Say it with Sequins

“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!”