Grease Monkey Jive (11 page)

“We were just cooperating. Jenni was nervous.”

“So, you thought you could just do her part for her?”

“Yeah, isn’t that cooperating?”

“No. That’s being a bully.”

Dan stopped dead and Alex bumped up against him again, breathing in his just-washed soapy scent. “What do you mean a bully?” he said and she could tell from his ground coffee voice he was irritated.

“You were dominating Jenni. That’s what bullies do. They take advantage of someone else’s weakness.” Alex pushed forward to try to get Dan moving again, but he was a heavy mass of stillness, tensed muscles, and taunt limbs.

“You think I was taking advantage of Jenni?”

“I think you were trying to do her job for her and that means she wasn’t going to learn anything.” Alex could see Scott partnering Jenni, letting her lead him slowly around the room. Now she was learning something more than how to giggle at Dan.

“I was trying to help her.”

“That’s the worst kind of bully. They pretend they’re doing you a favour while they get their own way, even when they know it’s to the other person’s disadvantage.

Alex probably should have expected Dan’s reaction. He dropped his hands and reefed the blindfold off, stepping back from her, anger making his blue eyes ice cold. “I think I’ve had enough of being lead around,” he said, his voice a hot growl and Alex saw Scott’s head jerk up and his questioning look in their direction.

Dan was aware he’d spoken too loudly, aware too that he’d let Alex push one of his buttons. Jimmy was a bully through and through so to have that tag tossed at him by this stuck-up bitch was enough to make him lose it. But he was also aware of the close proximity of the other couples, the eyes of all the women drifting his way, and that to do anything else but back down off the ledge was playing right into Alex’s accusation.

He pushed out a long, hard exhalation. “I’m sorry. I thought I was helping. I didn’t realise it was the wrong thing to do.” He didn’t mean what he said, but it seemed like what Alex would want to hear.

“That’s ok, Dan, that’s why we do this exercise. It’s harder than it seems.”

“Want to try again?” He held out the blindfold, hoping Alex would take it and tie it round his eye so he could shut out the look in her eyes that branded him a club wielding bully boy, but Scott’s voice cut through the moment.

“Five minute break everyone.”

Dan was still holding the blindfold, looking after Alex’s departing figure when Mitch said, “What was that about?”

He opened his mouth to clue Mitch in to the conversation when it dawned on him Alex was right. What he’d done to Jenni was exactly what Mitch had done to Belinda. He wouldn’t have thought of it as bullying. Certainly not the kind of thing he’d been subjected to as a kid, Jimmy’s loud shouts and physical threats, the intimidation of his stare and the aggression in just the lift of his hand. It was more a killing with kindness effect that seemed to be the opposite behaviour, but was just another side of the same coin.

He’d thought he was making it easier for Jenni, but instead he’d prevented her from learning. He’d dominated her, just as Mitch had tried to prevent Belinda from doing things like talking with other men and having a girl’s nights out without him.

Belinda had accused Mitch of smothering her and Dan was beginning to understand what that meant. It wasn’t an accusation he’d ever had thrown at him, but maybe it wasn’t all that different from making a decision to let someone remain helpless.

“I think I’m learning more than the friggin’ waltz,” he said, clapping Mitch on the shoulder. “But when I work out what, I’ll let you know.”

When Scott called the class to order again they abandoned the blindfolds and went back to the traditional roles of leading and following.

With Jenni back as his partner, Dan said, “Sorry about leading. I didn’t realise you wouldn’t learn anything,” and this time he meant it.

Jenni giggled, batted her eyelashes at him, and stroked her hand down his chest. She said, “I like it when you take the lead,” leaving Dan more confused. How was a bloke supposed to know how to act when women like Alex and Jenni were so different? He shook his head, took Jenni’s hand, and focused on waltzing her around the room.

In the corner by the stereo with Scott and Alex, Trevor Wallace eyed Dan. Trevor was waiting to teach tonight’s advanced Latin class and watch Alex and Scott’s rehearsal immediately afterwards.

“Hmm, he is a handsome lad, don’t you think, Scotty?” Trevor waved a hand towards Dan.

“He has a kind of brutal charm. Can grunt with a certain finesse,” said Scott.

“I think he’s quite beautiful.”

“If you like Neanderthal men, sure.”

“Now, now. Look at him. Look at that build. A mite too tall to make a great dancer, but he has that gorgeous expanse of chest. A surfer you said, Alex? Ooh, very physical. Accounts for those broad shoulders – delish – and the washboard abs, rub a dub, so to die for.”

“He does have a nice face,” Scott conceded.

“Nice! Nice is for colour schemes and to make ugly girls feel better. He’s like some fallen angel. Look at those eyes, that hair. I could just...”

“Trev,” said Scott.

“What did you say his name was?”

“Dan Maddox.”

“Oh my God. I wonder if he’s that Maddox?”

“What Maddox?” said Alex.

“Before your time, doll. Janelle Maddox was one of the state’s most beautiful ballroom dancers. She was national champion for, like, forever. A fabulous girl, but married to some grease monkey truck driver. No one understood why, except apparently he was quite the looker. Anyway, it didn’t go well and she left him while she was pregnant for another man, another dancer, Bobbie Northern. It was quite the scandal.”

“Is this going to get relevant any time soon, Trevor?” said Scott.

Trevor huffed. “Fast forward about ten years, Bobbie was a drinker and he crashed his car and killed himself and Janelle. It was a national tragedy. But Janelle’s little boy wasn’t in the car, so the kid had to go and live with his grease monkey father.”

“And you think Dan is that little boy?” Alex gasped.

“That might explain how...” said Scott and Alex cut in with, “he moves so well.”

“What?” said Trevor, now angling to include Scott again.

“He’s learning really quickly and he knows things that we haven’t taught them yet,” said Alex.

“I’m right, aren’t I? He must be Janelle Maddox’s kid. Is he any good?”

“No. He has two left feet and no flexibility. He’s as stiff as a surfboard,” Scott grizzled.

“But he does have great balance, good posture, and he’s strong and quick,” said Alex, watching Dan laugh, watching Jenni flirt with him as they moved around the room. He’s also pig headed, domineering, a bully, quick to anger, and, as Mum would say, thinks he’s God’s gift to women, she thought.

Mitch was way past counting the sheep, he was frolicking in the paddock with them, when his phone rang, jolting him out of the flock and back to the world. He grabbed his phone and an unrecognisable female voice slurred, “I really liked you.”

“Hello?”

“I really liked you.”

No, couldn’t ID that voice. A wrong number and a drunk dial, double points for cruelty. “Who is this?”

“It’smeee.”

He groaned. “Ok Smee, nice talking to you.”

“Done go. I really liked you.”

“Ok, that’s good, you really liked me. Hang up now.”

“No. It’s bad.”

“Sorry about that. I’m hanging up now.”

“Please done go. Talk to me.”

He had a finger over the call-end button when it hit him who the drunk-dialler was. “Belinda?”

“What?”

“Belinda, is that you?”

“Told you it wazmee.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No. Are you?”

He laughed, “No.” He was tired after a full day at work, after dance class, after hanging back to watch Belinda’s class as well, but he was stone cold sober. “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

“No.”

Mitch heard breathing and then, “I really liked you.”

“That’s like in the past, yeah?” It made sense to check. Tonight every look she’d thrown him had been poisonous. So why was she ringing?

“Way past.”

Yeah that made sense. “Way past your bedtime.”

“S’not.”

He was properly awake now and starting to worry. “Bel, where are you?”

“I’m here.”

“Where’s here?”

“That’s for me to know and you to fine out.”

“Are you home, sitting down? You’re not trying to drive are you? Are you alone?”

“What do you care?”

“Because I want you to be safe.”

“You want me to be a cotton bud.”

“I want you to be a cotton bud?” he repeated, as though saying it might make it sensible.

“Wool.”

“I want you to be wool?” Nope, still none the wiser.

“Wrap me in cotton wool.”

“Oh.” Ok, that did make sense.

“I really liked you, but I don’t like wool.”

“I’m sorry, Bel. I didn’t mean to smother you.” He sighed. What a waste of an apology. She wouldn’t remember this and he’d have to find a way to do it all over again.

“You’re not sorry.”

“I am sorry.” He was. He’d come round to it. Dan had told him about the incident with Alex and the whole killing with kindness thing and, well, he’d done worse than that with Belinda. He really had tried to bully her into doing what he wanted and prevent her making her own decisions. Now that he got it, he felt ashamed about it. Like Dan with Jenni, it wasn’t what he’d meant to do at all.

“You’re not sorrrry,” Belinda slurred.

“I really am.”

There was silence again and breathing and then, “I really liked you.”

“Could you like me again – like in the future?” Mitch waited, he heard nothing at all. “Bel, are you still there?”

“No.”

“That’s no, you couldn’t like me in the future?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, now I’m confused. Start again. Would you give me a second chance?”

“No.”

“Why are you calling me?”

“I really liked you.”

Mitch sighed, “You won’t remember this, will you?”

“Course I will.”

“What did I just say?”

Silence. Some breathing. “I really liked you.”

Stretched out on his bed in the dark, Mitch smiled. Like any good builder, he had a plan. The conversation with Dan had planted the seed, but now Belinda’s call provided sunlight. Surely, if she still had his number, surely if she was prepared to say she had liked him, there was a chance to win her back.

He just needed to work on the forgiveness thing and have patience that she’d be kind and give him another chance. As he listened to Belinda breathing, he thought Dan was right, they were learning more than the waltz.

It was late, but Phil still wasn’t back. Alex had long since eaten, cling wrapped Phil’s portion of the meal she’d cooked, and retreated to the bedroom. It wasn’t much fun having a sleep over with Phil when Phil wasn’t here. Her two phone calls went straight through to voicemail and she was too annoyed to concentrate on her book.

Yes, he was busy, but too busy to call to say he’d be late? Even to text? How long did a text take, two seconds?

She lay in Phil’s king size bed under his moonlight-stained ceiling and contemplated going home and she was up and stuffing clothes in her overnight bag when she heard his key in the front door.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, leaning on the bedroom doorjamb. “Don’t go. I’m really sorry I didn’t call.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I would have, but Bruce asked me to join him for dinner with a client, and there was just no easy way to make a private call.”

“Are all your fingers broken then?” she said.

“What?”

“Somehow today you managed to break all your fingers. It must be very painful. I don’t know how you handled a knife and fork.”

“What, honey?”

“Phil, I understand that you couldn’t phone, but you couldn’t text me?”

“Oh.” Phil pushed off the doorjamb. “Don’t be such a nag, Alexandra. It’s late. Can we just go to sleep?”

“We can.” She grabbed her jeans and a t-shirt and moved towards the bathroom.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m getting dressed. I’m going home to sleep.”

“Shit.” Phil flung his suit coat on the bed and chased it with his tie. “What is it you don’t get about me being focused on my career here? I have to do these things. It’s not like it was part of my plan. I wanted to be here with you, but I can’t say no when Bruce wants something. You say you understand that, but clearly you don’t. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do to get you to understand.”

“Oh, I understand. I understand you’re so focused on your career you can’t give me two seconds and a text message to tell me I don’t need to cook for you or wait for you.”

“Alexandra, don’t you think you’re being a little overly dramatic, a little juvenile? Maybe a bit too much of Scott is rubbing off on you.”

Alex froze, her back to Phil, her bare feet on the tiled floor of the ensuite bathroom. “You think I’m being juvenile and dramatic because I think it’s common courtesy for you to tell me you’ve had a change of plans?”

She felt Phil come and stand behind her. “I think you are a beautiful, intelligent, wonderful girl who sometimes forgets that I’m doing this for both of us.”

Phil’s alcohol-flavoured breath feathered against her neck. Alex snapped, “How much did you have to drink tonight?”

“We had a cocktail and wine with dinner. I’m not drunk.”

She spun around to face Phil and caught him looking at her body in her short silk nightdress. His eyes were hooded, his expression lustful, and his intentions were clear; he wasn’t thinking about sleep.

“It’s after midnight. How long does dinner take?”

“It takes whatever time it takes and I don’t need to report how much I choose to drink to you. I do need you to calm down though. Calm down and come to bed, please.”

“I’m going home,” she said and Phil’s eyes snapped up to her face and his hand brushed over her flat stomach making her flinch. She didn’t like it when he drank. He was more inclined to insist on his own way and make it hard for her. She had a sudden memory of the look on Dan’s face when she’d called him on his bullying tactics in class. He’d been annoyed, but also shocked and wounded. She wondered what Phil would do if she called him on his now.