Page 40 of Slow Burn

I stayed with Gabriele all night, just holding him. At one point, I must have fallen asleep, but I had the feeling that he’d barely closed his eyes at all. As we walked to the theatre together the following morning, I thought he looked worse than he had the night before, if that was even possible.

‘Did you get any sleep at all?’ I asked, as we waited for a bright yellow tram to pass before crossing the street.

‘Maybe an hour,’ he said. ‘I had another message from my mother. She wants me to let people know – extended family, Papa’s friends – so I spent all night working out exactly what I was going to say to everyone. Later I will need to make some calls.’

I squeezed his hand in sympathy. ‘And you booked a ticket home?’

‘Yes. I leave for Florence on the 5pm flight.’

When we arrived in the auditorium, Daniella was already on stage, talking Luca through the steps for the salsa that Gabriele and I usually danced together.

As dance captain, it was her role to step in and take charge, and I imagined she would have been revelling in the authority it gave her under less awful circumstances.

I swallowed sharply, suddenly thrown by the realization that I might never dance with Gabriele again, certainly not on this stage, possibly not at all, and the thought took my breath away.

I reminded myself that this was not about me.

That it was selfish to even consider myself at a time like this.

Daniella ran over to hug Gabriele and Luca patted him awkwardly on the back.

‘Sorry about your dad,’ he said to Gabriele.

Gabriele grunted in response. He probably didn’t trust himself to speak.

‘Okay, we have work to do,’ said Daniella, clapping her hands together. Lira, Luca, up on stage. Let’s start with that salsa I just showed you, Luca.’

I did as I was told, putting on my Latin shoes, getting up on the stage.

There was no music as we marked out the steps, and I corrected Luca here and there, but Gabriele had been right: he had learned the steps remarkably well already.

If only it was as simple as that, because I felt clunky in his arms. I couldn’t explain it – when I danced with Gabriele I felt light and beautiful and capable of anything.

Dancing with Luca was hard work. When he looked into my eyes, I felt nothing, and when he put his hands on my waist, it was as though he was going through the motions, as though if he could have got out of touching me, he would have done.

Why was it so difficult? Out of everyone in the cast other than Gabriele, I was probably closest to him.

I’d confided in him, we’d gossiped together, I really liked him and hoped we’d stay in touch.

So why couldn’t we generate the chemistry we needed for this dance?

I swallowed my unease and carried on, trying to smile, trying to look as though it was okay, because Gabriele was watching with a frown on his face and I didn’t want him to worry.

I didn’t want him to know that suddenly I was dreading tonight, having to perform the steps I’d previously loved, with someone who just appeared to be going through the mechanics of it all instead of really feeling it, like I knew both Gabriele and I did, night after night.

‘Let’s try with the music,’ said Daniella, also looking concerned.

Luca and I took our places on stage.

‘Am I doing okay?’ Luca whispered to me.

‘Sure,’ I said, smiling reassuringly. ‘And relax. I know it’s hard, you’re probably still trying to remember the steps. But let’s focus on our connection this time. Let’s really go for it.’

‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This is supposed to be what I wanted, a chance to take the spotlight, and there’s nobody I’d rather dance with than you. It’s just I feel so bad for Gabriele. And I know I’m not going to be able to recreate what the two of you have together.’

‘You don’t need to. Our dances will be different, but they’ll be just as good,’ I said, praying I was right.

‘Five, six, seven, eight!’ yelled Daniella.

As Luca and I moved around the dance floor, trying to generate the heat and fun the salsa required, I gave myself a talking-to – I had to pull this together.

We’d all worked so hard on this show, it couldn’t fail now, and if we flunked the duets, I’d feel as though it was all my fault as the less experienced dancer.

There was no doubt that Luca was a beautiful performer, so all we needed to do was find the connection and everything would be fine.

It might not feel fine, but it would probably look it, and that would have to be good enough, given what had happened.

At the end of the dance, Daniella and Gabriele were both on their feet, whispering urgently to each other.

Neither of them seemed happy, especially Gabriele, who kept raking his fingers through his hair and gesticulating with his hands.

Shit, had it really been that bad? I mean, it had felt bad, but I was sure I’d done enough to make it look good.

‘Come down here, please, both of you,’ barked Daniella.

Okay, clearly not.

‘Was that any better?’ asked Luca hopefully.

Gabriele rounded on him immediately. ‘No, Luca, it is still not working. The two of you have zero chemistry. None! It was like two wooden planks had been forced to dance together.’

‘Gabriele, be kind,’ said Daniella, hiding a smirk.

I felt my skin begin to flush – I’d never seen Gabriele like this, not with other dancers, not with me. Planks of wood? I knew it hadn’t been that bad.

‘It was our first run-through,’ said Luca, clearly panicking. ‘We can work on it.’

‘I expect you to be able to make a dance look sexy,’ said Gabriele, raising his voice. ‘But the way you performed it, you are going to have a bored audience leaving in droves during the interval!’

I dug my thumbnail into the palm of my hand to stop myself from reacting. I was supposed to be a professional dancer now, one who could take criticism and negative feedback. It was just that it was Gabriele doing the criticizing. And also because I knew he was right.

‘So what do you suggest?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. This wasn’t the real Gabriele; he was grieving, stressed. ‘How can we fix this?’

‘This is what we need to work out,’ said Daniella. ‘Steps we can work on, but a lack of spark is more difficult to work with.’

‘Lira, what about your old dance partner? The one you won the World Championships with?’ asked Gabriele.

‘Tomas?’ I asked, wondering why he was bringing him up.

Tomas and I had had that brief exchange when he saw I’d made the cast of Slow Burn , but I could count the number of times we’d spoken to each other recently on one hand.

Sedi and Nolo used to tease me that he’d been in love with me, but it wasn’t that – at least, I didn’t think it was.

And I’d felt terrible, because when my parents asked me to run the studio, they hadn’t given a second thought to the impact that their decision would have on Tomas’s future.

‘He is still dancing. I saw he was in something in Brazil,’ said Gabriele, warming to his subject. ‘But I think the show was about to finish. Would he be free? The two of you work well together, yes?’

‘We used to.’

‘But you could slip back into it, right? Can you call him? Ask him if he can step in and do the Italian leg of the tour with you?’

‘Um…’

‘Please, Lira. It is the best solution.’

I looked at Daniella, who nodded in agreement. And then I looked at poor Luca, who was looking tired and humiliated and as though he wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

‘If that’s what you want,’ I said, standing up, fishing my phone out of my bag. ‘Let me speak to him.’