The actress had become a good friend and since leaving had attended every Saturday night performance and had even dropped in on one or two of Julia’s training sessions. Warren, somewhat bitterly, had been overheard to say she’d been in the rehearsal rooms far more since she left the show than when she was in training for it.
Julia took a deep breath and tried, unsuccessfully, to calm her nerves. Her only consolation was that the quickstep wasn’t Jan’s favourite dance either. He preferred the moodier, more sensual dances. Well he would, thought Julia.
Since surviving for the first weeks, the competition had really gripped her. She’d made great friends - with Lavinia of course but had also grown very close to Erica, one of the professional dancers who, since her partner Sam had gone out, had been doing some extra coaching with Julia and Suni.
And there was Harri of course.
Despite herself, Julia let her mind drift. They’d been out a few times, when they could find the time, mostly for a quick bite after training and once to a bar where they’d got shockingly drunk on Bellinis and had piled, insensible, into a cab to north London. He was as cheerfully friendly and encouraging as he’d always been but that had been as far as it went.
One memorable evening, Harri had waved some tickets at them all. It was an invite to a club night at a famous ice-skating rink nearby. It was his producer’s birthday party, he’d explained. Did anyone want to come along? The others cried off but Julia and Daniel found themselves clambering into a taxi and speeding towards Snetterton House after rehearsals one night.
Julia couldn’t contain her excitement. She’d longed to go skating at Snetterton ever since hearing about it but had never been able to justify the exorbitantly high price. In summer, the square in front of the Queen Anne building, housed a series of fountains but, in winter, a temporary ice-rink was set up. It was the latest must-go venue in the city. And its club nights were legendary.
She jiggled about on the edge of the pull down seat and gazed out of the cab window, willing the traffic to part before them.
“What?” she said to Daniel and Harri, who were sitting opposite and openly laughing at her.
“You’re like a big kid,” Harri said, but with affection.
Turning to him, her eyes shining, she replied, “Well, I’ve never done anything like this before and I’ve heard really good things about the club nights. The music’s supposed to be fab.” She pouted a little. “I suppose you’ve done it all before.”
“Skating, yes. Not at Snetterton House though.”
“So where did you skate, then?” Daniel asked.
“In Alaska. I did it as part of filming something for Red Pepper.”
“Alaska? Wow!” Julia was impressed.
So was Daniel. “God, you’ve done some things as part of that job, haven’t you? You’re really lucky to have it.”
Harri gave him an odd look. “I am lucky. Very. I work hard, mind.”
The taxi driver put on his brakes suddenly. As the cab came to a violent halt, Julia slid neatly off her seat and landed on Harri’s lap. She flung her arms around him. Any excuse to touch him, she thought.
“Oops, sorry,” she giggled, embarrassed that Harri had had to take her full weight.
He hung onto her tightly for a second. “You alright?” he asked urgently. “Not hurt?”
Julia was content to stay where she was. “I’m fine.” For a moment, she nestled in and allowed herself to enjoy his nearness. The scratch of the rough wool of his sweater stretched over his hard muscle and the smell of soap, and his leather coat – his very Harri-scent - was intoxicating. Then she began to disentangle herself, confused, as ever, by his proximity.
“Should have worn your seat-belt, babe,” Daniel said. He bunched up nearer to the window. “Here, sit in the middle of us. It’ll be a bit of a squash but you’ll be wedged so tightly, you’ll have less of a chance to slip anywhere.”
As Julia moved reluctantly into the space he’d created, he looked out at the busy London night. “Traffic’s come to a complete stop out there, wonder why?”
A blur of two-tone and blue lights, as an ambulance squeezed past the stationary cars, answered his question.
“Hope no one’s hurt,” he added.
The cabbie turned round and slid open the privacy window. “Sorry about that,” he said, “Everyone okay back there? Bit of a hold up, accident I expect. I’ll turn round when I can and try the other way.”
Everyone assured him they were fine and, after a few minutes of silence, with the taxi still not moving, Daniel resumed the conversation.
“Yeah, I bet it is hard work,” he said to Harri. “Still, a fantastic job. Something you’d want to hang onto for a few years, I imagine. Jobs as good as that don’t come up very often in television. You wouldn’t want to lose it, I imagine.”
Julia sensed Harri shift away from her and was sorry. She’d been enjoying the warmth of the hard bulk of his thigh against hers.
“No,” she heard him say in a distant voice. “I need to hang onto the day job for a while.” Then he changed the subject as the taxi began to inch forward. “Oh good,” he said with obvious relief, “We’re finally moving.”
When they got to their destination, they pushed through the crowds to the entrance, flaunting their ‘Invite Only’ tickets. As soon as they got through security, Daniel saw someone he knew and drifted off towards the bar.
Julia stood, for a moment, taking in the atmosphere. It was beautiful and, to her mind, completely lived up to its hype. A white marquee lined three sides of the rink and, at its head, with the magnificently lit Snetterton House as a backdrop, was the most enormous Christmas tree she had ever seen. This year, it was decorated with a mass of tiny white lights and had a huge silver star at its top. It was stunning and, what’s more, she could smell the pine from here. Mingling with the aroma of mulled wine, wafting over from the bar, it spelled Christmas to her, with a capital C. Even the hard-core club anthems pounding out into the night added to the vibe.
“It’s wonderful!” she yelled to Harri, over the music, and smiled up at him.
Before he could answer, though, three or four very drunk people staggered over to them.
“Hi Trevor,” Harri said, as a tall man grabbed him in a bear hug. “Happy birthday. Sorry we’re a bit late. Traffic.”
This must be Red Pepper’s producer. Julia laughed and stood to one side as Harri disappeared into the group, who greeted him with much backslapping and raucous humour.
By the look of them all, they’d been drinking for quite some time. Harri managed eye contact with Julia and, quirking his brows, extricated himself, making the excuse that they wanted to skate while the rink wasn’t too crowded. He propelled her to one of the marquees, where they had to collect their skates.
Julia sat, trying to pull on her skating boots. “Are you sure these are the right size for me?” she complained.
“Come here.”
