(Continued from Two To Tango)
‘Who is it you like?’ Beatrice says.
The dancing is over. We’re chatting in the corner. Well, I’m ranting, she’s listening.
‘It’s frustrating,’ I say. ‘One kind of dance I’ve never done and, I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help feeling, if I’d been better at it – .’
Milonga approaching; I break off.
‘Hi,’ he says. ‘Are you coming to the after party?’
‘Err maybe.’ I glance at Beatrice, trying to communicate with a look that this is Milonga, then back at him. ‘Are you guys going?’
‘Yes – well – I am, and I think some of the others are.’
‘I’ll probably go along,’ I say.
Beatrice looks surprised. I’ve never been to an after party.
(TO BE CONTINUED)