And suddenly, she found herself dancing, something she hadn’t done for years. Little by little, she remembered the steps Angus had shown her all those years ago, skipping one foot in front of the other, twisting in and around each other. He grinned appreciatively, the crowd roaring with cheers as the song came to an end.
Next came a Scottish reel, the men and women separating into different streams around her. Quickly, she followed suit, standing opposite Angus, hands on hips in readiness. Confusion reigned as she watched the woman in front of her turning, one hand in the air, as she grasped her partner around the waist. Laughing, Caroline muddled through, delighted that she’d almost mastered it by the end.
Suddenly, the music picked up, louder and faster, and another reel began. This one was a rush of whirls, and she danced as if it were her last night of freedom. Exhilarated, a great smile spread over her face, and she caught Angus’s eyes and couldn’t help but laugh with the sheer joy of it.
The music whirled and twisted, the beat rhythmic as they spun weaving and looping around other couples, linking arms, forming chains that whizzed across the room with an ever-increasing recklessness, knocking over chairs, winding through the tables, the music louder andlouder until it finally came to an end, everyone collapsing onto chairs and even the floor with elated exhaustion.
As the crowd began to quieten, the lone sound of an accordion eased them into a slow dance. Couples found each other, men asked women to dance, and Angus turned to Caroline. ‘Would you care to join me?’
The ballad began, soulful in its simplicity, lifting, repeating, then blending into a heartfelt refrain.
With a hand around her waist and the other holding her hand, Angus swayed as they turned slowly around, the other couples melting into the background. The sensation of being so close to him and yet held inches apart was almost unbearable. The warmth of his body, the scent of him, made her long to pull herself against him.
But every time she felt the passion, she chastised herself.
She was a married woman. How dare she be close to another man? Even by dancing with Angus, she was breaking a code of behaviour that had been driven into her since she was a girl.
The dance came to an end, and while part of her was relieved, another part longed to hold on to him, and she let her fingers linger on his as the crowd began to clap.
Wordlessly, he watched her carefully, as if reaching inside to ask a question, find out some kind of truth.
And she found herself looking away, unable to let him see what was so painfully clear to her: that she’d never stopped loving him.
Taking her hand, Angus led the way out of the dance area to the large backroom bar. There, he found a small table and pulled out a chair for her. A single candle in a bottle had almost burned down to the quick, throwing a flickering glow over the space.
He left to go to the bar and returned with some kind of cocktail.
‘What is it?’ she asked, laughing as she dipped her head to smell. And straightaway she knew. ‘You remembered!’ She took a sip of the heady mixture. ‘Pink gin!’
‘How could I forget,’ he said, clinking her glass with his whisky. ‘It’s your favourite.’
‘Itwasmy favourite.’ She laughed. ‘I haven’t been out for yearsnow.’ She raised her glass to his. ‘Thank you, and cheers, to the good ol’ days.’
They both took a sip, the taste of the drink bitter and potent, reminding her of a different era. ‘Do you remember the last hop we went to before you left for the front? I think that was the last time I went dancing, until now.’
He put his hand across as if to touch hers, but then stopped short, inches away, and she pulled her hand back so that she wouldn’t be tempted to reach for his. It was so natural, spending time with him, being together – even though she hadn’t seen him for over a decade.
‘Funny, you haven’t changed in all this time.’ She smiled at him.
‘Nor have you,’ he said, and a matching smile grew over his face. ‘Those were the days, weren’t they? I thought we’d be young and together forever. But for now, at least we have today.’ And as she loosened under his spell, she felt herself rewinding time, the dismal years with Frank falling into the shadows, forgetting reality for this one single evening of bliss.
MIRANDA
BACK OUTSIDE BUCKINGHAM PALACE,THE EVENING WAS DAMPand dark as Miranda hurried to the Underground.
‘Wait for me!’ a voice came from behind, and Miranda turned to see Lucy catching up with her.
It was a nuisance. She’d wanted to use the journey to take notes, prepare for her call with O’Hara later. He wanted more gossip, more news, and she was running out of inspiration. Without her daily chats with Sinclair, she knew she was missing behind-the-scenes news. For a brief moment, her mind went back to their argument – if you could call it that. How differently it might have gone. With O’Hara breathing down her neck and the palace looking for infiltrators, she could do with Sinclair on her side.
But then she remembered the way he’d looked at her, and she shuddered at the thought of where it could lead. How much better it was to stay away from him.
‘I wanted to talk to you,’ Lucy said, puffing as she caught up.
‘You’re looking very smart.’ The country girl was barely visible beneath the new poise and makeup. ‘Did you get a singing job?’
Momentarily, Lucy seemed stumped for words, but then she said, ‘I’m hoping that something will come up soon.’ She took a deep breath. ‘In fact, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, I have a big lunch meeting in a few days, and I need to look sensational.’
‘Do you want to borrow more money?’
