Page 23 of Slow Burn
‘Thirteen years,’ I told her without thinking. Would it seem odd that I had remembered it so precisely?
Daniella laughed, seemingly relieved. ‘Where’s she been since then, then? Because I googled her and nothing came up, except something linking her to that provincial dance studio.’
‘It is a very nice, well-run studio space,’ I said, having no idea why I was defending James Jive or whatever it was called, when I had previously been bemoaning the fact it was outside of London myself. Also, why was Daniella doing internet searches on Lira?
‘Everyone thinks I should have been cast in the lead,’ saidDaniella. ‘The entire cast is talking about it. We’re just not sure she’s cut out for a show of this calibre.’
Thankfully, Carlos called across the studio before I could answer, because it was a guarantee that Daniella would not have liked what I had to say. ‘Gabriele! Come over, please. Lira has suggested a new step that I think looks very slick. Come give us your opinion.’
Carlos was not an easy man to impress, so if she was managing it, she must be doing something right.
‘Better go over,’ I said to Daniella.
‘My door is open for you any time you want,’ she said in a low voice as I passed her.
I made a decision there and then to keep things strictly platonic between us, at least until the end of the run – I wanted things to be as drama-free as possible so that I could focus entirely on my performance. There was no place for feelings in this company. And yet, as I approached Lira, who was wearing skin-coloured leggings and a micro crop top – which, somehow, held her substantial and perfectly-formed breasts solidly in place, despite the apparent lack of actual fabric – I felt a rush of something inside me yet again. Was it that her taut stomach was on show? Was it the slim wrists and delicate fingers that made the intricate arm work we had choreographed look so spectacular? Or was it that I suddenly wanted to skim my hands over every inch of her body again, a sensation I had never fully forgotten?
‘Let me see this step you have come up with, then,’ I said, putting my hands on my hips belligerently.
She showed it to me. Annoyingly, it was exquisite.
‘Do it again,’ I said, watching her.
Then the next time through, I joined in.
‘I like it,’ I said, addressing Carlos rather than Lira.
‘It was all Lira’s work,’ said Carlos, smiling at her proudly as though she was his protégé. I would not be surprised if he had shared the Cinderella-type tale of how he had found her with the press – I supposed it did make a pretty good story.
I nodded at Lira – it would have been rude not to – but I could not bring myself to say anything more. She was watching me with those big, brown eyes of hers, perhaps wondering what she had let herself in for, going on tour with me, when the only thing I could seem to emote around her was sullenness.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ she said, right on cue.
Seconds later, I heard her chatting to Luca, a guy I had worked with a couple of times and who had seemingly taken Lira under his wing. He was just about the only cast member I had not heard bitching about her.
She laughed again, a rumbling belly laugh I had never heard in Paris because, well, everything between us had felt too intense to be funny. This was a side of her I had never known existed. I wondered briefly about the other parts of her I would never get to know.
‘Do you want to tell me what is going on?’ asked Carlos. ‘Between you and Lira? I have seen you be distant with people before, but nothing like this. Did the two of you have a relationship?’
‘Hardly. It was a hook-up. Years ago.’
Carlos nodded calmly. ‘You have hook-ups all the time from what I hear. What makes this different?’
I glanced across at Lira, hoping I might find the answer there.
‘Lascia stare, Carlos. It is not different. It was a shock to see her, that is all.’
He looked at me like he did not believe a word coming out of my mouth. ‘Have you talked to her about it?’
‘There is nothing to talk about! We spent a few hours together, so what?’
‘I do not want you doing anything to jeopardize the show. Speak to her, and soon,’ insisted Carlos.
‘Fine. Not a problem,’ I said.
Of course, I had no intention of doing any such thing. Talking to her would make no difference. I would still have to catch a train out to God knows where tonight and spend two hours dancing with her in a deserted studio, with her looking… the way she did.
Suddenly, she was beside me. I really hoped she couldn’t read minds.
