Page 25 of The Happiness Project

Marianne and Felipe nod as I talk.

‘The industry has been saved by the television shows,’ says Marianne. ‘At one time my studio would have mainly catered to children learning stage or tap, but now it’s every age and we’re full most of the time. We also host parties and weddings here.’

‘And I didn’t have to take up escort work for rich ladies when I hit forty,’ adds Felipe with a gorgeous deep laugh.

I amaze myself by doing two things at once: firstly, wondering what his hourly rate would be (I’d pay it), and secondly, processing the fact that he is over forty. By my calculations, the age difference between us probably isn’t that shocking after all. Considering I was never that good at mental arithmetic, this astounds me. Perhaps the school teachers just picked the wrong examples to use.

If a sugar mummy is fifty-four and her target is forty-three, how many years will it take him to lick every inch of her body? And for how long will her twenty-four-year-old daughter be mortified?

Anyway, back to the sales pitch.

‘I just adore watching them all,’ I say, ‘as does everyone at Mercury and my family — hence my mother’s desire to learn to waltz.’

‘It’s a beautiful dance,’ says Felipe. ‘So timeless and elegant. I will teach her myself.’

My immediate emotional response is jealousy — she’s not having my Felipe! If he has his hands around anyone’s waist, it will be mine!

And then he stands and says, ‘Would you like to try it?’

He holds out his hand, and while spluttering that I’m far more of a spectator than a dancer, I’m drawn hypnotically to follow his lead.

He starts by teaching me the basic step of the dance, which involves us standing side by side doing a box step. I’m quite relieved that it’s not straight into a hold position with the giddiness this man is inspiring in me.

‘Forward left, side right, close left foot to right foot,’ he tells me in a gentle, clear voice. ‘Back with the right, side with the left, close right to left.’

His voice is like music, and although I probably look as clumsy as ever, I feel as if I’m gliding.

After a few practices he takes my hand and positions my arm on his shoulder with my elbow out wide. I can see how this would tone anyone up as just by holding myself in this position I can feel my muscles working. Marianne puts on some music and Felipe counts me in. Unfortunately, during our box step practice, we both moved forward first, so that’s what I do and step on his toes. I feel rather embarrassed.

‘My bad,’ says Felipe, as if I haven’t just given him a professional injury. ‘I didn’t point out that the lady steps backward first.’

He gives me a smile that could probably end all world wars and we try again. After a few rounds of stepping, rising and falling as instructed, I feel that I’m starting to get into the swing of it and can imagine Mum loving every minute of this too. Marianne has videoed this successful attempt and now asks us to pose while she takes a photograph. I ask her to send everything to me to help publicise the trips. It will probably go with a slogan like, If I can dance, anyone can.

I’m out of breath more quickly than I’d like to admit, so Marianne takes over as I sit on the sidelines and watch it danced properly. I have a private giggle as I realise that Marianne isn’t even counting one, two, three — I can’t see her lips move at all!

It is fun dancing but it’s also fun watching the graceful moves of the professionals, so while I watch Marianne and Felipe, I mentally compose the promotional campaign to attract both would-be dancers and spectators. I know that Charlie will be all over this. He adores the glitz and glamour of Strictly, Dancing with the Stars — any show that involves handsome men in tuxedos twirling under a mirrorball. As I often tell him: there are occasions when he’s a bit of a gay cliché. And I know I’m rich to call anyone a cliché, sitting here like a cougar with my tongue hanging out.

My fantasies come to a screeching halt as a lithe and beautiful woman walks into the studio, heads towards the couple and pecks Marianne on the cheek. She then embraces Felipe in such a way as to leave no doubt of their relationship. I’m actually warmed to see them together and relieved that he’s with someone his own age (in the back of my mind I’ve decided that this means I stand a chance should they ever split up — although I doubt she stands on his toes). When they leave, Marianne and I get back down to business; she gives me tips on venues to approach and offers dance instruction both before and after the trip. This is what Mercury Travel is all about and I happily take her up on the offer.

‘Give my regards to Felipe and his friend,’ I say as I’m getting up to leave.

‘His wife,’ clarifies Marianne. ‘They’ve been together since partnering in competitions when they were teenagers.’

‘How romantic.’ I imagine a lifetime of swirls and swoops.

‘Yes, but sometimes I want to gag.’ Marianne laughs. ‘Although maybe I’m just jealous that I never found that type of love.’

‘Me neither,’ I tell her with a shrug.

* * *

Back at the house I tell Patty about my evening, sparing none of the details about my gorgeous dance partner.

‘When are you planning to go on the trip?’ she asks.

‘I thought about early March. There’ll be fewer crowds, the spring flowers will be out and there may still be a dusting of snow on the hills around the city. It will probably be very pretty then. I think you’ll still be here — are you thinking of coming?’

‘I doubt it,’ Patty says. ‘I’ll probably be rehearsing too much. It’s a shame it’s not when Jack is on leave. I can just see us floating around the ballroom, him in his uniform, me looking ravishing.’

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