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.
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