Page 16 of Slow Burn

Press coverage for Slow Burn had begun to trickle in and every single article mentioned my name and the fact I was the longest serving – and apparently most popular – dancer on an Italian show called Bring the Heat , which had secured the highest number of viewing figures on a Saturday night ten weeks in a row.

I knew that the shows we were performing in Venice, Florence, Rome and Milan had sold out already, which brought with it a huge amount of pressure.

Which, in turn, probably explained why I currently felt stressed and on edge the entire time.

‘What’s wrong, baby?’ asked Daniella, coming up behind me while I was grabbing some alone time at the back of the studio during a particularly tough rehearsal session, trying to get my head together.

Baby?!

She started massaging my shoulders and, while there was no denying it felt good, I didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. I shifted forward in my seat, hoping she’d get the message.

‘I’m not really a massage guy,’ I mumbled.

She dropped her hands and came to stand in front of me with her hands on her hips.

‘Let me help you.’

‘Let you… help me?’ I said, confused. What could she possibly help me with?

‘I want to relax you,’ she said, crouching down in front of me. ‘Why don’t you come over to mine tonight and I’ll cook? We can have some wine, some fun…’

I tried to give her a genuine smile, but really I just wanted to be left alone. I had specifically come to the back of the studio so that I did not have to speak to anyone. Next time I wanted to be alone, I was going to have to lock myself in the bathroom.

‘I have to rehearse tonight.’

‘Tomorrow night, then?’ she said, looking hopeful.

‘I have to rehearse every night.’

She stood up, seemingly irritated by my answer. ‘Rehearse what?’

‘My duets.’

I glanced involuntarily over at Lira, who was going through some steps with Carlos in another corner of the studio.

I was fascinated by her easy-going nature.

She had Carlos doubled over with laughter, and he never laughed; he was serious like me, usually.

I had known him for years and I had never heard him roar like that before – what had she said to him?

Daniella followed my gaze, landing on Lira.

‘I hope she’s going to take this more seriously once we’re out on tour. As dance captain, I’m going to have to keep a close eye on her.’

Carlos had appointed Daniella dance captain for the show, meaning she would be in charge of ensuring the choreography continued to be carried out exactly as we had rehearsed, and would deal with any problems when Carlos was not there.

I was sure she would do an excellent job, but, at the same time, I had a feeling that she was going to be particularly hard on Lira.

‘How long ago was it you knew Lira?’ she asked.

‘Thirteen years,’ I told her without thinking. Would it seem odd that I had remembered it so precisely?

Daniella laughed, seemingly relieved. ‘Where’s she been since then, then? Because I googled her and nothing came up, except something linking her to that provincial dance studio.’

‘It is a very nice, well-run studio space,’ I said, having no idea why I was defending James Jive or whatever it was called, when I had previously been bemoaning the fact it was outside of London myself. Also, why was Daniella doing internet searches on Lira?

‘Everyone thinks I should have been cast in the lead,’ said Daniella. ‘The entire cast is talking about it. We’re just not sure she’s cut out for a show of this calibre.’

Thankfully, Carlos called across the studio before I could answer, because it was a guarantee that Daniella would not have liked what I had to say. ‘Gabriele! Come over, please. Lira has suggested a new step that I think looks very slick. Come give us your opinion.’

Carlos was not an easy man to impress, so if she was managing it, she must be doing something right.

‘Better go over,’ I said to Daniella.

‘My door is open for you any time you want,’ she said in a low voice as I passed her.

I made a decision there and then to keep things strictly platonic between us, at least until the end of the run – I wanted things to be as drama-free as possible so that I could focus entirely on my performance.

There was no place for feelings in this company.

And yet, as I approached Lira, who was wearing skin-coloured leggings and a micro crop top – which, somehow, held her substantial and perfectly-formed breasts solidly in place, despite the apparent lack of actual fabric – I felt a rush of something inside me yet again.

Was it that her taut stomach was on show?

Was it the slim wrists and delicate fingers that made the intricate arm work we had choreographed look so spectacular?

Or was it that I suddenly wanted to skim my hands over every inch of her body again, a sensation I had never fully forgotten?

‘Let me see this step you have come up with, then,’ I said, putting my hands on my hips belligerently.

She showed it to me. Annoyingly, it was exquisite.

‘Do it again,’ I said, watching her.

Then the next time through, I joined in.

‘I like it,’ I said, addressing Carlos rather than Lira.

‘It was all Lira’s work,’ said Carlos, smiling at her proudly as though she was his protégé. I would not be surprised if he had shared the Cinderella-type tale of how he had found her with the press – I supposed it did make a pretty good story.

I nodded at Lira – it would have been rude not to – but I could not bring myself to say anything more.

She was watching me with those big, brown eyes of hers, perhaps wondering what she had let herself in for, going on tour with me, when the only thing I could seem to emote around her was sullenness.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ she said, right on cue.

Seconds later, I heard her chatting to Luca, a guy I had worked with a couple of times and who had seemingly taken Lira under his wing. He was just about the only cast member I had not heard bitching about her.

She laughed again, a rumbling belly laugh I had never heard in Paris because, well, everything between us had felt too intense to be funny. This was a side of her I had never known existed. I wondered briefly about the other parts of her I would never get to know.

‘Do you want to tell me what is going on?’ asked Carlos. ‘Between you and Lira? I have seen you be distant with people before, but nothing like this. Did the two of you have a relationship?’

‘Hardly. It was a hook-up. Years ago.’

Carlos nodded calmly. ‘You have hook-ups all the time from what I hear. What makes this different?’

I glanced across at Lira, hoping I might find the answer there.

‘ Lascia stare , Carlos. It is not different. It was a shock to see her, that is all.’

He looked at me like he did not believe a word coming out of my mouth. ‘Have you talked to her about it?’

‘There is nothing to talk about! We spent a few hours together, so what?’

‘I do not want you doing anything to jeopardize the show. Speak to her, and soon,’ insisted Carlos.

‘Fine. Not a problem,’ I said.

Of course, I had no intention of doing any such thing. Talking to her would make no difference. I would still have to catch a train out to God knows where tonight and spend two hours dancing with her in a deserted studio, with her looking… the way she did.

Suddenly, she was beside me. I really hoped she couldn’t read minds.

‘We should probably rehearse the rumba tonight,’ she said, sounding a little hesitant.

Hardly surprising – the dance was slow and intimate and I was not convinced I trusted myself to do that alone with her. Not yet, not until I had got rid of all of this chaos in my head.

‘You know, I was thinking that we could skip training this evening,’ I said. ‘I am a little burnt out. Missing one session will not hurt. We can make up for it at the weekend.’

I knew how dedicated she was to making the routines perfect, and that this would disappoint her. I was disappointed in myself – jobs always came first, so why was I struggling to put things in perspective this time?

‘We’re cutting it fine as it is. We need every second together if we’re going to have the duets ready to go for opening night,’ she said snippily.

Carlos clapped his hands. ‘Let us run the group salsa, please, everyone!’

The funky opening bars to the track played out and I reluctantly took my place on the dance floor, willing myself to be the professional I knew I could be.

I almost went back on what I had said about rehearsals as the feel of Lira’s hand in mine as I rotated her around the room settled me, our arms crossing and uncrossing, followed by the thrill of spinning her faster and faster. I was lulled into a false sense of security that it would all be okay.

But then I accidentally looked into her eyes and I was gone again. I felt like I was losing my mind.

‘I really need a break tonight. Tomorrow we do the rumba,’ I said.

‘Whatever,’ she said, pulling away from me the second the music stopped.

For a second – and I had no idea what possessed me – I held onto her hand tightly, not wanting her to go, not like this.

But then she tugged harder, wrenching herself away, giving me a dark look as she stalked off to the changing rooms. Great – she was really upset.

And if Carlos found out about this, he would not be happy.

Deciding some fresh air was what I needed, I stepped out on the street, leaning against the damp, dark walls lining both sides of Langley Street.

There was something calming about being out here and I breathed in the thick London air – the gloominess was a sharp contrast to the energy, bright lights and noise inside the studio.

Deciding my current mood could not continue, I scrolled absent-mindedly through the contacts on my phone, an endless list of people from the dance world and women whose faces I could barely remember.

I chose one at random – Alexandra. I had a vague memory of spending a pleasant night at her place somewhere in West London.

It is me, Gabriele. Are you free tonight?

By some stroke of what I could only call misfortune, Lira and I happened to leave rehearsals at exactly the same time that afternoon, and since we were both headed towards Leicester Square tube, I could hardly avoid talking to her.

My meet-up with Alexandra was not until later, so I was heading home for now, and Lira would be going to Victoria to catch her train to Castlebury.

We would have a few tube stops together to endure – surely I could make safe conversation with her for that short amount of time?

‘Not changed your mind about rehearsals, then?’ said Lira, hoisting her bag over her shoulder as we turned onto Long Acre.

‘It is important to look after ourselves when on tour,’ I said, sounding worthier than I had intended to. ‘A night alone is just what I need and then I will be back on full form, I assure you.’

This was not entirely a lie. The casting process had exhausted me and I recognized the familiar feeling of burnout bubbling beneath the surface of everything I did.

‘We should really try to talk about what happened before… in Paris,’ said Lira, her voice faltering a little, as though she was only saying this because she thought it was what she should say, not because she wanted to discuss the past any more than I did.

I wondered whether Carlos had spoken with her too.

‘What is done is done,’ I said, hoping that would shut it down. ‘I do not think it would be helpful, not when there is so much at stake.’

‘That’s exactly why we should talk about it. Don’t you think it’s affecting the show? We can barely look at each other, let alone speak. Why don’t we try and have a conversation about it? It can’t get much worse, can it?’ said Lira.

‘I disagree,’ I said defensively. ‘I think we are managing very well under the circumstances.’

‘But what are the circumstances?’ she ventured as we waited to cross the road. I had no means of escape unless I wanted to step out in front of traffic or turn back in the direction I had just come from. The traffic was tempting.

‘I am not sure what you mean,’ I said, hearing the dismissive tone in my own voice and knowing I was being difficult, but seriously, she wanted to talk about this now ?

‘Because I only have fond memories of that night,’ she said. ‘I mean, it was a challenging time for me, but—’

‘Challenging how?’

My interest was piqued. Was she talking about us?

She hesitated, as though struggling to decide whether to say more or not. I thought this might be the longest conversation we had had since she waltzed into that audition room a few days ago, and I was intrigued.

‘Everything was about to change for me that night,’ she explained. ‘And I was trying to get my head around it, make peace with it, but then you asked me to dance and—’

‘Hey, guys!’

Before we were interrupted, I had been about to ask Lira what she meant by everything changing for her.

Irritated, I turned to see Daniella, who had somehow shoehorned her way in between the two of us and was grinning up at me.

I should be thankful; I had been trying to avoid having this conversation and now Daniella had given me the perfect excuse.

So why did I suddenly want to hear more about what had been going on in Lira’s life back then?

‘Heading to the tube?’ asked Daniella chirpily, either oblivious to the tense atmosphere or pretending not to notice.

‘We are,’ said Lira, thankfully stepping in. ‘Where do you live, Daniella?’

And as the two of them began to talk, I wondered what Lira had been about to tell me; whether I would ever find out and whether it would explain what happened the night she left me in a hotel room without so much as a goodbye.