Page 32

When I stand in front of Baby, it feels right, unlike anything ever has before. I offer him my hand, and my heart soars when he takes it. I pull him to his feet and walk with him to the front of the room. I can hear whispering but I don’t care.

When we step up onto the stage the singing dies out.

The whole room falls silent as we reach the front, and I stand before the microphone and look out across the hall full of people.

Guests as well as staff, many of whom I’ve known since I started at Poplins and who I consider friends.

I’m sure some of them will judge me, may already have done so, but I want them to understand. I owe it to Baby.

“For the last few seasons, my staff and I have always led the final dance. I wasn’t supposed to this year, but I’m going to do it anyway.

So I’m going to dance, my kind of dance, with a special person who’s taught me a lot about life.

They’ve taught me that there are people who care about others and are willing to stand up for those who need it, no matter the cost. They’ve shown me the sort of person I want to be. Mr Francis Houseman.”

I carry the microphone to the side of the stage and pass a disc to Billy who’s waiting to load the record player.

I look back at Francis and give him a smile, which I hope is reassuring.

He breaks out into a stunning smile, one which lights up his whole face.

He’s the most beautiful person in the world.

As the opening bars of the music start, I take my place behind him, in the same way as when we started our show dance.

“You came back,” he whispers as I reach for his hand.

“I can’t stay away from you,” I say, as he spins away from me and then twirls back into my arms. I grip him by the hips and grind him into me a little.

From the back of the room I hear a few whistles and hollers, most likely from the dance staff.

We begin to dance, stepping and turning across the stage.

I can see that chairs are being removed from the dance floor and other people are getting up to dance too.

The entertainment staff, mostly my dance crew, are helping people to their feet and dancing with them.

After a few more steps, I turn and step backwards from Francis, releasing his hands.

I turn and then leap off the stage, into the middle of the dancers, then I dance my way down the room.

My staff fall into step with our formation dance, but with a few more raunchy moves we’ve been practicing.

We advance back down the room towards the stage.

Francis is standing proudly, still up on the stage, still smiling. I catch his eye and he nods at me; he understands.

He leaps off the stage, and when he lands, he dances a few steps and turns, mirroring what I did, then the dance staff part, leaving a clear path. Then he’s running towards me, and I grab him as he launches himself into the lift—it’s perfect .

I stare up at him. Joy is etched on his face and I match his elation. He wraps his arms around my neck as I slowly lower him, and I pull him close. He lightly touches his lips to mine, never taking his eyes off me.

“I love you, Francis,” I say, and he kisses me again, this time deeper but with a tenderness that makes my knees weaken. I cling on to him for a few seconds before I can hold my own weight again.

We continue to dance, aware that the whole room has joined in.

He tips his head to the side and I see a couple of old ladies dancing together.

I’ve seen them here for a few seasons now, always as companions.

It’s great to see them dancing as well. I notice a few other same-sex couples dancing, and feel proud that we may have managed to help other people feel confident to be themselves too.

I want some time alone with Francis, so I grasp him by the hand and I lead him towards the door. His dad stands in front of us, blocking our way.

“I know about Robbie and I’m sorry,” he says.

“Yeah?” It comes out belligerently. I don’t need his good opinion, nor do I feel like listening to him right now.

“I know when I’ve done wrong and I say so,” he says, and then turns to Francis.

“You looked really good, son. I’m sorry to you too.” Francis lets go of my hand and puts his arms around his father, who hugs him close.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Francis says, and his dad agrees. He holds a hand out to me and after a brief hesitation I take it. His grip is warm and he gives me an almost friendly smile. It’s a start .

Francis looks relieved, and a deep satisfaction that he can heal the rift with his father blooms in my chest.

I move toward the door but he stops me, and I turn to look at him.

“We’ll have time later, but for now, I just want to dance with you.

” He gives me a sly sexy smile that I’m never going to be able to refuse.

He tugs me back onto the dance floor and we weave our way into the middle of the crowd.

He puts his arms around my neck, and I wrap mine around his waist, fitting his slim body against me as we gyrate and sway to the rhythm.

“I want to dance with you forever,” I breathe against his neck.

“We can,” he whispers and turns his head, capturing my lips and imprinting himself onto my soul.