Page 25 of Take the Lead

A lthough I manage to keep my guilt about Beth at bay for the rest of the weekend – after she promised everyone at the Grape she wasn’t upset about leaving the show – it creeps back into my conscience on Monday morning.

As I make my way to the studio, my excitement about learning a new Fire on the Dance Floor routine is tinged with a sense that I don’t really deserve another chance.

But that sparks the determination to prove I really am worthy of my place in the competition this week. I want to get through to the next round, and I want to do it without any interference.

It turns out Aleksis feels much the same way.

‘It does feel a bit like we cheated, even if we don’t know for sure that we did,’ he says. ‘I even thought about withdrawing from the competition this weekend, but eventually decided not to. Better to draw a line under it and move on. Otherwise, we’re just letting Merle win.’

There’s determination in his voice when he continues.

‘So this is what I think we should do … we accept what’s done is done and we come out fighting.

We give it everything we’ve got this week, rehearse every minute and give the audience no choice but to give us a genuinely high score next Saturday.

We’ll have to work hard, but I promise to give it a hundred per cent from now on.

I’m sorry we got off to such a bad start last week. ’

I wave off his apology. ‘Let’s draw a line under that too. Fresh start this week and I promise I’ll work my arse off, too. Please tell me we haven’t got the tango, though.’

He holds up an envelope. ‘I haven’t looked yet. Sometimes I prefer to just see what unfolds rather than planning meticulously. I thought we could open it together.’

I glance up at him in surprise. How different this is to last Monday, when he couldn’t even look me in the eye.

I lean towards him as he pulls the card out of the envelope.

‘Bachata,’ he reads aloud, making my heart sink.

‘Oh no.’ I slump back against the wall. ‘Straight after Merle and Emilia’s? We’ll never live up to that performance.’

‘Hey, give me some credit.’ He sounds offended.

‘Sorry, that was no reflection on you. It’s just …’

‘Come on,’ he says, offering me a hand and pulling me upright again. ‘Let’s just get stuck straight in. We can do this, you know. We just have to work for it.’

And for the first half of the morning, I manage to brush off my doubts as Aleksis walks me through the basic moves.

But as soon as we progress to more complicated sequences, the pressure starts getting to me.

The harder I try, the more uncoordinated I seem to be.

I can’t shake the feeling that I’m never going to be able to deliver the dazzling performance I so desperately want to.

I grow increasingly despondent about how we’ll compare to Merle and Emilia.

When they danced together, it was intimate and sexy.

With Aleksis, despite our earlier bonding moment, I feel like there’s still a wall between us – and it shows.

I don’t know if it’s because I’m not totally relaxed around him, just in case he still secretly hates me for what I put Sofiya through.

But if we’re going to put on a show anywhere near good enough to keep us in the competition, we’ve got to find a way to break down this barrier.

I think about the turning point in my kizomba rehearsals with Merle.

It was after we had sex that everything really fell into place.

But that’s obviously not going to happen here.

It’s enough of a miracle that Aleksis and I are being civil to each other.

I’ll admit he does have a certain appeal now we’re not at each other’s throats, but I’m not going down that road again.

Aleksis remains patient with me while we go over a few of the steps again, but he must be able to tell I’m struggling.

He saves the day just before I have a complete meltdown by saying, ‘I’m getting hungry.

Do you fancy a quick wander around Brixton Market?

I think a half-hour break will do us good. ’

I agree that a brief change of scene might get me in a more positive frame of mind for the afternoon. He tells me not to be too hard on myself, it’s only day one.

We find a quiet corner in a pop-up café and sit down for coffees and cakes – carrot for him, chocolate brownie for me – and I notice he gets a fair few looks from the other female customers.

I guess Lucy’s not the only one who thinks he’s attractive.

But Aleksis seems oblivious to what’s going on around us.

His attention is on my cake. ‘Want to go halves?’ he asks eventually.

I can’t help laughing. ‘Sure, why not.’

We slide our plates into the middle and he pulls a corner off the brownie with his fork. It makes his whole face light up – which makes me reluctantly admit I can see why people might fancy him. I suppose he can be quite striking. If razor-sharp jawlines and piercing blue eyes are what you’re into.

‘Wow, that’s delicious,’ he gushes.

I taste his carrot cake and I’m just as impressed – as well as conscious that cake sharing is something I’d usually only do with a boyfriend. For a second I imagine we’re an actual couple, but I quickly shake the thought away. Where the hell did that come from? It’s only a cake.

While we drink our lattes, we chat about our interests away from the dance floor and I’m surprised to discover we have a few things in common.

We both love long walks in the countryside and lazy Sundays watching animated movies.

Sing is his favourite and The Secret Life Of Pets is mine, but we both have Up in our top three.

‘Even I welled up watching Up ,’ he admits when I tell him the opening sequence made me bawl my eyes out. I find myself liking the fact that he has a vulnerable side – and doesn’t mind admitting it.

We discuss our progress in the studio this morning and Aleksis wants to know if there’s anything he can do to help me relax more into the moves he’s been pulling together.

‘You’ll wish you hadn’t asked,’ I laugh, then instantly regret it because of course he wants to know what I’m talking about. I quickly try to backtrack, but he won’t let it go.

‘Come on, Kate. It’s all on us this week, remember? So if there’s anything you think we can do to improve our chances, now’s the time to tell.’

I rack my brains for anything else I can say, but when nothing believable springs to mind I end up blurting out the truth.

‘It’s just that … Oh boy, I can’t believe I’m going to come out with this … It’s just … well, I may have been told I dance a lot better after sex.’

I kick myself for saying it the second the words leave my mouth. They hang in the air for an awkward moment while Aleksis clenches and unclenches his jaw. I squeeze my eyes shut and wish I’d thought of something more appropriate. When I risk another peek, he can’t even look me in the eye.

‘Not that I’m saying we should,’ I babble, cheeks burning. ‘I panicked. I’m sorry. You put me on the spot.’

‘I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,’ he says eventually. ‘It sounds like something that arsehole would come out with.’ He hates Merle so much he doesn’t even use his name. ‘But I hope you realise that’s not what makes someone a good dancer. It’s about how you feel within yourself, not …’

He shakes his head and lets his words trail away, but they leave me berating myself on so many levels as we settle the bill and head back to the studio – for my big blundering mouth, for the gigantic spanner I’ve thrown in the works just when we were starting to get along, and more than anything else because he’s right, and I don’t know why I couldn’t see it before.

It wasn’t the sex that made me a better dancer, it was the fact that for the first time I was able to think of myself as being sexy.

So, like Aleksis says, I just need to find that self-confidence again.

I promise myself I’m going to try from now on.

If Aleksis, who hardly knows me, has faith in me, it’s high time I started believing in myself a bit more.