Page 155 of The Seven Sisters
‘Wow!’ Floriano stared at me in blatant admiration as I appeared in the lobby. ‘Talk about a phoenix emerging from the ashes.’
Instead of blushing and trying to bat away his compliment, I smiled warmly at him.
‘Thank you for the dress. You were right, it does suit me.’
‘Maia, you look absolutely stunning, and believe me,’ he said as he took my arm and we walked outside, ‘all I’ve done is enhance what you seem to have been so determined to hide.’ Standing at the top of the steps, he glanced at me. ‘Shall we go?’
‘Yes.’
We hailed a cab and Floriano directed it to a district called Lapa, which he said was one of the old parts of the city where the Bohemian set used to hang out.
‘Not safe alone, mind you,’ he warned me as we emerged into a cobbled street, lined with old brick buildings. ‘But tonight you have me to protect you,’ he said, as I held on to him in my unfamiliar heels, stepping carefully over the uneven surface. Pavement cafés were packed with drinkers and diners, but we turned off from the main street and eventually he led me down a staircase and into a basement.
‘This is the oldest samba club in Rio. No tourists here; it’s for the realcariocaswho just want to dance to the best samba music in town.’
A waitress smiled at him, kissed him on both cheeks, then led us to a battered leather booth in a corner. He ordered two beers, announcing that the wine was undrinkable as the waitress proffered us menus.
‘Please, Floriano, tonight is on me,’ I said, glancing at the dance floor, where the musicians were already gathered, setting up their instruments.
‘Thank you.’ He nodded graciously in acceptance. ‘And by the way, anything you want to say, Maia, say it in the next hour. After that, neither of us will be able to hear a word.’
Once we had ordered the house speciality, which Floriano had recommended, our beers arrived and he toasted his bottle to mine.
‘Maia, it’s been a pleasure to spend time with you. And I’m only sorry that it has to be cut short by me flying to Paris tomorrow.’
‘And I want to say thank you to you too. You’ve been wonderful to me, Floriano, really.’
‘So, you’ll agree to do my next translation?’ he joked.
‘I’d be insulted if you didn’t ask me. By the way,’ I said as some kind of bean stew arrived in front of both of us, ‘Yara had left a message for me when I arrived back at the hotel this evening. Apparently, Senhora Beatriz wishes to see me tomorrow morning,’ I announced as casually as I could.
‘Really?’ said Floriano between mouthfuls. ‘And how do you feel about that?’
‘You told me today was for fun,’ I reminded him playfully. ‘So I haven’t thought about how I feel.’
‘Good. But I can’t help wishing I could be there with you. Or at least to act as your chauffeur. It’s quite a journey we’ve been on in the last few days. And I’ve enjoyed being your passenger. Do you promise to tell me what she says?’
‘I’ll send you an email, of course.’
There was a sudden tense atmosphere between us, which we both filled with finishing the delicious stew in front of us. Floriano ordered another beer from the attentive waitress, but I refrained, settling for a glass of ‘undrinkable’ wine instead. In the background, the band began to play the sensuous music of the hills, and two couples took to the floor. I focused on them as they began to dance, their careful movements mirroring the exquisite tension that hung between Floriano and me.
‘So,’ I said, as more couples began to take to the floor, ‘will you teach me how to dance the samba?’ I offered my hand across the table to him, and he nodded. Without speaking, we rose and joined the crowd.
Putting one arm around my waist and using his other hand to encircle my fingers with his own, he whispered in my ear. ‘Just feel the rhythm running through you, Maia, that is all you need to do.’
I did as he suggested, and the pulse began to move through my body. My hips started to sway in time with his and our feet began to move, mine clumsily at first as I studied his and the other dancers’ around me. But soon, something instinctive took over and I relaxed and let my body move with his to the rhythm.
I’m not sure how long we danced together that night. As the floor became more crowded, I felt that we had all become a single homogenous mass; moving as one, a group of human beings simply celebrating the joy of being alive. I’m sure that to any professional outsider, my samba was amateurish and imperfect, but for the first time in my life, I didn’t care what anyone thought. Floriano steered and twirled me and held me close until I was laughing out loud with the sheer exhilaration of the moment.
Eventually, with both of us sweating profusely, he led me from the dance floor, grabbed the water from our table and drew me up the steps into the street for some fresh air, immediately polluting it by lighting a cigarette.
‘Meu Deus, Maia! For a beginner, that was incredible! You are a truecarioca.’
‘Tonight I feel it, thanks to you.’ I moved my fingers towards him to take the cigarette and a puff of it. I felt him watch me as I did so.
‘Do you know how beautiful you look at this moment?’ he murmured. ‘Far more beautiful than your great-grandmother. Tonight, you have a light burning inside you.’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘and it’s thanks to you, Floriano.’
