Waltz, Tango, Foxtrot

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


Kenneth and Rosalind are a Ballroom Dance dream team and they've just won the Golden Slipper for their Foxtrot. But the couple both harbour a dangerous secret, one so scandalous that it could cost
them their reputation and their freedom.

Submitted: October 04, 2017

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Submitted: October 04, 2017

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“I'm going to kiss you now if that's alright?” Kenneth gave a nervous smile while he awaited Rosalind's answer. She quickly glanced over to the table in the corner and gave the girl that sat there a nervous smile. She turned back to face her dance partner.

“We just won the Golden Slipper with our Foxtrot, Ken. I think a kiss would be-” Kenneth interrupted her as he planted his lips firmly on hers, he lingered long enough for her to relax into it. The public address system abruptly gave a high pitched screech and the entire room recoiled.

“Ladies and Gentleman. The Tower Ballroom would like to present to you, the winners of the Golden Slipper this evening, Kenneth Porter and Rosalind Waverley”, the crowd broke into a round of applause. “And what a delightful couple they make”, the MC gave a wink.

 

Kenneth held his partner firmly through the rise and fall of their showcase dance, Rosalind glowed with a relaxed smile now the judging was over. She almost took a misstep on the first turn of a weave but managed to recover it without the audience noticing. They moved as one, a testament to both their practice and their trust in each other.

 

They took their final bow amongst the applause and headed for the corner table. Rosalind's friend sat, Martini in hand, with her “date”, Simon. He rose and gave Kenneth a fleeting hug, before turning to Rosalind and planting a light kiss on her cheek. Simon turned his attention back to Kenneth.

“You're one hell of a hoofer and no flies! It's bona to vada your dolly eek out there.” “And your riah, Ros. Fantabulosa!” Kenneth stiffened.

Don't talk like that here, Simon! Someone might hear”, Kenneth hissed. “Why can't you just say that you think I'm a great dancer.” Simon rolled his eyes at him and tutted under his breath.

“Seriously, half the dancers here speak the language darling. Number 12 is one of my favourite dilly boys”, he fired back. Rosalind placed a gentle hand on Simon's arm.

“Let's not start a fight today, please. Simon, now isn't the time to be boasting about your conquests. When you pay them, it doesn't matter whether your dolly or meese”. She took the Martini from Gillian's hand and took a large gulp. “Thanks about the hair though.” They all fell about laughing.

 

Gillian took a sip for herself and then placed the glass down, carefully. “Strictly speaking, the point is we can say what we feel, without attracting attention”, she twirled her olive around in the glass. “I mean, if you fancy a night in the cells, there's more than one orderly's daughter in here.” Simon pulled his chair out in a flash and made his excuses. Rosalind turned to Kenneth and gave him a conciliatory frown.

“Looks like number 12 really is his favourite, Ken. I suppose it's sweet that he'd look out for him. He's just mad at you for the kiss, that's all.” Kenneth shrugged.

“He said my face was pretty, that's high praise from Simon. As for number 12, Simon's just a bit of fun, I'm not looking to settle down like you two. Not yet.” Gillian paused before biting the olive off its plastic skewer.

“About the kiss... I understand you know. Ros and I, well no-one gives a second thought about two young girls rooming together do they?” Kenneth nodded in agreement and she gave him a light touch on his hand. “Ros loves me, I know that in my bones, she gave up everything to so we could share our life together. I know who I'm going home with tonight.” She turned to Ros and grinned, then gave Kenneth a couple more pats on the hand. “Now does Simon?”


© Copyright 2018 India Emerald. All rights reserved.

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