Dance Till You Drop

Chapter 2

As I was plaiting my hair for pointe a couple of days later, my father poked his head round the door.

"Rebecca?" His voice is cheerful.

"That's me." I respond, slightly irritated that he should ask if it were me - who else could it be?

"I'm going out in half an hour with a few friends - I won't be late. You can get yourself to dancing, can't you?" I could, and it wasn't as though I had a lot of choice in the matter, but I worried. It wasn't like him not to specify which friends.

"Yeah, sure. Have fun!" I smiled, realising that, actually, visiting the studio might well be as painful for him as it was for me. Dancing had always been Mum's field of expertise, and without her I guess that place wasn't much fun for him. I was lucky that I had many good friends around me to help, and surrounding yourself with people who make you feel better must be just what he was doing. So I set my worries to rest and got on with my hair. I'd walk to dancing.

I did walk, but the evening was crisp and frosty, so I wished I didn't have to. Pointe soon warmed me up, though, and I loved the plan for us to do a Nutcracker style dance, as some of the dances involving pointe were very impressive. This was an all girls' class, but I didn't mind not seeing the new guy again, as I was preoccupied with learning the dance, and he would have had to already be quite experienced to be allowed to do pointe instantly. The pionte class was effectively the elite group of us - or the people who had been dancing there for a long time.

It was nearly nine when I got back home, so I got myself something to eat, and settled down to watch a film, reasoning that if Dad wasn't home by the time it finished I was allowed to worry.

He wasn't.