Grease Monkey Jive (7 page)

“That makes no sense,” said Mitch.

Dan’s head was down. Ant had never seen him quite so un-Dan like, all the natural confidence stripped out of him, over a little lapse of judgement with Fluke’s sister. It didn’t make sense, but then Fluke was up on them now, so he shut up to see what would happen.

For a while, nothing. The four of them floated over a couple of sloppy sets and it looked like nothing interesting was going to happen outside of nature doing its thing. The swell was too full to be useful for anything but long boards, but the waves of anger coming off Fluke were too pounding to ignore.

“Cough it up, Flukey, before you choke on it,” Mitch said.

Fluke just closed his eyes and shook his head. He’d never been so disappointed in a mate before. Never thought anything Dan could do would make him feel this way. Katie wasn’t blameless, but surely Dan knew better. All that talk about wanting to change, have real relationships with women. Who was Dan fucking kidding? Fluke looked across at Dan, trying to measure his thoughts from his expression. Was he genuinely sorry or just playing at it? He couldn’t tell. He face-planted his board to paddle back to shore. When he got level with Dan, he said, “Half the sky, Dan. Remember that, half the sky.”

It was no surprise Fluke didn’t join them for breakfast, but it increased Dan’s self-loathing. Their pigtailed waitress was even aware he wasn’t himself, the arbitrary marshmallow on the saucer of his second cappuccino her way of trying to cheer him up.

He looked at the fluffy bit of confectionery, sweet and pink, a girl’s colour, and he thought about how he’d confused his own reflection with Jimmy’s. He had no idea how to change his life, how to approach it differently. There was no understanding aunt or female cousin or kindly lady neighbour to turn to for advice. At a pinch he could’ve talked to Fluke’s mum, but that was screwed up now. He lived in a world of men and right now that world was hurting him.

“Go easy, mate,” said Ant. “Fluke’ll come round.”

“It’s not about Fluke. It’s about me. He has every reason to want me dead. I’m not happy with my life, boys. Need to make some changes. I just don’t know where to start.”

“If it’s not about Fluke, then I still don’t get why you’re so cut up,” said Mitch.

Dan looked at Mitch for a long time. Long enough for Mitch to know it wasn’t that he had food on his face or something dumb like that. “It’s about Belinda too,” he said eventually.

“What about Belinda? What has she got to do with you fucking up with Fluke’s sister?”

Dan sighed, “Nothing. I can’t explain myself. I just know that I screwed up with Katie for the same reason you screwed up with Belinda.”

Mitch blinked at him in surprise and Dan pointed at Ant. “And you’re just as much of a whore as I am. Fluke is the only one of us who knows how to have a conversation with a woman lasting more than fifteen minutes not fuelled by alcohol with no expectations of being in her pants.”

“If Fluke’s got it so right, how come he’s a complete loser with the chicks?” said Ant.

“That’s just it. The fact that we call them chicks. That we think so little of them, think they’re disposable, that’s the problem.”

“It’s not like they stop us, Dan. It’s not like every chick you’ve ever tapped hasn’t been equally hot for you. Half the time they’re throwing themselves at you,” said Ant.

Dan sighed. “That’s what makes this so bloody confusing.”

“Belinda wasn’t disposable,” said Mitch, rearranging the sugar satchels in the bowl.

“I know, mate, and that’s why you want her back. Maybe that’s the point, to find the chicks–” Dan shook his head and corrected himself “–women, who aren’t disposable and then work out how to stick with them.”

Mitch nodded. “Ok, I get it. But I have no idea how to get Bel back.”

Ant clattered his tiny espresso cup back into its saucer. “You’ve both got rocks in your thick heads. This is our time to play the field. We don’t get this again, unless we’re Dan’s Uncle Kev,” he snickered. “Eventually we’ll get hooked and have to play house and be nice. I’m not doing that till I have to.”

“You know you’re the worst of us with the double standard,” said Dan, glaring at Ant. “That’s what Katie called it. She was right. You’re happy to screw anything that looks at you, but when you’re ready to settle down, you’ll pick a great Italian girl who never played around too much, doesn’t have much of a history, and is the perfect accompaniment to your perfect life.”

“And what the fuck is wrong with that?” said Ant.

‘It’s just wrong. I can’t tell you what I mean. Where’s Fluke and all his words when I need him? It’s just wrong. Why is there one standard of behaviour for us and one for the women we want to admire?”

“Because we got lucky enough to be born men and that’s the way it is. Don’t come on all holier than thou with me Dan, mate. That’s how you live, that’s how all the men in your family live and there’s nothing fucking wrong with it,” thundered Ant. He was red in the face and thoroughly pissed off. “I get enough of this crap at work: equal opportunity, positive discrimination, professional ethics, quotas, and anti-bullying.”

“If Fluke were here, he’d say something smart right about now,” said Dan.

“If Fluke were here, we wouldn’t be snarling at each other in the first place,” snarled Ant.

Off topic and out of nowhere, Mitch said, “Dan, do you remember your mum much?”

“Where’s that coming from?” said Ant, reeling back in his chair.

Dan turned to face Mitch, ignore Ant. “Some. Why do you ask?”

“Did your dad ever talk about her?”

“Christ no. He hated her for leaving him and then he hated her worse for dying and leaving me with him.”

“I think that might’ve made a difference, if our mothers had been in our lives,” said Mitch softly.

“Maybe.” Dan remembered when Mitch’s mother died of breast cancer and what it did to Mitch when his father re-married and he didn’t gel with his new stepmother. He’d often wondered how different his own life would’ve been if he’d grown up with his mother and Bobbie instead of Jimmy.

“Bullshit,” said Ant. “You’ve just finished telling me I’m the worst of us and my mother is alive and kicking and in my face on a daily basis.”

“Yeah, and your mother would be horrified if she knew what you got up to and you know it. You keep it from her and she knows it and that’s why she’s up in your face,” said Mitch with deadly accuracy, leaving Ant open-mouthed.

“This’ll sound stupid,” said Dan.

“No more stupid than anything else you’ve said this morning,” said Ant.

“Ignore him,” said Mitch.

“My mum was a ballroom dancer. I remember she used to whirl me around the kitchen. She taught me to dance. I used to love it. She always smelled so good. She had the prettiest dresses.”

“That’s a really lovely memory, mate,” said Mitch.

“Jesus Christ,” said Ant rolling his eyes. “You’re not a five year old, Dan.”

“Shut the fuck up, Ant,” said Mitch. “Go on, Dan.”

“No. I don’t know what I was going to say anyway.”

“Well, I’ve got something to say,” said Ant, glaring at Mitch. “I’ve got a bet to make.”

“What, for something different?” said Mitch.

Ant ignored him. “Since you pussies are so keen to get in touch with your feminine sides and all that crap, I’ll bet you a thousand bucks apiece you can’t last a term or whatever at that ballroom place up on Darley Road.”

“That’s fucking cruel, Ant,” Mitch snapped.

“No. It’s not,” said Dan. He was thinking about his mother and how he’d loved to dance with her, Bobbie giving tips from the sidelines about how he should hold her and where he should look. How he’d avoided dance floors since she died. “I’m not speaking for you Mitch, but I’m up for it. Double or nothing.”

“You’re saying you’ll sign up for classes and when you drop out you’ll pay me two Gs?” queried Ant.

“I’m saying when I finish the term, you’ll pay me two Gs,” said Dan.

“I’m in,” said Mitch. “Same deal. I know that place. Wallace’s. Belinda takes classes there.”

“I’m in,” said Fluke, coming up behind Dan and Mitch. “I still want you dead, Dan, but I want to take money off Ant more, so I’m in too.”

Ant looked up at Fluke; he knew his money was done on him. The little man didn’t have two Gs to pay out, so he’d stick this bet or die trying. He looked at Mitch, being all supportive of Dan, but only responding to the heat of the moment. He felt safe betting Mitch would crash and burn. He looked at Dan. He wasn’t looking all sad sack any more. No more Bambi. Dan was looking determined, like whatever it was that ate Bambi for dinner. He figured he’d lose his dough on Dan. Again.

“Gentleman, we have us a bet.” Ant rubbed his hands together. This would sort the men from the boys and get Dan over whatever personal identity crisis he was going through. He reached across the table, snatched up the pink marshmallow, tossed it above his head, and caught it in his mouth, swallowing it whole. “Bring it on.”

“Alex, I will never be able to do that!” said Belinda.

“Yes, you will.”

“No, I won’t. I’m too heavy, I’m too clumsy. I’ll hurt Scott.”

“You won’t.”

“You better not,” laughed Scott.

Belinda groaned. “I’m scared.”

“You can do it,” said Alex, her hand on the other girl’s shoulder. It was Belinda’s turn to try Bird from the standing start. The other members of the class sat about on the floor watching wide-eyed. Alex knew the girls were all secretly glad it wasn’t their turn and the boys were put out they were benched while Scott did the heavy lifting

“You’ve got good elevation, good posture, you know the position. The worst that happens is you kick another man in the balls.”

The whole class laughed, Belinda loudest, and Scott just rolled his eyes. “Well, it won’t be the first time, girlfriend, and it won’t be the last.”

“Ready,” Alex said.

“Ready,” said Scott. He stepped back into a lunge position, his hands braced on Belinda’s hips. He looked her in the eye and said, “Jump girl,” and she did and he lifted her above his head.

Belinda said, “Wow!” as she arched her hips against Scott’s palms and death gripped his wrists.

“Let go of his wrists. You can do this, Belinda,” said Alex, looking up into Belinda’s open-mouthed wonder.

One hand at a time Belinda let go and slowly moved her arms to her sides, opening them up like wings. She said, “Wow!” again and her classmates laughed.

“I’m going to walk with you, Bel,” said Scott. “Keep your head up. Don’t look down.” He took two steps forward and Belinda gave a squeak of terror. “You’re doing good.” He walked in a small circle ending up facing the class, which meant Belinda was facing the door to the studio when it flung open.

She let out a gasp, grabbed for Scott’s wrists, and dropped her legs too quickly making Scott stagger in his attempt to stop her from crashing to the ground. He gave a grunt, an upward push, and caught Belinda in a sitting position, depositing her feet on the ground. “And that‘s how it’s not done,” he said dryly, turning to look at whatever had stuck a knife in Belinda’s self-confidence.

There were two men. One tall, one short. The tall one was handsome, the short one was a dead ringer for Ginger Megs. Both of them had their mouths open in surprise. Tourists. Clearly in the wrong place. Alex stepped forward to sort it out and Scott turned back to the class to continue.

When Alex got to the doorway another man had joined the first two. The third man looked like he’d walked off the set of a photo shoot, athletic, tanned skin, huge dark blue eyes, and a tangle of dark hair that fell over his forehead. He appeared to be the spokesperson and Alex wondered if he would sound as good as he looked. He looked outrageously gorgeous and, sadly, she figured he’d have an outrageous ego to match.

“Hi, I’m Alex Gibson. I’m a teacher here. Can I help you?”

“Hi. I’m Dan, this is Mitch and Fluke,” the gorgeous man said, gesturing to his mates in turn. His voice was warm and strong, like hot coffee when you needed a pick up.

“Fluke?” Alex turned to the redhead who said, “My name is Luke, but you can call me Fluke. Everyone else does.”

Alex smiled. They were tourists for sure, but they were interesting at least. She turned back to face gorgeous Dan. “So, why are you guys here?”

“We want to learn to dance.”

“You do know this is a ballroom dance school?”

“We do.”

“You want to learn ballroom dancing?”

“We do.”

Alex put her hands to her hips, “Seriously?”

“We’re serious, aren’t we boys?” said Dan. He knew Fluke was thinking two Gs and Mitch was thinking Belinda. He got a chorus of agreement, but the teacher just sighed. She was tapping her toe, her expression questioning. She was clearly impatient with them for some reason.

“We really are serious,” Dan said, frowning at Alex, thinking maybe they’d come at a bad time and should’ve rung first. Ant had really stitched them up this time.

“Do you know how many men want to learn ballroom dancing?” she asked.

“Er, no,” said Dan, flicking a look at Fluke, just in case he might miraculously know that one and getting a shrug in return.

“Usually, none.”

“But you have a bunch of blokes over there.” Dan nodded towards the class in progress.

“Yes. All of them have been coming for years and all of them started here originally because a wife or a girlfriend brought them.”

“Ah.”

“You see, I’m thinking you really don’t want to learn to dance and maybe this is a joke to you.”

Dan hesitated. It wouldn’t do to admit they were here to win a bet. That would be what this chick – what this girl, ah, woman – geez she was beautiful – would already be thinking. She had an oval shaped face with these incredible eyes, the colour of liquid amber, and this long silky black pony tail and a look that said she’d had enough of this and had somewhere better to be.

He simply hadn’t reckoned on enrolling being this hard. Staying the distance, doing the actual work, sure, but if they couldn’t get past this surprisingly beautiful ball buster with a bee up her backside just to enrol, the whole bet would be off and Ant would think up some other challenge and have them in cooking classes or book club to get in touch with their feminine sides. This was preferable. It was bound to be a workout of some sort and if it brought back memories of his mother that couldn’t be a bad thing.