The Rumba. Georgia HillЧитать онлайн книгу.
was so busy being relieved that she missed the next few announcements.
“And finally, as I’m sure you’ll have worked out by now, the last two celebrities not allocated partners are Julia and Harri.” Bob beamed at them. “So they will be dancing together. That’s all. Have a wonderful evening. Any questions address them to Maria, my assistant. And, don’t forget – who dares dances!” With this, Bob hurried from the studio.
Coward, thought Julia. Drop the bombshell and run off. She turned to look at Harri. “Well, not too bad for us I suppose?” She looked questioningly up at him.
“I think we’ll work together alright won’t we? But whether we’ll be able to dance mind, that’s another story.” He winked, his humour obviously restored.
To Julia’s pleasure, he sounded relieved. She could do a lot worse than spend time with this man she thought.
“Like some food?” he asked her cheerfully. “I’m going to get some, I’m starving, been filming all day, see.”
She nodded and watched him as he made his way over to the table where a buffet was being laid. He had a good pair of shoulders and a neat set of hips. And his bottom was, well quite frankly, it was gorgeous. Yes, she could do a lot worse.
Step Two.
They were all back in the studio the following day. It was show day and last minute dress rehearsals had begun at nine, except for Lavinia who showed up two hours later much to the annoyance of Warren. Julia had left the party early with Harri; they’d shared a cab home, as he lived not far from her in north London. They agreed they’d both had a long day and wanted to call it a night.
And now, thought Julia, it all starts in earnest. She looked around the studio – the same room that they had partied in last night. All remnants of the party had disappeared and there was workmanlike mood this morning. It reminded her of her days in the theatre, of dress rehearsals, of the buzzy adrenalin-filled quality of the atmosphere.
She was nervous but excited. She and Jan were going to dance a waltz and she was pleased it was a reasonably simple routine. She’d found it hard to memorise the steps and was completely reliant on Jan leading her round. He did so with barely concealed Russian impatience, swearing quietly whenever she did something wrong - which was often. He scared her a little. She worked best with encouragement and praise and his arrogant bullying wasn’t making for an ideal partnership.
She watched enviously as Daniel and Casey cruised round the floor in an American smooth. Daniel Cunningham was as tall and as good lookingly blonde as Jan but was much kinder and encouraging and, as a result, Casey was already dancing with impressive skill.
“They’re good aren’t they?” a Welsh voice whispered in her ear.
She turned and smiled at Harri. “They are. Do you think they’ll win?”
He shrugged. “They might. But my money’s on Scott and Suni.” He nodded to where the couple were trying out some of the moves to their quickstep. “Scott’s determined to win, He’s incredibly competitive and Suni is ….” he trailed off as he looked at them.
“So graceful,” she finished for him. “Yes, she is isn’t she?” Julia blew out a breath.
“Something wrong?”
“Just wondering what I’m doing here, that’s all. I’ve discovered I’ve got two left feet.”
Harri grinned. “Not from where I was watching. You and Jan look great together.”
“Only because he’s lugging me round. Still at least the long dress will cover any wrong steps! It’s got so many feathers sewn onto it you can’t actually see me.”
“Wish I had the same sort of costume,” Harri laughed. “Poor Eva’s given up on me ever being able to move my hips.”
“You’ve got a hard dance to start with, haven’t you? I wouldn’t fancy doing the salsa so early on in the competition.” Julia made a sympathetic face.
“Yup, Eva’s one hell of a taskmaster. Bullied me into submission so I agreed to do it. But if I go wrong I can at least make a bit up, it’s not as technical as their dance.” He gestured again to Suni and Scott.
“Agreed. Jan’s the same, a terrific bully.” She sighed.
“I suppose that’s what it takes to get to the top of their field. Total dedication and one hundred percent competitiveness.” Harri regarded her thoughtfully.
“Yes, but he could be nicer about it … oh hello Jan!” she said brightly as the man in question came up to them.
“No time,” he wagged a finger at them, “no time for gossip. We work. Now!” He snatched at Julia’s hand and marched her to the dance floor.
Harri watched her go and raised a hand as she pulled a silly face back at him. He liked her. He’d seen her on stage last year and had liked her ever since.
She’d been brilliant. It was the first night of a Noel Coward play and she was brittle and arch and poignant, all the things that Coward demanded. He was relieved when he met her briefly at the after show party that she was none of those things in real life. She was actually funny and self deprecating and quite shy.
They’d chatted and then he was dragged off to another party. He left reluctantly; he’d enjoyed talking to her.
Now, as he watched her being swung smoothly round the dance floor by her Russian giant of a partner, he decided he really liked her. He had little time for a personal life and the producers of Red Pepper were always on the lookout for scandal so he had to be extremely circumspect. That’s why he backed off whenever Casey came near, gorgeous though she was, her body clearly displayed in clothes that were too tight or slipped off revealing lots of naked flesh. He knew women like Casey were big trouble. One night and she’d be rushing to the papers with the story. His career wouldn’t withstand that, Fizz TV had made it more than clear that if there were any sex or drugs stories, he’d be out. One glance at Casey and all those things were on the cards. But Julia, now she was a different woman. She was easy to get along with. Attractive too, with her mane of black hair and those flashing green eyes. He felt himself stirring. God, he really liked her. The irritating ‘no relationships’ clause niggled at the back of his mind. It was too frustrating. He’d have to be careful. No rushing into anything.
“Larry!” It was Eva, her Swedish accent could never quite master his Welsh name.
“It’s Harri,” he muttered under his breath and then pinned a cheery smile on his face as he turned to his professional dance partner. His coach. His nemesis.
“We will work now, I think. Come. And Larry, hold me like a man this time please.”
Harri gritted his teeth and got into position. With any luck, he’d be so dire they’d be voted off in the first show. Then he wouldn’t have to put up with this termagant any longer. But he didn’t really mean it; already the old competitiveness, a relic from his college rugby playing days, had taken hold. He was in it to win it, he decided as he was steered round the floor by the determined arms of his partner.
“No Larry, take the lead! Hold me like you mean it!”
***
Before she knew it, Julia had completed her waltz to subdued applause from the audience and was standing in front of the judges, waiting for their comments. Her heart sank; she could see from Jan’s rigid shoulders that he wasn’t pleased with her performance.
Arthur, the senior judge, was first to comment. He had a reputation for being straight-talking but kind. “Well you had a good attempt, you sell the dance well but you were letting Jan do all the hard work. You need to something about raising your ribcage and your neckline is dreadful. Not a bad effort, work on those things and you’ll get better.”
Not that