Page 50 of Not Strictly Ballroom

When we’re back in the dressing room, I keep the conversation light, not wanting Darcy to sink back into his head again. Claire finds us there.

“You guys certainly have the popular vote,” she says as she breezes into the room, not caring if anyone was half-dressed or not. “I’ve been monitoring social media and you’re trending.”

“As a novelty, no doubt,” Darcy huffs from his seat on the bench.

“Don’t put yourself down bro,” she says. “I think there’s a huge number of people who’ve been waiting for something like this to happen in this sport.”

Then she drops her next bit of news. “They’ve just announced the results from the first half. You’re lying third right now.” Darcy looks as surprised as I am. I hadn’t expected anything close to being placed.

“I guess we can’t disappoint them, then.” Darcy stands with a bit more of the spirit and professionalism that have been his trademarks for getting to the top levels of competition.

Claire hugs him, and I hear her say, “So proud of you for going out there. Have you told Nick yet?”

I can see his frown form as he replies with, “Not yet.”

She releases him and gives me a small, sad smile. I’m burning with curiosity to know what’s happened, but I know now is not the time. I push down the worry I feel and concentrate on what we need to do next. It doesn’t occur to me until we’re walking back to the main hall for the second half that I haven’t seen Darcy’s parents at all.

The starting dance, the cha-cha-cha, is perfect for us to loosen up and get back into the right mindset for the competition. The following hour passes in a whirlwind. We dance our way through the energetic samba. The rumba is not called the dance of love for nothing, and I add in all the sensual hip sways I can to show it. As we near the end, I see the question in Darcy’s eyes and nod my response. The rumba drop is dramatic, and while we’ve practised it, we haven’t included it in our routine as it can go badly wrong. Darcy would be completely holding me with one arm—and I’m not light—while I’m draped backwards over it with one leg in the air and my fingertips grazing the floor. He changes the planned moves slightly to set it up and we go for it.

It’s exhilarating, and I catch an upside down glimpse of the audience as they go wild. Darcy doesn’t let me fall and, at that moment, doing the thing I love the most, with Darcy, I feel so full of love that I know we can conquer anything together. He pulls me out of it and the elation on his face mirrors mine.

The penultimate dance is the paso doble, a dramatic dance which requires a perfect strong posture from Darcy and flexibility from me. Whilst I love it, it’s always the one I worry about the most, dancing as an all guy couple, as the sweeping dress of the ladies is a good visual aspect for the dance. I do everything I can to show fluidity even when on the floor as part of one of the most expressive moves.

There’s a slightly longer break before the final dance and we grab a drink of water. It’s the last dance of the senior age group competition. Darcy leans forward, resting his arms on the barriers circling the dance floor. I place my hand on his lower back and give it a slight rub as I lean forward and whisper, “That’ll be us at that age.”

He grins back at me and my heart catches at how he seems so much more cheerful than he did earlier. “What, creaking around the dance floor?” He straightens and turns to face me, the mirth dancing in his eyes. “I’ll probably have two new hips by then.”

“True, and I’ll be needing new knees.” I snort slightly and he smiles.

“Thank you,” he says. Two simple words, but his eyes are loaded with the weight of what he’s carrying right now. He looks so vulnerable, and there’s nothing I’d like more than to press a soft kiss to his lips and whisper against his mouth that I’m always here for him. But this is a very public place, so instead, I interlace our fingers and lift our hands to kiss his knuckles.

My hand is still threaded with his when we walk onto the dance floor for the last time. We take our places for the jive, and Darcy looks around the grand hall as if he’s only just realised all the people are out there. He finally looks as if he’s enjoying the experience.

“Let’s do this,” he says as the music starts up. The jive is a lively and exuberant dance, and I’m glad they leave it until the end as we chassé and spin our way through it. As the last notes of the music die away, we’re both left breathless. We both take a bow and are greeted with a crescendo of cheers and whistles. I look over to where my parents and their friends are seated and see them on their feet along with half the audience. I wonder if we’ve done enough.

We sit and wait, close to the dance floor, as the judges tally up the final results. Darcy is leaning with his elbows on his knees, worrying his thumb again. I lay my arm across his back and idly caress his hip. He leans into my touch as if he takes comfort from it, and I continue it for the long moments until we’re finally called up onto the stage with the rest of the dancers.

We’re called in second, to a huge cheer, and I almost feel sorry for the couple who did win it. They danced brilliantly, and it was well deserved. That we had been placed so highly is pretty amazing, and I can barely contain my happiness. I look over at Darcy with a stab of concern as I know how much winning meant to him, but joy is written all over his face.

It takes us a while to get off the stage and back to the dressing room with all the people who want to wish us well.

Once inside, it’s busy with others who are also getting changed. Darcy sinks down onto a bench and sighs. He gives me a small smile and then rests his head against the wall, closing his eyes. I resist the temptation to try to find out what happened, but he’ll tell me when he’s ready. It’s still busy, so I guess he’s waiting until we’re alone. So instead, I concentrate on getting changed back into my jeans and hoodie. When I’m done, Darcy hasn’t moved, so I sit down next to him and take hold of his hand. He turns his head towards me and opens his eyes.

I’m not going to ask if he’s alright as I can already see the answer to that question. Instead, I say, “Tell me what I can do.”

“Can I stay with you, please?” His question surprises me, as it’s the last thing I expect, and it increases my curiosity and concern.

“Yes, of course you can.” There is no other answer if that’s what he needs. I just need to talk to my parents, as there isn’t room for us all in the van.

I leave him to get changed, promising I’ll only be a few minutes. It takes me a bit longer to find my parents and tell them what I know so far. My mum arranges a lift home with Alan and Brenda, and my dad goes to bring the van to the stage-door entrance.

Next, I find Claire, and tell her that Darcy is coming home with me. She looks relieved and thanks me, even though she still doesn’t enlighten me with any more details. But she promises to call him later.

When I return to the dressing room, Darcy has changed and is just zipping up the bag. I grab it and check he’s okay to grab the garment hanger, then he follows me out to the van.

“Do you need to go home at all? Get some things?” I ask as we settle into the van.

He looks bone weary and shakes his head slightly. “I can’t do that today.” His voice cracks and I pull his hand into mine, rubbing my fingers over the back of his hand.

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