THE LAST DANCE
By
Frank Riley
CHAPTER ONE
The 'Starlight' Dance studio, in the heart of downtown Sydney, nestled comfortably between the vast shoulders of the huge commercial buildings. It was but a tiny part of this city's life, yet it was just such an establishment that contributed unquestionably to the wide and varied nature of the city, indeed, to its very character.
The Wednesday evening traffic bustled to and fro. People on the streets hurried to their many destinations. Taxis honked their way through the congested streets, impatient of their assumed rights. Buses whooshed past shop awnings perilously close, and came to squealing halts at traffic lights. Some even stopped quite near to the studio. Claudia Heatherington, having alighted from one of those buses, arrived half-an-hour early for her dancing lesson with her teacher, Mr. Malcolm Smyth-White.
Lately she had taken to doing this, arriving early, that is, before every lesson she had. The reason was both simple and complicated: she came early purely to watch and admire the studio's dance director, Anthony Brand, take his own student, Kathy Lovett, through her paces; and, as much as she wanted to fight it, she was also finding it increasingly difficult to deny to herself that he was becoming more and more attractive her.
Her own teacher, Malcolm Smyth-White, was considered to be quite good in the dance fraternity, but not in the same class as Anthony Brand, not by a long mark; and what was more - he knew it. This knowledge of his inferiority tended to make Malcolm seethe whenever he watched Anthony dance. There was no-one in the whole state of New South Wales, perhaps even Australia, who could dance ballroom and Latin American dances as well Anthony Brand.
Malcolm Smyth-White was himself an extremely handsome man, tall, with jet-black wavy hair and a slim, but taut dancer's body. Any girl would swoon over him. But not Claudia. She had seen his jealous streak, she had heard him say derogatory things about Anthony Brand to her on many occasions during the lessons. Nothing so obvious as to give serious offence, but little things, niggling, irritating remarks that were designed to make Claudia form a poor opinion of Anthony, and, by extension, think more highly of Malcolm. Naturally, the reverse had happened.
Thus the last few months had passed, with Claudia turning up a half-hour, occasionally even an hour early, knowing full well that she was falling for Mr. Brand quite desperately, yet unable to make him aware of her feelings. Not through any lack courage, by any means, but because of the strict studio rules that forbade any fraternisation between staff and students. They even insisted on the quaint but archaic use of titles: Mr this, Miss that, Mrs. so-and-so.
But even without the rules, he hardly knew she existed, she was sure of that. She couldn't even ask the studio's manager, Karl Betz, to arrange for her to have lessons with Anthony, because, she felt, she was not of a high enough standard for him. Anthony Brand would surely argue against such a request; he might even refuse point blank if the manager asked him, and that would embarrass everyone, especially Claudia.
Besides, he already had his 'star' pupil in Kathy Lovett. She was not only stunningly beautiful - tall, blonde, and a perfect figure - she was also exceedingly rich as well. What hope had Claudia? Kathy Lovett could afford to have two lessons every day if it suited her, and most days, it did; whereas she, Claudia, could barely afford two lessons a week.
Claudia lived alone in a small flat near Bondi Beach, about a half-hour's journey by bus to the studio. Three years ago, when she had just turned nineteen, her parents had separated and she had been left with a choice of whom to live with. She had chosen neither, opting rather to move into a flat. How could she choose? She loved them both. Now she worked just to make ends meet. Although her job as legal secretary paid reasonably well, most of her money went on the paying of her rent and her dancing lessons. From time to time, her father would press her to accept money from him, and her mother often brought over masses of food and new dresses she had made for her. She was saving to buy herself a small car, but her bank balance was growing pitifully slowly.
