Page 49 of Take the Lead

A t Dee’s insistence we spend most of the following day in the dining room working on our routine, joining the others for a long lunch and again at the end of the afternoon to say goodbye before our drive back to the airport.

My eyes well up a bit in the back of the car as I watch them waving us off.

Apart from the slight wobble about the flight cancellation, it’s been such a stress-free stay, with so much love and laughter.

Now it feels like we’re heading back into a tornado.

Aleksis puts a comforting arm round me and kisses the top of my head, and I snuggle up against him, trying not to think about the pressure we’ll be under for the next few days.

But while we’re waiting to board our flight at the airport, I spot a Fire on the Dance Floor story trending in third place on the news feed on my phone – and it sends my anxiety through the roof.

“ Shock shake-up as Dean forced to quit FOTDF and Merle returns ,” the headline reads.

‘What the hell?’ I hastily click through to the story.

“ Fire on the Dance Floor’s Dean Mason has been forced to withdraw from the show just three days before the final after spraining his ankle during training ,” the story begins.

I nudge Aleksis and get him to read it with me over my shoulder.

It says Dean has been advised to rest for at least two weeks to avoid permanent damage, so the producers are bringing back Emilia and Merle – the show favourites before their unexpected departure – to take his place.

There’s a quote from Emilia that says, “ Merle and I will be at a disadvantage coming into it this late, as we’ve missed three days of training, but we’re going to do our very best to give the audience the best performance we can.

” And one from Dean, saying, “I’m absolutely gutted, but I’ve got to do what’s right for my body. ”

The article concludes, “It’s certainly a tough break this far into the competition but, sadly for Dean, the show must go on. You can find out how the other couples get on in the Fire on the Dance Floor final this Saturday at seven p.m.”

‘That jammy bastard,’ I fume. Why does Merle always seem to land on his feet?

‘It doesn’t change anything,’ Aleksis says firmly.

‘Yes, he’ll be tougher competition than Dean, but we’re well on the way with our routine and they haven’t even started theirs yet.

We’ve still got two full days and a bit of time on Saturday before the show.

We’ve still got as good a chance as we had before. ’

‘I know. It’s still annoying, though. I thought we’d seen the last of him.’

‘He would have been around anyway, even if they weren’t competing,’ Aleksis points out. ‘There’s bound to be some kind of everyone-on-stage celebration when the winner is announced. There always is.’

‘I guess so.’

I notice Sarah hurrying towards us, balancing out her camera bag with a giant duty-free bag in the other hand.

‘Come on, you two, it’s the last call for our gate. We don’t want to miss this one as well.’

‘Shit, we didn’t notice the time. Here, let me take one of those,’ Aleksis offers and we set off at a jog.

There’s no one else at the gate when we arrive, apart from one member of staff at the desk, who looks like she’s packing up.

‘Hurry,’ she says when she sees us. ‘You can still make it.’

We scramble to show her our passports and tickets then race down the tunnel to the plane once we’ve been cleared.

‘Take your seats quickly please,’ the stewardess instructs.

But because the plane is already full – we’re the last ones to board – there’s no space in the overhead lockers for Sarah’s camera bag and there’s no way it’s going to fit under the seat in front. The duty free can just about be squeezed in there, but the camera bag is far too bulky.

‘I’m going to have to take that,’ the stewardess, who has followed us up the aisle, tells her.

‘Take it where?’ Sarah asks. ‘It’s full of valuable equipment.’

‘It’ll have to go in the hold. There’s no room for it here.’

‘I really don’t want—’

‘It’ll be perfectly safe there, I assure you,’ the stewardess cuts in. ‘So if you’d like to take your seat, the flight is ready to depart.’

‘Are you sure we can’t squeeze it in one of the overhead lockers?’ Sarah pleads.

‘As you can see, we’re a full flight,’ the stewardess says impatiently. ‘And before you ask, there isn’t anywhere else to put luggage in the cabin. But it’ll be fine in the hold. We’ll take good care of it, I promise. Now can you take your seats, please.’

‘I’ll just pull a few bits out quickly.’

Sarah reaches for the bag at the same time the stewardess grabs it. ‘Please! You’re holding up the flight.’

Sarah relents and lets the stewardess win. ‘Fine. But there’s some very expensive equipment in there so please be careful with it.’

The stewardess doesn’t reply as she struts back to the front of the plane with the bag.

‘What a bitch,’ Sarah mutters as we slide into our seats.

‘She’s just doing her job,’ Aleksis says. ‘Don’t worry, that case is really sturdy and it’s got a decent lock on it.’

‘I was going to do some work on the flight, though. And now I can’t because I stuck the laptop in there with the camera.’

‘You’ll just have to talk to us,’ Aleksis grins. ‘Sorry!’

Sarah rolls her eyes and smiles, but I can tell it stays in the back of her mind for the rest of the flight, even though she banters with us until we’re back in London.

In arrivals, Aleksis offers to wait with her at the carousel.

‘Oh no, I don’t want to hold you two up. Get yourselves home. It’s been a great two days though. Your family are lovely, Kate. I felt really at home there.’

‘Ah, thanks.’ I give her a quick hug. ‘I hope you’re not here too long.’

Aleksis puts his arm round me as we walk to the taxi rank. There’s no one else waiting, so we’re on our way within minutes.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ he says, as we hold hands in the back seat. ‘For our second dance, maybe we shouldn’t do the bachata after all.’

‘So what, the cha-cha instead? The audience did love it. And it is a bit more fresh in my mind.’

‘Not the cha-cha, either. I was thinking of the salsa.’

‘The salsa?’ I splutter. Surely he’s not serious. ‘But that was our worst dance.’

‘I know, but we’re in such a different place now. You’ve improved so much and, if I remember rightly, things were a little strained between us when we did it last time. I’m still sorry about that.’

I shake my head to show it’s forgotten.

‘But if we do it again now,’ he continues, full of enthusiasm, ‘we can show everyone how far you’ve come since the show started.

And no one will be expecting it – they’ll expect us to pick one of our best dances – so it’ll be a big surprise.

It’ll show them how confident we are, that we’d pick our weakest performance and turn it into one of our best.’

‘Would we, though?’ I bite my lip, struggling to remember anything good about our first effort. ‘I was terrible last time,’ I remind him.

‘Which was mostly my fault. It’ll be different this time. We’ll make it more fun; a bit more Cuban. I think a really upbeat salsa will give the audience something to really get behind.’

I can see how much he wants me to love the idea, but I’m still not convinced.

‘How about I show you what I’ve got in mind when we’re back in the studio tomorrow and you can see how you feel then,’ he suggests.

‘But bear in mind that Merle and Emilia will probably repeat their bachata, because that’s what got them their best score, so the audience will probably appreciate it if we do something different. ’

I hadn’t thought of that. ‘Okay,’ I relent. ‘Show me tomorrow. But if I’m still terrible …’

‘You won’t be, I promise.’ He gives my hand a squeeze. ‘I know this is the right move, I’m sure of it.’

We’re interrupted when our phones ping simultaneously.

‘ You’re not going to believe this,’ Sarah has written to us both. ‘ That bloody stewardess didn’t tell anyone to put my camera bag on the plane, so it’s still in bloody France. I’m absolutely fuming. I’m sure she did it deliberately. ’

I exchange a worried look with Aleksis.

‘ They can’t send it over till tomorrow now, then I’ll have to schlep all the way back to Heathrow to pick it up. Like I haven’t got enough to do. I can’t believe she just left it in the corridor. I told you she was a bitch. ’

I grip Aleksis’s hand. ‘It will make it back here, won’t it?’

I think I’d have a nervous breakdown if we had to give up more rehearsal time to squeeze in a trip to Auntie Irene’s now.

‘It’ll be fine,’ he reassures me. ‘They know where it is, so they’ll just send it on the next flight. Which means for the next forty-eight hours we can just rehearse solidly and nothing else.’

‘Nothing at all?’ I ask with a suggestive smile, pushing my doubts about the baggage handlers aside. Well, it can’t be all work and no play.

‘Maybe the odd thing,’ he laughs, and I suddenly wish the taxi would get a move on.