Page 137 of Tendu: Dancing in the Castle

“It’s not an exam,” I said, trying to lighten the mood as we arrived in my room.

“No,” he agreed. “But you must not take points off me if I cry. Because I might, Malphia. You know I do this.”

“Yes,” I said. “And I should get to go into the shower first, and let the water make it all steamy so you can’t see me so clearly.”

“There is no need for you to do this for me. But if it makes you more comfortable, yes, of course.”

Annoyed with us both for being so very, very polite, I went into the bathroom, got undressed quickly and stepped into the shower cubicle. I turned the water up hot, and the air steamed up.

“Are you even in here?” he said, joining me moments later.

“I’m here.”

Here. Just us. Nothing in between. We stood. I looked up at him. He looked down at me. Then he put one of his hands round my waist, and took my hand with the other, as if we were going to waltz. And that’s what we did, right there in the shower. Lovely slow dancing like at the Christmas party. I rested my head on his shoulder. He kissed my ear, and that changed things.

We kissed under the shower head, the water running down over us both, washing us clean, waking us up, like some sort of strange hot baptism.

“We did this in your flat,” I remembered. “Our first morning together.”

“With the chocolate pudding,” he added, lifting me up against the tiled wall as he had then.

We avoided nothing. He touched my scars. I didn’t draw away. He cried. I cried too. For everything, and then nothing. Because we were happy now. Bad things had gone on, but life went on too. We went on. Sex went on. And it was good. So good. So very good.

I had become so used to experiencing unpleasant physical sensations, I’d forgotten how wonderful my body could feel. And this, with the hot water and the steam, and Aleks, Aleks, Aleks. This was sublime.

I forgave him for being too gentle with me because how could he be anything else? He forgave me for immediately wrapping myself up in a towel after we got out of the shower. It didn’t really make sense anyway. My arms weren’t hidden.

Back in the bedroom, I dropped the towel and got into bed.

Aleks got dressed. “I want to stay, but I have class,” he explained.

“Will’s going to teach it for you.”

“Will?” he said, frowning. “You arrange this?”

I nodded, smiling.

“Malphia, Will does not know the specific limits of each student. You were given these notes before you started to teach them. I have to take the class myself.”

I sighed and sat up. “You’ve become a totally responsible teacher. I have to say, it’s not much fun.”

He smiled and came over to kiss me. “I am so happy that we are back in this place together. I love you so very much. And there can be more fun later. Tonight.”

“But what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Well,” he said, as if about to make a daring suggestion. “You could take part in the classes on your own timetable. Pasha’s workshop in the theatre? Is usually good, no?”

I shrugged, feeling no enthusiasm at the idea of doing such a thing. But Aleks left, and I was all alone and a bit bored. Or something like bored. Unsettled. Antsy.

I got out of bed and opened my leotard drawer. So far, since everything, in Aleks’s classes I’d only worn trackies and long-sleeved T-shirts. I took out the red leotard, that audacious and offensive item of dancewear. I put it on and pulled knitted warm-ups, tights and a short ballet skirt over the top. There. I could be audacious if I wanted now. No one was going to chain me to a wall for it.

I interrupted the workshop, being very late indeed, but didn’t apologise. Everyone seemed pleased to see me anyway.

“He didn’t go for me teaching his class,” Will told me.

I nodded.

The choreography they were learning on the stage was complicated. My brain felt slow and stupid, unused to complicated. My legs were stiff and sore. My feet didn’t like the pointe shoes. And the unsettled feeling was still with me, brown and grey and blue. It was hot and stuffy in the theatre, and I pulled off my top warm-up. Everyone looked. Everyone stared. I’d forgotten they hadn’t seen. How could I have forgotten that?

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