Page 31 of Waiting for a Bright New Future

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“A little. But you never stop worrying about your children, no matter how big they get.”

Stuart’s own mood rose in tandem with Florence’s and he wanted to make her even more buoyant. An idea flashed through his mind. It was brilliant but she would think him odd and she might still be too miserable from her visit to Shirley.

Go for it!Sandra knew his thoughts.It would be brilliant for both of you. Definitely fulfils the ‘bright’ part of ‘bright new future’.

Chapter Eighteen

Stuart smiled at the rare vote of confidence from his sister.

“You look like the Cheshire cat.” Florence was staring at him.

“It’s nothing. Well, it is something. An idea that might cheer you up. Or you might think I’m stupid, but that’s nothing new, is it?”

“And the idea is?” She was smiling at him encouragingly.

He took a breath. “Let’s dance.”

“Well, that is a turn-up for the books.”

But she remained seated. He’d overstepped the mark. Misread the signs. “We don’t have to.” He spoke quickly. “I know you’re still upset and it was insensitive of me to suggest it. There’s the washing up and everything. I’ll get on with that — you have charge of the remote control.”

He stood up. She was right behind him and touched his arm. Her touch sent a spark around his body and he stepped away.

“I do want to dance and I know just the track.” She fiddled with her phone and portable speaker. “Not the Blackberries this time.”

Even Stuart recognised the tune that filled the kitchen.

“Do you know the actions?” Florence’s body started moving to the beat that had made dance floors magnetic at millions of weddings and cross-generational parties.

He shook his head.

“You soon will. Basically our arms are forming the letters Y M C A.”

It was impossible for a body not to move as the beat engulfed the kitchen and Florence became a part of the rhythm. There was no room for feeling self-conscious as he focused on replicating the movements of his partner’s arms as his own limbs stretched above his head. Eventually he got the movements to flow.

As the song died out, Florence swiped something and it started again from the beginning, but louder this time. It was starting to get dark outside and Florence turned off the fluorescent light, leaving only the blinking red light on the cooker and the illumination from the setting sun. The pattern of movements was now embedded in his head. Stuart closed his eyes and let the music take him. He was nineteen years old again. But this time he was dancing without the prop of alcohol or the purpose of getting off with the girl he’d been eyeing-up all week or because he didn’t want to be the only one leaning against the wall when all his mates were going for it. He’d started this dancing to help Florence but he was continuing for himself.

When the music stopped again there was a moment’s silence. Then a sudden rap on glass.

Stuart jumped.

“Oh my God! There’s a face at the window!” Florence was backing away towards the hall.

Stuart turned to look. It was an angry face with gesticulating arms and wild hair. Florence turned the light back on but that made it harder to see into the almost-darkness outside. Stuart was sure it was a woman. He turned the key on the inside of the kitchen door and opened it. Jayne charged in, wearing leggings and a cagoule. It had started to rain and her short hair stuck to her head, her eyes were wide and she was agitated.

Jayne looked from Florence, still in her dressing gown, to Stuart and back again. “Mum’s gone missing and I don’t know what to do.” Her voice was anguished.

A tonne weight of guilt smacked across Stuart’s shoulders. How could he have given himself up to music so loud that it blocked out the woman he was falling in love with?

“We’ll help you look,” Florence said immediately. “I’ll get dressed.”

Stuart put his arms around Jayne, ignoring the damp feel of her. For a moment she sobbed into his shoulder and then she lifted her head to speak in a halting voice. “It’s my fault. I went to a yoga class on the way home from work. I have to miss so many of them now because of Mum. She might have panicked because I was later than usual. Perhaps she went looking for me?”

“You mustn’t think like that.” He held her close. “No one is to blame. And we’ll find her.”

For a couple of minutes, they were both silent and then Jayne spoke quietly. “Is there something between you and Florence? You looked very cosy together. I thought we’d agreed to—”

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