It is fun. Ridiculous, glorious fun. I don’t know the steps. Half the time I’m trying to spin the wrong way. I must have stepped on Angus’ feet at least fifty times.
None of it matters. All that matters is the lively beat, and the joy on everyone’s faces, and the feeling of doing something together as one. And Angus, whose dark eyes never leave mine, whose hand is a steady, guiding force, whose small smile changes the whole of his face, so he glows as though he is lit from within.
I want him. Like I have never wanted anyone before. I want his stoic silence, and his stubborn determination, and his calm pragmatism, but most of all I want the way he looks tonight, with his hair curling around his face, and his eyes sparkling with quietjoy, and a weight lifted from his shoulders I hadn’t even realised he was carrying.
On the next turn, we come together again, our hands pressed palm to palm as we run down a corridor made of the other dancer’s arms. We pause at the end, and I stare up at him, flush-faced, sweaty and out of breath. His mouth opens as if he has something to say.
And then, with a shriek of the fiddle, the music stops dead.
Murmurs fill the hall. I crane towards the stage: the fiddler has collapsed and the other band members have gathered around them in consternation. The redhead in dungarees runs out of the crowd and whispers in the caller’s ear. He groans.
“I’m sorry, lads and lasses,” he says into the microphone. “We should be back with you shortly, although looks we’ll be down on strings. Music will be a wee bit different for the rest of the night, unless someone wants to volunteer to take Carrick’s place.” He laughs, as if at the absurdity of his own suggestion, and turns back to the band.
“Priya!” Ewan limps over on his crutches. “Did you hear that?”
“Ewan, no.” I know what he’s going to suggest.
“Hear me out, yeah?” He winces as he gets down on one knee, so he’s face-to-face with Priya. “You want to be up there, don’t you? I can see it in your face.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve heard you playing the last few nights, and you’re good, Priya. Someday you’re going to play on stages across the world, but if you don’t start now, that someday is going to keep getting further away. Don’t miss your chance because you’re scared.” He takes her hands in his. “I know your mum says the audition will be different, but it won’t be that different. It might be worse.”
“Ewan!” Lila shoots at him.
“What? I’m trying to tell her the truth! That’s the truth! You think she’s going to do better in front of some old bats who arewaiting for her to fail? At least here, everyone is rooting for you to do well, and no one will remember if you don’t. Think about how much fun everyone is having. Don’t you want to be the one to give them that?”
“Want me to hit him with a menu again?” Angus offers.
“He’s not wrong,” I say, surprising myself. “I know more than I should about not doing things because you’re scared. It hasn’t worked out so well for me. Priya, if you don’t want to, no one’s going to make you. But if you want to be brave, and get up there, and have some fun, we’re all behind you. Okay?”
She stares at me for a moment, her eyes wide. “Will you come with me?” she asks at last.
“Of course.” We slip through the waiting crowd to the stage. “Priya can play,” I say to the caller.
He cocks his head. “The little girl?”
“She’s a wunderkind.” I laugh when Priya groans. “Give her a chance?”
He stares at us for a second, then shrugs. “Can’t be worse than a narcoleptic fiddler who doesn’t disclose their fucking condition – sorry.” He looks at Priya. “You’re, what, eight?”
“Ten.”
The caller grabs the fiddle from where it has fallen. “Ever played one of these before?”
She shakes her head.
“But you’re a violinist?”
Priya nods.
He shrugs. “Good enough. Can you sight read?”
This time Priya nods vigorously.
“Come on up. Keep it lively – that’s all these fuckers want – and don’t worry too much. Half of them are drunk anyway. Got it?”
Priya clambers on to the stage, and hesitates when the caller hands her the fiddle. Her hands are shaking. Wisps of hair fall into her face. I can see her starting to fold.
