Outing of the Heart (109 page)
Read Outing of the Heart Online
Authors: Lisa Ann Harper
âI have standards which I uphold and live by â¦' she delivered with an air of loathing, â â¦and I'm not about to lower them for some cheap piece of cunt like you.' The words were spat out in reaction to the volcano exploding in her head, as she felt her guts spilling out of her. She saw horror and hurt cover Ten's face, as she shrank within herself and tried to cover her breasts with her scarf. Despite being witness to the wounds she was inflicting, Sid could not stop the vitriolic tirade that was now unleashed. Her eyes blazed into Ten's, as her tongue continued its lashing.
In the agony of betrayal her fist clenched, hitting hard into the palm of her hand, punctuating her words. Perhaps the physical pain of a heavy blow could substitute for what she felt inside. Ten experienced these words like physical blows too, as Sid became even more coarse in her sexual allusions, her rage fouling and debasing everything she had once held dear.
The delivery came more and more to resemble a sadomasochistic encounter, finally leaving Ten shaking in degraded shame; her face white and stricken. At last she released herself from the transfixed state that had immobilized her. With lips trembling uncontrollably; the tears drenching her cheeks, she rushed headlong from the stream of invective surrounding her, into the sanctuary of the bedroom. She flung herself, full-length onto the bed, as great heaving sobs of naked torture racked her body. That Sid could be capable of such vile thoughts. She had never known such toughness; such crudeness. How could those terrible images of sexual lewdness come from the brain of her darling Sidonie? Yes, even after all that wrath, she knew she loved her still. Her diminished pride was now in tatters, yet she would do anything to be once again loved by her.
It was all over. There was no going back. Impossible to return to those halcyon days. Sid had kicked and trampled over her emotions, hacked at her feelings at will, inflicting maximum pain and injury. Remembering those flashing eyes, the varying shades of indigo in the intense irises that made them shine so wonderfully, and the clenched fists, she had feared back there she would strike her, and her legs had trembled. But although the fists had been bunched, there had never been a move made towards her.
âSid, Sid,' she wailed, regret and sorrow mingled in her anguish: âHow have we come to this?' Her voice wavered into a desperate sigh. She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand as, chest heaving, the sobbing gradually subsided.
As Ten had fled from the room, Sid had had to fight a towering urge to chase after her. She was experiencing the heady sensations that come close to a sexual bursting. A white heat seemed to be burning through her body in the urgency of her desire. She was crazy for this woman. She wanted to rush after her. Take her. Dominate her. By the force of her own strength, root out all thoughts of that other woman from her mind. Wanted to crush her in her arms; to press that sensual, vulnerable body against her own throbbing hips. Rip off that tantalizing dress and reveal, in total, what was so teasingly suggested. Instead, lead-footed, she had gone over to where she had dropped her bag, retrieved it and, keys in hand, let herself quietly out the door. There was no need for a slam, her energies were spent; she was utterly drained. Only the throbbing beat of her tumultuous heart remained. Life held no appeal. Everything was in complete ruin. Some happy reunion this had been. The stains from tonight's events would never, could never be washed away. This was the end. She would return to Guelph and throw herself into her studies. She lifted her head; straightened her back. She would finish up the best damned veterinary of her year.
To escape from the torment in her head ⦠and her body, she turned on the radio. She hoped the distraction would also help her stay on the road. She heard Tracey Chapman's voice singing, GIVE ME ONE REASON. Yes, she would turn around too, if she could, but now she had lost everything. It was too late. There was nothing to go back for. She could only go on.
In the agony of betrayal her fist clenched, hitting hard into the palm of her hand, punctuating her words. Perhaps the physical pain of a heavy blow could substitute for what she felt inside. Ten experienced these words like physical blows too, as Sid became even more coarse in her sexual allusions, her rage fouling and debasing everything she had once held dear.
The delivery came more and more to resemble a sadomasochistic encounter, finally leaving Ten shaking in degraded shame; her face white and stricken. At last she released herself from the transfixed state that had immobilized her. With lips trembling uncontrollably; the tears drenching her cheeks, she rushed headlong from the stream of invective surrounding her, into the sanctuary of the bedroom. She flung herself, full-length onto the bed, as great heaving sobs of naked torture racked her body. That Sid could be capable of such vile thoughts. She had never known such toughness; such crudeness. How could those terrible images of sexual lewdness come from the brain of her darling Sidonie? Yes, even after all that wrath, she knew she loved her still. Her diminished pride was now in tatters, yet she would do anything to be once again loved by her.
It was all over. There was no going back. Impossible to return to those halcyon days. Sid had kicked and trampled over her emotions, hacked at her feelings at will, inflicting maximum pain and injury. Remembering those flashing eyes, the varying shades of indigo in the intense irises that made them shine so wonderfully, and the clenched fists, she had feared back there she would strike her, and her legs had trembled. But although the fists had been bunched, there had never been a move made towards her.
âSid, Sid,' she wailed, regret and sorrow mingled in her anguish: âHow have we come to this?' Her voice wavered into a desperate sigh. She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand as, chest heaving, the sobbing gradually subsided.
As Ten had fled from the room, Sid had had to fight a towering urge to chase after her. She was experiencing the heady sensations that come close to a sexual bursting. A white heat seemed to be burning through her body in the urgency of her desire. She was crazy for this woman. She wanted to rush after her. Take her. Dominate her. By the force of her own strength, root out all thoughts of that other woman from her mind. Wanted to crush her in her arms; to press that sensual, vulnerable body against her own throbbing hips. Rip off that tantalizing dress and reveal, in total, what was so teasingly suggested. Instead, lead-footed, she had gone over to where she had dropped her bag, retrieved it and, keys in hand, let herself quietly out the door. There was no need for a slam, her energies were spent; she was utterly drained. Only the throbbing beat of her tumultuous heart remained. Life held no appeal. Everything was in complete ruin. Some happy reunion this had been. The stains from tonight's events would never, could never be washed away. This was the end. She would return to Guelph and throw herself into her studies. She lifted her head; straightened her back. She would finish up the best damned veterinary of her year.
To escape from the torment in her head ⦠and her body, she turned on the radio. She hoped the distraction would also help her stay on the road. She heard Tracey Chapman's voice singing, GIVE ME ONE REASON. Yes, she would turn around too, if she could, but now she had lost everything. It was too late. There was nothing to go back for. She could only go on.
CHAPTER 17
The phone jangled loudly, echoing throughout the apartment and Ten came to with a jolt, her first thought that Sid was calling to say she wanted to make up. Leaping out of bed she ran to the phone, hoping to get there in time.
âHello,' she said, her voice still sleep laden. âSid?'
âHi there. No, it's me Rani. I thought Sid was home weekends.'
âOh, Rani. Hi.' Ten came back to earth with a thud. âNo, she's staying up.' She checked the clock. Had she slept that long?
âI see. Well, I was calling to see if you two would like to go out with us this evening. You remember meeting Fabrice at Ryerson Polytechnic?' Ten could hear the excitement down the line. Rani must have big plans.
âYes.'
âHe and Serge are getting a party together to go visit âBadlands' tonight. Do you know it?'
âNo.'
âIt's a country and western bar. Great atmosphere. Two floors. Upstairs is for dancing. Would you like to join us? We'd collect you at eight and we'll go down in my car.'
âRani, it's real nice you thinking of us, but ⦠I'm staying home today. I kinda want to catch up on things here after my first week back at work.' She knew it sounded lame but, after last night, she couldn't face people.
âOh, too bad.' Rani sounded let down. âWell ⦠if you change your mind, you know where to find us.' She laughed at her joke. âFabrice will be very disappointed, he's been longing for an excuse to have Serge meet you. You really made an impression on that guy.' Rani signed off. âHave a nice day.'
Ten returned to the bedroom and lay down again. It was mid-morning. The day was bright and clear; the forecast had said warm and sunny. She didn't feel warm and sunny. She was cold and desperately unhappy. It was no use lying down any more though. Sleep was impossible and her body too restless. Better start the day somehow. Shower and coffee.
Once clean and dressed, she turned on the radio and prepared a light breakfast. But she couldn't stand the hearty joviality of the Saturday morning host so switched him off. Her thoughts kept returning to the terrible names Sid had called her. How could she think such bad things? She had never given her cause to feel such revulsion or betrayal. She had always been loyal. Just this one thing she had seen and been so ready to accuse her. That was what hurt the most. Her lack of trust. That, and the fact that all this time Sid had known her so little. In her loving her, she had not gotten to understand where she was coming from. Her real self. If she had truly known her, she would never have contemplated that she could behave in the ways she had described; could have done those unspeakable things with other women. Goodness, she'd never even heard of half that stuff. It was a shock to her that Sid herself knew of such things.
“You think you know someone really well, but you don't.”
Ten's mind raced around until she felt she had been tied up in a straight jacket and bound in chains. She was driving herself mad. She had thought Sid was a soft, tender-hearted young girl, but she wasn't. Just the reverse. A street-smart hell-hound in fact; a tempestuous kick-ass. But she had seen the soft side. There had been tender moments. She thought back; sweet, precious times she would treasure all her days. She recalled those looks of love, adoration even. Such a love they had shared.
All day, alone in the apartment, cooped up with these soul-destroying thoughts, finally she could stand it no more. She had to get out; get away from these confining walls and all the memories the apartment held. By now it was early evening. She decided to take Rani up on her offer. A neutral environment; people around who didn't know Sidonie. This could be her salvation. Before last night she would have turned to Devon. Now that avenue was closed. It seemed her whole world, once so safe and secure, was now falling about her ears. Nothing was the same as it had been.
âRani?' Ten spoke into the phone.
âHello, Moira here.' Ten was a little off-guard, now she'd look like she was inviting herself.
âHi Moira. Rani called me this morning â¦'
âYes, my dear,' Moira interrupted. âHave you changed your mind? Will you join us? It should be a real fun night. Fabrice and Serge are great guys. You'll like Don and Steve too. A fun-loving bunch all.'
Moira's enthusiasm completely disarmed her. This was the perfect antidote she needed. âThanks Moira. Yes, I would like to join you. It's pretty lonely up here. The thought of a whole evening by myself was getting too much for me.'
âNot a problem, Tenille. We're aiming to leave by eight. Would you like to join us for a drink first?'
âThat would be very nice. Moira, what's the dress for tonight?'
âListen, that's more Rani's department. Hold on, I'll get her.' There was a bit of a clatter as Moira clumsily put down the receiver. Soon Rani's melodious voice floated down the line.
âHi Tenille. Glad you changed your mind. You shouldn't be alone on a Saturday night. Party time, right?'
âOn Rani, you do my heart good.'
âDress. Well, you've got jeans?'
âYes.'
âBuckles and boots?'
âHold on. Buckles and boots?'
âTo dress country, you need tight fitting jeans; western boots, you know pointed toes, Cuban heels. Check shirts are out, but if you haven't got the new look shirt, a T-shirt is okay. You top it off with a hat.' Rani paused briefly then added: âOh and the buckle is big and fancy for your belt.'
Ten was dismayed. She had none of this gear. Just like the princess she wailed: âI can't go, I've got nothing to wear.'
âRelax girl. Come down and let's go through my stuff and see what we can find. Cool?'
In fact, Ten was there for quite some time trying on and during the process, her interaction with the landladies did much to restore her self-esteem. They heaped lots of praise upon her, admiring both her figure, as she tried on the various combinations and her looks, as she tried on the hats. Finally, they came to a consensus as to what suited her best and settled on a black T-shirt, sporting the Badlands logo. Rani had bought it at a fund-raiser for their last Hoedown. This would ensure she felt comfortable in the crowd and would be at ease. She borrowed a plain black hat.
âJust wear your hair loose,' Rani advised. âThis looks great.'
They all stood around admiring the effect in the mirror. She would have to wear her own shoes, a pair of black, low-heeled, plain lace-ups. Rani had a magnificent, tooled, silver belt buckle, but Ten just couldn't bring herself to go that far.
âRani, I won't even be dancing. If you get me looking too much the part, everyone will expect me to get up and do something.'
âWhat do you mean, “won't be dancing”? Of course you will.' Moira looked stern, but Ten knew it was only her way.
âIt will be a long time before this ankle of mine lets me dance, I'm afraid.' She looked down ruefully at her left foot.
âYou can walk, can't you?' Moira's tone was abrupt as she looked up from the extremity in question to Ten's resigned face. Her expression quickly changed to one of surprise at these words.
âWell ⦠yes.' She was hesitant nonetheless.
âWhat Moira means Tenille, is that country line dancing is very easy,' Rani clarified. âPeople with two left feet do it. People who've never danced before, do it and â¦'
âAnd â¦' Moira interrupted, a grin spreading across her face, â â¦she's not talking about the birds and the bees.'
âDarling, don't be silly and let me finish.' Rani looked at Ten and shook her head. âReally. Sometimes I wonder about this woman.' She gave Moira a big hug. Ten watching, felt her heart clutch painfully. There was a helpless ache burning inside her. She had to turn her head away, not to let them see the distress behind her eyes.
âWhat I was saying, before I was steam-rolled was â¦' Rani threw Moira a compelling look, â â¦with your dancing ability you'll pick it up in no time.' Ten's expression, previously encouraged, now looked unconvinced.
âTrust me,' were her final words on the matter.
She didn't argue, but knew she wouldn't dance. This was to be a diversion only; something to help her out of this morose swamp of dejection. Apart from which, she really didn't have that much confidence in her foot. Yes, it was down to the ground, but it wasn't that strong yet. She went back upstairs to shower and change, but didn't return for the drink. So much time had passed, she would be pushing it to be ready by eight o'clock. Her make-up had taken a lot of work. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, but by the time she had finished, the ghostly pallor had gone and with her extra care, people could have been forgiven for thinking her to be a model.
When the friends walked into the bar, shortly before half past eight, there was only a handful of people. They found a table at the side of the dance floor, not far from the pool table, but giving a good view of the DJ's box, and ordered drinks.
âI didn't expect it to be so quiet.' Ten was remembering back to her night at âTrax'. That place had been jumping. To be fair, it had been later in the evening.
âJust you wait,' Moira advised: âThis place gets so packed, they have to call the dances in two shifts.'
âTrue.' she found it hard to believe. Looking about, there were mostly men present, sporting their western gear. Now she was glad of Rani's help. She didn't look out of place.
A steady stream of arrivals was contributing to an atmosphere of anticipation. The lighting was dimmer now, with strategic spots and overhead glitter balls giving an air of mystery and interesting shadows.
âWe come early,' Rani explained, âbecause on a Saturday, for the first hour, they review the dances that will be featured later. We haven't been for a while so it's a good brush up for us and you â¦' she turned and faced Ten directly, â â¦you get to go through some of them slowly.'
âMe.' Ten expostulated. âOh no you don't.'
âCome on Ten. Don't close your mind.' This was Moira being firm. âYou know the saying: âTry it, you'll like it'? Well, that applies here.' At this juncture the music died and their instructor for the evening took the mike and welcomed them to Badlands' Country Western Bar. Tall and slim, looking every inch the cowboy, from his Stetson to his snakeskin boots, he spoke through a clip-on mike and belt pack, allowing him freedom of movement. Everyone dutifully moved to the floor and began to form lines, facing front. He turned his back and started going through the first dance sequence.
âOkay guys, let's go.' Rani announced as she got up.
âNo you two go,' Ten insisted. âLet me watch.'
Moira looked as though she were going to object.
âReally.' Ten proclaimed. âI'm perfectly happy to look on. Remember, I've not seen this before.'
âLet her be, Moira. Ten's got a point there,' Rani reproved. She rose and the two joined the others on the floor. They looked good in their jeans and wearing the latest in two tone, cut-out shirts: Rani's maroon: Moira's blue. To think she'd not even known they were line dancers.
She watched closely. The steps certainly were not hard and the sequence looked pretty basic. Now they were ready to put the dance to music. It was called Round Up'. The music was k.d. lang singing, WALTZ ME ONCE AGAIN ROUND THE DANCE FLOOR. When she saw how it went to the music she was hooked, tapping her foot in time to the beat. Moira was right, she could do it. However, she didn't leap up to join in, just happy to watch and nurse her beer. Nothing strong tonight, last night was enough to do her for weeks.
The next dance the instructor, who had informed them he was Brett Thompson, took them through, was âHonky Tonk Walkin'. This was danced to the Kentucky Headhunters singing a song of the same name.
Although beginning to relax for the first time since that dreadful encounter, the bad memories still continued to slither unconstrained into her head. Try as she would to put the thoughts aside, they could still leave her feeling weak and vulnerable. She had been brutalized by those hideous words and the hurt, cutting so deep, had totally diminished her. An inner voice was telling her the only way out was to forget Sid; to anaesthetize her emotions. But she was finding it impossible to face the fact that indeed, this was the end. Her mind was so tired, her nerves stretched too taut.
Watching how everyone moved together on the floor, yet were still separate, had a hypnotic effect. No wonder people got off on it so much. Arriving alone, very quickly they were part of a happening.
Suddenly, she was jolted out of her reflective mood. A knot of women had walked in. They were standing indecisively at the doorway. One of them especially, was surveying the room closely, perhaps searching for someone. Ten went rigid. For that split second, she thought it was Sidonie. Her eyelids flew up as her heart leaped in painful excitement. The shock to her system took her breath away. However, the moment was quickly over as the young woman turned her head and Ten could see her for what she was ⦠just another medium build, fair haired butch. All the same, her heart continued to thud heavily within her chest, resonating to the substance of her mistake and the violence of the reaction. On her friends' return they couldn't help noticing a change in her.
âAre you okay, Tenille?' Moira asked. âYou look as if you've seen a ghost.' They resumed their seats and drank gratefully from their glasses. Line dancing was a good form of exercise and it didn't take long to work up a powerful thirst.
âYes fine, thanks.' She tried to think calmly. To take their attention off her she began asking more questions about the dance. Still her eyes followed the women round the room and when they came up close she could see the girl in question looked nothing like Sid. She wondered how she was spending her Saturday evening. No. She had to get her mind off that track.
The phone jangled loudly, echoing throughout the apartment and Ten came to with a jolt, her first thought that Sid was calling to say she wanted to make up. Leaping out of bed she ran to the phone, hoping to get there in time.
âHello,' she said, her voice still sleep laden. âSid?'
âHi there. No, it's me Rani. I thought Sid was home weekends.'
âOh, Rani. Hi.' Ten came back to earth with a thud. âNo, she's staying up.' She checked the clock. Had she slept that long?
âI see. Well, I was calling to see if you two would like to go out with us this evening. You remember meeting Fabrice at Ryerson Polytechnic?' Ten could hear the excitement down the line. Rani must have big plans.
âYes.'
âHe and Serge are getting a party together to go visit âBadlands' tonight. Do you know it?'
âNo.'
âIt's a country and western bar. Great atmosphere. Two floors. Upstairs is for dancing. Would you like to join us? We'd collect you at eight and we'll go down in my car.'
âRani, it's real nice you thinking of us, but ⦠I'm staying home today. I kinda want to catch up on things here after my first week back at work.' She knew it sounded lame but, after last night, she couldn't face people.
âOh, too bad.' Rani sounded let down. âWell ⦠if you change your mind, you know where to find us.' She laughed at her joke. âFabrice will be very disappointed, he's been longing for an excuse to have Serge meet you. You really made an impression on that guy.' Rani signed off. âHave a nice day.'
Ten returned to the bedroom and lay down again. It was mid-morning. The day was bright and clear; the forecast had said warm and sunny. She didn't feel warm and sunny. She was cold and desperately unhappy. It was no use lying down any more though. Sleep was impossible and her body too restless. Better start the day somehow. Shower and coffee.
Once clean and dressed, she turned on the radio and prepared a light breakfast. But she couldn't stand the hearty joviality of the Saturday morning host so switched him off. Her thoughts kept returning to the terrible names Sid had called her. How could she think such bad things? She had never given her cause to feel such revulsion or betrayal. She had always been loyal. Just this one thing she had seen and been so ready to accuse her. That was what hurt the most. Her lack of trust. That, and the fact that all this time Sid had known her so little. In her loving her, she had not gotten to understand where she was coming from. Her real self. If she had truly known her, she would never have contemplated that she could behave in the ways she had described; could have done those unspeakable things with other women. Goodness, she'd never even heard of half that stuff. It was a shock to her that Sid herself knew of such things.
“You think you know someone really well, but you don't.”
Ten's mind raced around until she felt she had been tied up in a straight jacket and bound in chains. She was driving herself mad. She had thought Sid was a soft, tender-hearted young girl, but she wasn't. Just the reverse. A street-smart hell-hound in fact; a tempestuous kick-ass. But she had seen the soft side. There had been tender moments. She thought back; sweet, precious times she would treasure all her days. She recalled those looks of love, adoration even. Such a love they had shared.
All day, alone in the apartment, cooped up with these soul-destroying thoughts, finally she could stand it no more. She had to get out; get away from these confining walls and all the memories the apartment held. By now it was early evening. She decided to take Rani up on her offer. A neutral environment; people around who didn't know Sidonie. This could be her salvation. Before last night she would have turned to Devon. Now that avenue was closed. It seemed her whole world, once so safe and secure, was now falling about her ears. Nothing was the same as it had been.
âRani?' Ten spoke into the phone.
âHello, Moira here.' Ten was a little off-guard, now she'd look like she was inviting herself.
âHi Moira. Rani called me this morning â¦'
âYes, my dear,' Moira interrupted. âHave you changed your mind? Will you join us? It should be a real fun night. Fabrice and Serge are great guys. You'll like Don and Steve too. A fun-loving bunch all.'
Moira's enthusiasm completely disarmed her. This was the perfect antidote she needed. âThanks Moira. Yes, I would like to join you. It's pretty lonely up here. The thought of a whole evening by myself was getting too much for me.'
âNot a problem, Tenille. We're aiming to leave by eight. Would you like to join us for a drink first?'
âThat would be very nice. Moira, what's the dress for tonight?'
âListen, that's more Rani's department. Hold on, I'll get her.' There was a bit of a clatter as Moira clumsily put down the receiver. Soon Rani's melodious voice floated down the line.
âHi Tenille. Glad you changed your mind. You shouldn't be alone on a Saturday night. Party time, right?'
âOn Rani, you do my heart good.'
âDress. Well, you've got jeans?'
âYes.'
âBuckles and boots?'
âHold on. Buckles and boots?'
âTo dress country, you need tight fitting jeans; western boots, you know pointed toes, Cuban heels. Check shirts are out, but if you haven't got the new look shirt, a T-shirt is okay. You top it off with a hat.' Rani paused briefly then added: âOh and the buckle is big and fancy for your belt.'
Ten was dismayed. She had none of this gear. Just like the princess she wailed: âI can't go, I've got nothing to wear.'
âRelax girl. Come down and let's go through my stuff and see what we can find. Cool?'
In fact, Ten was there for quite some time trying on and during the process, her interaction with the landladies did much to restore her self-esteem. They heaped lots of praise upon her, admiring both her figure, as she tried on the various combinations and her looks, as she tried on the hats. Finally, they came to a consensus as to what suited her best and settled on a black T-shirt, sporting the Badlands logo. Rani had bought it at a fund-raiser for their last Hoedown. This would ensure she felt comfortable in the crowd and would be at ease. She borrowed a plain black hat.
âJust wear your hair loose,' Rani advised. âThis looks great.'
They all stood around admiring the effect in the mirror. She would have to wear her own shoes, a pair of black, low-heeled, plain lace-ups. Rani had a magnificent, tooled, silver belt buckle, but Ten just couldn't bring herself to go that far.
âRani, I won't even be dancing. If you get me looking too much the part, everyone will expect me to get up and do something.'
âWhat do you mean, “won't be dancing”? Of course you will.' Moira looked stern, but Ten knew it was only her way.
âIt will be a long time before this ankle of mine lets me dance, I'm afraid.' She looked down ruefully at her left foot.
âYou can walk, can't you?' Moira's tone was abrupt as she looked up from the extremity in question to Ten's resigned face. Her expression quickly changed to one of surprise at these words.
âWell ⦠yes.' She was hesitant nonetheless.
âWhat Moira means Tenille, is that country line dancing is very easy,' Rani clarified. âPeople with two left feet do it. People who've never danced before, do it and â¦'
âAnd â¦' Moira interrupted, a grin spreading across her face, â â¦she's not talking about the birds and the bees.'
âDarling, don't be silly and let me finish.' Rani looked at Ten and shook her head. âReally. Sometimes I wonder about this woman.' She gave Moira a big hug. Ten watching, felt her heart clutch painfully. There was a helpless ache burning inside her. She had to turn her head away, not to let them see the distress behind her eyes.
âWhat I was saying, before I was steam-rolled was â¦' Rani threw Moira a compelling look, â â¦with your dancing ability you'll pick it up in no time.' Ten's expression, previously encouraged, now looked unconvinced.
âTrust me,' were her final words on the matter.
She didn't argue, but knew she wouldn't dance. This was to be a diversion only; something to help her out of this morose swamp of dejection. Apart from which, she really didn't have that much confidence in her foot. Yes, it was down to the ground, but it wasn't that strong yet. She went back upstairs to shower and change, but didn't return for the drink. So much time had passed, she would be pushing it to be ready by eight o'clock. Her make-up had taken a lot of work. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, but by the time she had finished, the ghostly pallor had gone and with her extra care, people could have been forgiven for thinking her to be a model.
When the friends walked into the bar, shortly before half past eight, there was only a handful of people. They found a table at the side of the dance floor, not far from the pool table, but giving a good view of the DJ's box, and ordered drinks.
âI didn't expect it to be so quiet.' Ten was remembering back to her night at âTrax'. That place had been jumping. To be fair, it had been later in the evening.
âJust you wait,' Moira advised: âThis place gets so packed, they have to call the dances in two shifts.'
âTrue.' she found it hard to believe. Looking about, there were mostly men present, sporting their western gear. Now she was glad of Rani's help. She didn't look out of place.
A steady stream of arrivals was contributing to an atmosphere of anticipation. The lighting was dimmer now, with strategic spots and overhead glitter balls giving an air of mystery and interesting shadows.
âWe come early,' Rani explained, âbecause on a Saturday, for the first hour, they review the dances that will be featured later. We haven't been for a while so it's a good brush up for us and you â¦' she turned and faced Ten directly, â â¦you get to go through some of them slowly.'
âMe.' Ten expostulated. âOh no you don't.'
âCome on Ten. Don't close your mind.' This was Moira being firm. âYou know the saying: âTry it, you'll like it'? Well, that applies here.' At this juncture the music died and their instructor for the evening took the mike and welcomed them to Badlands' Country Western Bar. Tall and slim, looking every inch the cowboy, from his Stetson to his snakeskin boots, he spoke through a clip-on mike and belt pack, allowing him freedom of movement. Everyone dutifully moved to the floor and began to form lines, facing front. He turned his back and started going through the first dance sequence.
âOkay guys, let's go.' Rani announced as she got up.
âNo you two go,' Ten insisted. âLet me watch.'
Moira looked as though she were going to object.
âReally.' Ten proclaimed. âI'm perfectly happy to look on. Remember, I've not seen this before.'
âLet her be, Moira. Ten's got a point there,' Rani reproved. She rose and the two joined the others on the floor. They looked good in their jeans and wearing the latest in two tone, cut-out shirts: Rani's maroon: Moira's blue. To think she'd not even known they were line dancers.
She watched closely. The steps certainly were not hard and the sequence looked pretty basic. Now they were ready to put the dance to music. It was called Round Up'. The music was k.d. lang singing, WALTZ ME ONCE AGAIN ROUND THE DANCE FLOOR. When she saw how it went to the music she was hooked, tapping her foot in time to the beat. Moira was right, she could do it. However, she didn't leap up to join in, just happy to watch and nurse her beer. Nothing strong tonight, last night was enough to do her for weeks.
The next dance the instructor, who had informed them he was Brett Thompson, took them through, was âHonky Tonk Walkin'. This was danced to the Kentucky Headhunters singing a song of the same name.
Although beginning to relax for the first time since that dreadful encounter, the bad memories still continued to slither unconstrained into her head. Try as she would to put the thoughts aside, they could still leave her feeling weak and vulnerable. She had been brutalized by those hideous words and the hurt, cutting so deep, had totally diminished her. An inner voice was telling her the only way out was to forget Sid; to anaesthetize her emotions. But she was finding it impossible to face the fact that indeed, this was the end. Her mind was so tired, her nerves stretched too taut.
Watching how everyone moved together on the floor, yet were still separate, had a hypnotic effect. No wonder people got off on it so much. Arriving alone, very quickly they were part of a happening.
Suddenly, she was jolted out of her reflective mood. A knot of women had walked in. They were standing indecisively at the doorway. One of them especially, was surveying the room closely, perhaps searching for someone. Ten went rigid. For that split second, she thought it was Sidonie. Her eyelids flew up as her heart leaped in painful excitement. The shock to her system took her breath away. However, the moment was quickly over as the young woman turned her head and Ten could see her for what she was ⦠just another medium build, fair haired butch. All the same, her heart continued to thud heavily within her chest, resonating to the substance of her mistake and the violence of the reaction. On her friends' return they couldn't help noticing a change in her.
âAre you okay, Tenille?' Moira asked. âYou look as if you've seen a ghost.' They resumed their seats and drank gratefully from their glasses. Line dancing was a good form of exercise and it didn't take long to work up a powerful thirst.
âYes fine, thanks.' She tried to think calmly. To take their attention off her she began asking more questions about the dance. Still her eyes followed the women round the room and when they came up close she could see the girl in question looked nothing like Sid. She wondered how she was spending her Saturday evening. No. She had to get her mind off that track.
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