lowered the iron curtain and warmed up the cold front?” said Julia to Harri as he helped her to her feet. She covered her embarrassment by straightening her rucked up t-shirt and smoothing her hair.

“We finish for break now. Ten minutes only!” Eva snarled and banged out behind Jan.

Harri looked at Julia, one brow quirked in humour. “And the Swedish were always supposed to be our allies. Come on,” he said as he took her arm. “I’ll buy you a nice coffee from the vending machine.”

“What, the one where it tastes like Bovril?”

“That’s the one,” he said flippantly.

“You know how to treat a woman.”

“Only the best for you, cariad,” he replied and Julia grinned at the unfamiliar Welsh word. “And, if you’re really lucky, I might even get you a mince-pie; the canteen have just started selling them.”

“Be still my beating heart!” Julia laughed and realised her heart was pumping fast – and it was nothing to do with the promise of a Christmassy sugar rush.

Step Four.

The week continued in much the same vein. They had one more rehearsal of their rumba together which was equally disastrous and then Jan and Eva declared that they must all concentrate on the dances for the next show.

Jan had chosen wisely again. He and Julia were to dance the American smooth, which meant that Julia could safely rely on him to lead her. There was a tricky moment when she was out of hold but Jan had choreographed most of the dance so that he could control her every move. She needed it; she was still finding it incredibly difficult. She could now master the steps but when it came to adding in all the other details like her head hold or her arm shape, then it all went wrong. And then Jan dropped his bomb shell.

“We will do lift!” he declared and proceeded to show her.

“He wants to lift me up and swing me round then hold me on his shoulder!” she bleated a little desperately, to Harri as they shared a pizza after Thursday’s rehearsal. “And he goes and tries to put it into the routine today. We’ve only got two more days to practise!”

“Seriously?” Harri raised his eyebrows in shock. “Well, don’t do it unless you feel confident enough. He’s a tall bloke.”

“Tell me about it. He got me up there for the first time this morning and it’s like being hoisted onboard a giraffe!”

“How tall is he?”

“I don’t know. Six three, six four? Whatever, it feels bloody scary, I can tell you.”

“Well, don’t worry. He’s one of the world’s best dancers; He’s not going to drop you.” Harri smiled at her comfortingly.

“He’d better not! I’d break my neck. Are they paying us danger money for this?”

Harri laughed and took another slice of pepperoni, holding the stringy cheese up to his mouth.

Julia watched him as he ate and something warm inside her unfurled. He was nice she thought. Easy company, a great sense of humour and - nice. She relaxed a little and looked around her.

The restaurant they’d ended up in was buzzing with office workers getting early into the Christmas spirit. To their immediate left was a party of twelve, bedecked in ribbons of tinsel and paper hats and looking red-cheeked with high spirits. A soundtrack of cheesy Christmas hits played in the background. London was well and truly gearing itself up for the festive season.

“I’ve never been so hungry,” Harri said through a mouthful, as Slade’s Merry Xmas Everybody blasted out. “I’m eating like a horse and I’ve lost half a stone already!”

Julia looked at him, at his broad shoulders and well shaped arms with their subtle muscles. “You don’t look as if you need to lose any.”

“I don’t, that’s the problem. Eva’s a bloody tyrant. She’s got me rehearsing five or six hours at a time.” He flexed an impressive bicep and grinned. “Mind, I’ve never been in better shape. Reckon I’m about as fit as I’ve ever been. What about you?”

“Well, I tried to get fitter before all this started and I certainly needed to lose some weight.” Julia picked at a cheesy crust and nibbled.

“No, you didn’t,” Harri interrupted. “I like my women with a bit of flesh on them. Can’t stand Eva’s skinny bits.” He shuddered visibly.

Julia preened a little; she quite liked the idea of being one of Harri’s women. “No, I really needed to lose some. I wasn’t getting any parts.” She looked up at him to see he was watching her closely. “Mine’s a cruel profession. No room for the fatties.”

Harri put his hand on hers. It was slightly greasy from his pizza but she didn’t mind. His dark eyes burned into hers but all he said was, “You’ll do.”

As compliments went, it wasn’t the most effusive Julia had ever received but the warm glow inside her spread and she blushed hotly.

“So, what’s next for you?” Harri picked up his tumbler of water and emptied it in one swallow.

He was a man of hearty appetites Julia thought and, watching him, the question of what he’d be like in bed pinged into her head. Blushing yet more, she tried to concentrate on her answer. “There are - erm - one or two things in the pipeline,” she said carefully.

“Things that bad, eh?”

From anyone else the comment would have grated but Harri’s cheerful sympathy just made her feel better. She nodded. “That bad.”

“I loved you in Still Life.”

Julia smiled. “It was a great production, a great team. But the run was cut short. No money left. And no angel stepped in.”

For a minute Harri thought she was talking literally and then realised what she meant. “Oh, you mean a backer. So, have you really got nothing lined up then?”

“There’s a possibility … but it’s only a slight possibility so I’d like you to keep it under your hat at the moment, that I might get Cabaret.”

Harri sat up, his eyes shone as a grin spread over his face. “Sally Bowles? At the Endcott?”

“Maybe.” She saw his grin widen. He had a lovely smile, she thought, it lit up his entire face and then reached his eyes so that they almost disappeared. Such a charming man. She shook out any carnal thoughts which persisted in pre-occupying her, and got back to the more mundane subject of her career. “They saw I was going to be in this and mentioned they might audition me.”

“So you’ve got a lot riding on Who Dares Dances then?”

Julia shrugged. “Yes, I suppose so.” She finished her glass of wine, she shouldn’t drink midweek really, it stopped her from sleeping but she really needed to unwind after the latest session with Jan.

“Another?” Harri asked and, at her nod, summoned the waitress. “A house red and I’ll have a Becks please,” he said when the girl came over.

“Are you, are you Harri Morgan?” The girl, a younger waitress than the one who had served their meal, gasped and pushed back her felt reindeer antlers. “Oh my God, oh my God! I can’t believe it. Is it really you?”

“I was the last time I looked,” Harri said cheerfully.

“Could I … would you mind, could I have your autograph? I love Red Pepper. Oh I know I’m too old for it,” she chattered on as Harri took note of her tinselled name badge and signed a paper napkin for her, “but my younger sister got me into it and now I always watch it when I’m on lates.” She giggled and blushed bright red.

Julia smiled to herself, and thought the attraction of the programme probably wasn’t just how to learn to use sticky backed plastic.

“There you go then,” Harri handed over the serviette. “Would you like me to do one for your sister too?”

“Oh, would you? Thank you!”

Harri reached for another napkin. “What’s her name?”

“Debs,” the waitress squealed. “Wait ‘til I tell her who’s been in!” She turned to Julia: “Course, we get loads of celebs in here, it being so near the TV studios and everything but Harri’s the only one whose autograph I’ve wanted.” She did a double take and looked at Julia more closely. “Oh hell, you’re, you’re -”

“Julia Cooper,” Julia supplied.

The waitress looked from one to the other. “You’re both doing Who Dares Dances aren’t you?”

“That’s right.” Harri, his voice even and controlled, handed over the other serviette. “And that would be a Becks and a glass of house red please, Abi.”

The waitress took another long look at both of them and Julia wondered what was going through her mind. Then she took the hint, nodded and went off to get their drinks.

Julia giggled slightly. This sort of fame was new to her. Apart from a few hardy souls who waited at the stage door for her, she could get through ordinary life unencumbered by such encounters. She was intrigued by how Harri had handled it. “Does that happen often to you?”

Harri raised his dark eyebrows and grimaced. “Not too much when I’m not expecting it, like tonight. It’s different if you’re visiting somewhere, a school or a lifeboat station. Then you get yourself geared up for it.”

“Do you mind?”

He frowned. “No, comes with the territory, doesn’t it? It doesn’t get to me unless they get a bit over the top. One night a girl sat down at the table with us. Wouldn’t have minded but it was a family meal out for my mam’s birthday, see.” He winced. “Not the most tactful thing to do.”

Julia laughed in sympathy and agreed. She lapsed into silence as Abi returned and, with infinite care, served their drinks and left. Then she asked him “So what’s in this for you? Who Dares Dances, I mean.”

Harri glanced at her over the rim of his bottle, took a long gulp, considered her question and finally answered. “What do children’s TV presenters do when they’re too old to jump out of helicopters and make pencil pots out of loo rolls?”

Julia giggled again. “I don’t know.”

“God, they end up presenting naff ghost hunting shows or sail around the Med on their yacht or disappear onto a digital radio station.”

“And none of that is for you?”

Harri shook his head. “No,” he said. “I know what I don’t want but I’m thirty two next year, I’m getting a bit past it for kids’ TV. So what do I do next?”

Julia shrugged.

“Exactly. What I’m hoping for is that I’ll get some kind of offer come in, something to broaden my career, something exciting. And,” at this he grinned again, “at least I’ll have the satisfaction of learning a brand new skill and raising some money at the same time.”

“Ah yes, the money, somehow we all forget that don’t we.” Julia grinned back at him and raised her glass. “To the charity Pennies for Pencils, then. May it prosper from our bumps, humiliations and bruises!”

Harri laughed out loud and clinked his beer bottle against her glass. “To Pennies for Pencils!”

Their quick meal over, they left the Christmas revellers to it and wandered out into the icy night. It had become chilly over the last few days and now the air sparkled with their frosty breath. Julia hugged herself; she loved this time of year. There was something truly magical about it, despite the cheap tinsel and clichéd pop songs.

Harri raised his hand and, almost immediately, a taxi did a neat U-turn and drew up at the kerb. He looked down at Julia, the flashing Christmas lights from the restaurant turning his face alternatively red then white. It made reading his expression difficult.

“Goodnight then, Julia, cariad.” He seemed awkward suddenly.

“Night night, Harri.” She reached up and kissed his slightly stubbly and very warm cheek. As she did so, he moved and his mouth came to within a whisper of touching hers. But, too soon, it was gone. A cold space replaced the fuzzy feeling Julia had enjoyed all evening.

“See you tomorrow then, Harri,” she called, disappointed that he hadn’t kissed her properly. She got into the cab and looked back for him but he’d already disappeared into the neon coloured night.

Step Five.

Julia allowed herself to be led to her mark to receive the verdict from the judges. She could tell yet again that Jan wasn’t pleased, his smile was forced and the arm he held around her was like banded steel – so tense was he with anger.

It was the third show. Julia had scraped through - somehow - without ending up in the dance off but her points had been consistently low. That she was still in the competition was as big a mystery to her as it patently was to the judges. But, for some reason, the public kept ringing in and still wanted her there, fighting her corner and staying in to dance another day.

As if in slow motion she saw Kevin, the most outspoken of the judges, open his mouth. Oh God, she thought, here comes another stream of abuse. Over the weeks, Kevin had reserved his cruellest, most cutting comments especially for her.

“Well, darling,” began Kevin. “You always entertain us, there can be no doubt of that but whether you can dance is another matter.” A cheer went up around the studio at his first comment and boos followed his second. Kevin looked scornfully around him, his disdain for the audience was well known. “Let me finish, please.” He fixed his pale eyes back on Julia and she braced herself. “Julia dear, your posture is still dreadful despite this being the third week of the competition and we’re nearly halfway through, your footwork is appalling and you’re still letting Jan do all the work. On this performance I don’t think you should go through to the next round, I really don’t, darling.”