Page 31 of The Love of Our Lives

I wish I could have driven us, of course – Charlie and I have been out for a few more intensive driving sessions this week, each time becoming easier than the last – but I still need to actually pass the exam.

I’ve booked it in right after the theory test though, for two weeks’ time at the start of February.

Even Charlie’s eyes went wide when I told her and she suggested maybe I spread it across a couple of months at least. But I don’t have a couple of months to waste.

I’ve only got six months left in this life and with Charlie’s intensive training, I’m confident that I should be able to pass it.

I will pass it – for Emily.

What came next?

Dancing was next on the list – it was a given from all the little dancing figures around the place and the fact she’d clearly gone to check out Charlie’s class almost immediately.

And, God, did I feel nervous when I looked on the website and realised what an idiot I’d look like when I went.

But so what? If this is what she wanted to do.

Though I couldn’t help wishing Adam could have come with us too.

I’d have loved dancing with him.

‘Where is Emily Perin and what have you done with her?’ Fran had laughed down the phone when I told her but she sounded happy for me all the same.

Eventually the bus pulls up at the stop Charlie told us to get off at in Stockbridge, and, tapping William lightly on the arm, we slowly make our way down the bus to the front.

Though I offer out my hand to him, he tells me that he’s able to get off the bus perfectly well alone, ‘thank you all the same’.

A second later, he shuffles to the edge of the step and down on to the pavement beside me.

I can’t help smiling as he offers his arm to me – perhaps stubbornness can work in good ways too.

‘So, tell me why you’re here, and not with Adam then?’ he says as we walk away to the lit-up building together. ‘What happened between you two lovebirds?

I pause, surprised by the abrupt question after the silence. But it is William, after all.

‘I’m just . . . not sure I’m the right person for him is all,’ I say eventually.

‘Oh tosh,’ he says, ‘who is ever right for anyone? When I met my Connie, I had no money and her parents thought I wasn’t good enough for her but I didn’t care. Because I loved her with my whole heart, and there’s no greater gift, you know. Do you love him?’

My heart beats faster. ‘It’s just not as simple as that.’

‘I think you’ll find it actually is. When I met my Connie, I just knew,’ he says, and stares up at the sky above. ‘Three months, that’s all it took before I proposed. And we had the most wonderful, imperfect life together, before she left.’

I pause, thinking about those pictures of her pregnant on the mantelpiece, William’s harsh words about Charlie’s plans at Christmas.

There’s not one photo of her older than the pregnancy.

‘Was it childbirth?’ I say softly.

His silence tells me that I’m right.

‘Our twin boys inside her too,’ he says, without looking at me. ‘And in that moment, my whole world collapsed. I stopped speaking to everyone, even my brother and his children, because I couldn’t face it.’

As we walk along the cobbles in silence, I try to digest what he’s said – that the most awful of things happened to him. He took a chance on love and it ended in devastation. The world is filled with so many awful outcomes, so many ways of getting hurt, that it makes me scared to breathe sometimes.

How are you supposed to take any risks at all?

‘It just didn’t seem right though,’ he says, and I turn to look at him sharply.

‘What didn’t?’

‘Saying no to these dance classes. Because Connie adored dancing and I think she would have loved this.’

A beat. He pats my arm.

‘I think she would have loved you.’

I’m trying to form a response when I realise we’ve arrived at the dance centre. A man in glasses walks past, opens the door.

‘You guys coming in?’ He smiles, holding it open.

I look at William, and he gestures for me to go in first.

Walking into the warm, whitewashed hall, we’re immediately surrounded by a bustle of people talking and laughing – all different ages, men and woman.

Pin boards hang around the place with flyers about yoga, toddler groups and dance classes.

Tables are pushed across to the side for other activities, and there is such a buzz of life here – such a feeling of community too.

A second later, a flash of red polka dot comes rushing through the crowd towards me.

‘You made it,’ Charlie gushes, hugs me tight. ‘And you too, William,’ she says, turning her thickly lashed eyes on him. ‘This is amazing.’

‘Thank you for having us,’ he says, ‘but I will tell you now, I am no beginner.’

‘Oh, I didn’t think that for a moment,’ Charlie says quickly, ‘but it’s often good to go through the motions for a warm-up, don’t you think?’

He seems to consider it. ‘I suppose so. My wife Connie and I used to dance, you see. That was our thing , as you people say these days.’

Charlie beams. ‘And what a great thing to have had.’

‘Well, yes,’ he says, and Charlie ushers us towards the middle of the honey-oak floor.

Stepping back to her place at the front, Charlie starts up a little swing music, which warbles from the speakers, and everyone almost magically starts to fall into lines across the hall.

William and I take a spot in the middle, even though I actually want to go right at the back.

A minute later, Charlie takes the class through some warm-up exercises, then a few little dance steps, which are easy enough to follow.

My limbs start to loosen, my heart rate starts to climb.

That vision of Cat’s red hair, flying around as she loses herself in the music.

For a brief moment, I want to slow right down; stop like I did that time in the speakeasy. But then something new happens – I look down at these healthy limbs, feel this heart beating inside my chest, and suddenly it dawns on me, that instead of stopping for someone, I need to act for them instead.

Just like Cat always did for me.