Outing of the Heart (60 page)
Read Outing of the Heart Online
Authors: Lisa Ann Harper
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
There was to be one more meeting with Raoul at the rehearsal rooms and he would be handing out tickets. Tenille and Devon would not be going to Belen's, but that had all been squared away with her and she had wished them well. Just the participants on the tour would be there, with Amaia, looking only slightly pregnant at this stage. This was to be their last run through before leaving; a final look at the costumes and all the bits and pieces. Tenille's new dress was absolutely gorgeous and she looked stunning. With the different color accents, she could dress it up or down; be sophisticated or cheeky.
Devon arrived soon after Tenille and was shocked by what she saw. Dark circles under her eyes, a look of strain about them. With her mouth in a tight line, all in all, she did not appear herself.
âGood God Ten, what's happened to you?' was her abrupt greeting. âYou're not changing your mind are you?' she enquired more solicitously.
âNo. Silly.' Was she too quick in her denial? Devon didn't notice.
âGood.' She asked no more, but it left Tenille believing she really must look awful. Maybe she was run down with all the stress of recent weeks.
âListen, mother's driving me to the airport. I thought we could stop by your place and pick you up. I know the bus service from The Royal York is good, but I thought it would be more fun if we went together. Don't you think?' she encouraged her.
âYes, thanks Dev. I'd like that,' with so much luggage, this was great. She had had to borrow a suitcase from Mrs. Sandrelli as it was. The prospect cheered her and left her feeling brighter. It would be all right.
Raoul was very
hyped
, now they were so close to the end. He watched critically and even Manuel was not exempt, although ostensibly under Stavros' direction. Eventually he was satisfied, but he wanted one more time on Soleares. He felt Tenille was too static; needed to express more personal feeling. Her steps were correct, but they had lacked the Latin fire.
âWe try again,' he commanded her. âDance with me as if I am the only man in your life.' His eyes bored into her.
âNow â¦' The music played and they became swept up in its rhythm and passion. This time she allowed it to flow into her and fill her being, putting her all into the sensuous tempi. She whirled and stomped, her body undulating in sinuous and erotic motion. She felt the power of the music and the power of her womanliness. The fire, and her rapture for Spanish music consumed her. She and Raoul circled and circled round and round, the others watching, spellbound. This was a performance indeed. Never had they seen them dance so evocatively. They were the perfect couple. Tenille's hair, loosened from its confining pins, was in disarray, their bodies almost touching in sensuous intimacy. The onlookers were completely caught up in their dance of the age-old male attempt for domination, and the female desire to test the worthiness of her suitor.
It was the Bulerias ⦠its tempo even faster and wilder, when suddenly Tenille cried out and dramatically fell to the ground. The music stopped. Manuel strangled his throat. Silence filled the room and Raoul looked on, stricken. What could have happened? Devon was the first to rush over.
âOh Ten, are you all right? What's wrong?' Concern flowed from her as Tenille looked up.
âI don't know, Dev. One moment I was dancing, the next I felt this bang in my leg.' She shook her head in disbelief. âIt was like someone kicked me at the back and down I went.'
Devon thought she sounded quite normal and certainly not in serious pain, but decided to check.
âNo. I don't seem to hurt anywhere.'
âCan you get up?' Raoul asked.
âYes. Actually I'm fine. I don't know what made me go down.' He helped her to her feet, the others didn't move, watching intently. As soon as she was on her feet, she realized there
was
something wrong. It was her left foot. She gasped, as realization took hold and she leaned heavily on Raoul's arm. âDamn. Damn, damn.'
âWhat is it?' Devon was beginning to feel anxious. âCan you walk?'
âNo, not properly.' Tenille's medical training re-asserted itself. She recalled her rotation on Orthopaedics. She had encountered sports people with this. âI've severed my Achilles tendon.'
âYou've done what?' Raoul cried out, bewildered, as he looked down at her.
âYou know the big fat tendon at the back of your ankle, above the heel,' she explained. They all nodded, paying close attention. âWell, it's let go, either partially or wholly. I don't know which yet, but I do know this. It's put paid to my dancing.' She stood with Raoul and Devon, one on either side, giving support.
âYou won't be able to dance?' Raoul was stunned by the sudden news. They were all numb with shock.
âFor how long?' Devon asked.
She pulled a woebegone face. âLet's put it this way. The tour is off for me.' Illogically, inside she was experiencing a sense of relief. From one viewpoint this accident was good ⦠no question of leaving Toronto now. From another, the chance of a lifetime was about to be lost. So very mixed up, in the end it was impossible to decide what she felt, apart from aghast.
âOkay everybody,' Raoul ordered: âThis is it for tonight. The tour is still on, but it will have to be minus Tenille. I'll see if I can get a replacement. It's short notice, but I'll ask Janine. It's worth a try and she'll have no problem with documents.' There were nods of agreement, but people were still reeling from the speed of the change of events. âWhatever happens, the tour isn't cancelled so I'll see you all at Pearson International, tomorrow night at six o'clock.' They began to drift away. The drama was over and Tenille was not desperately ill.
Raoul turned to the women. âCan you two manage? Have you got your car, Devon?'
âYes. I'll take care of her,' she agreed as she sat Tenille down on the chair which someone had thoughtfully provided.
Raoul spoke directly to the seated woman.
âThis is such a bad thing to happen to you, Ten. I'm really sorry you'll not be coming with us. You know I really had hopes for you and me, dancing together.' He stared hard into her now troubled eyes. âYes, I had big plans for you and me.' He let go a deep sigh. âSpain, even.' She gazed back at him thinking too, of her lost opportunities. It was a hard blow. âOur last dance together was magnificent,' Raoul enthused. âYou felt it too, didn't you?' He looked at her earnestly.
âI did, Raoul. I felt it was our best yet,' she acknowledged.
Now Raoul hunkered down in front of her and took her hands in his, holding them gently. âCan I see you when we get back? Will you be here or with your Mama?' She looked into his excited, Spanish eyes and thought he had never looked more handsome than in this moment, on his knees, before her. But she was not for him.
âI don't know, Raoul.' She could see the worry lines on his face, his black hair in boyish dishevelment from the dance, a lock falling unnoticed across his brow. His dark, heavily lashed eyes were seeming to bore into her, trying to communicate his innermost feelings at this eleventh hour, before they would leave each other.
“Another separation,”
she thought sadly. Raoul had been very good to her and she appreciated all he had done. The encouragement: extra coaching: she owed him a great deal. She turned to the tall woman by her side.
âDev, will you get my purse please? I'll give you both my mother's phone number so if I'm in Lindsay when you get back you can call me and tell me all your news.' Devon went off to do as requested, and then Raoul pulled up a chair. He put his arms around Tenille and clasped her to him. Muffled words floated to her as he spoke into her hair, still holding her tight.
âI never told you this before, Tenille,' the words hovered above her: âI thought we'd have time once we were away, but I really feel a lot for you and would very much like to continue our relationship, apart from the dancing.' He pulled back now to ask: âWould you like that too?' He tilted her chin towards him and she could feel an imminent kiss. She didn't know what to say. This was the declaration she had feared and had tried so hard to avoid.
“Devon, hurry up,”
she prayed. She needed rescuing; what could be keeping her?
âRaoul, I appreciate all you have done for me,' she stalled. It was difficult talking with her chin pushed up like this. âEspecially important to me was your belief in my ability.' She looked back at him sincerely. âI guess you saw to my inner depths and could see the dancer who still, as yet, has not fully emerged.' She was now able to turn her head away. She looked down at the floor. âFor all these reasons, you are a very special person to me.'
He could feel the âbut' coming so took his hand away, although his eyes held their gaze. He wasn't used to a rejection and his Latin temperament began to assert itself. He clenched his fists 'til the knuckles showed white. Then he cut across her words, harshly.
â
Carramba
. Are you telling me you are not attracted to me?' He jumped up and spun towards her on his heels, eyes blazing, darts of resentment shooting her way. In his frustration he lashed out, boiling to a white heat inside. âYou lead a man on, then tell him NO. Well, you don't mess with Raoul Losada like that.' He was shouting now and jerked her up to her feet with one hand. She almost fell, but his grip was tight. His flaming anger built quickly to the flash point. âLead me on, Bitch, would you? Dance with me like we just did. You whore.' He grabbed her by the shoulders, squeezing so hard she whimpered. Both his anger and frustration erupted together as he pulled her roughly against him and crushed his mouth to hers. The salty, metallic taste of blood as his teeth cut her lip, but he didn't care, losing control at a fast rate. He wanted her to suffer for her insolence. For being a cock-teaser and he had fallen for it.
âFucking cunt.' She was almost bent double.
âRAOUL?' a voice called. âWhat are you doing?' Devon ran into the room and tried to spin him away. She was shocked at what she had seen. The treatment had been brutal. But he was too strong, too mindless.
âRAOUL,' she commanded again. âStop this, for god's sake.'
This time the sound of her voice brought him to his senses. He released Tenille and stepped back, breathing heavily through flared nostrils. Regarding her coldly, eyes still smoldering he delivered himself of his final words. âThis is goodbye. After your recovery, don't try coming to me to get you back onto dancing feet. I'll not be used a second time ⦠I never want to see you again.' With the completion of this parting shot, he strode out of the room, slamming the door. They looked at each other, stunned. Devon was the first to recover, although still dazed.
âSit Ten.'
She lowered her gently to the chair. âYour poor lip.' She took her face in her hands and looked it over carefully. âMen are such bastards. No wonder we don't like them,' she observed cynically.
Tenille was taken by surprise, as Devon pulled up her chair. This opinion had never been expressed before. Was she changing?
âWhat happened Ten? Can you talk about it?'
This time they were Devon's arms around her. It was all becoming too much. She just wanted to get home; to be left alone to deal with this herself. Pulling away from the embrace, her reply came out sharper than she meant. âNo. Drop it. Let's go, okay?'
Devon looked down, taken aback by this rough response and let her arms fall. She had been sure Tenille would want comforting, but she too, was being rejected. Perhaps this woman was nothing more than a user, as Raoul had accused.
âYes,' she said coldly, âI'll help you to the car.' She stood up and raised Tenille to her feet again, the pen and paper lying forgotten, on the seat beside them.
âOh Dev, I'm sorry.' Tenille felt guilty over hurting her friend. âI don't mean to take it out on you, I'm just in a state right now, please try to understand. So much has happened.' Her dark eyes grew round with pleading. Devon could not hold out against such an appeal to her better nature.
âNo. It's I who should say sorry ⦠I wasn't thinking and just being my usual selfish self.' She took Tenille's weight as she hopped to the top of the stairs. Getting down them wasn't easy, so in the end she sat and went down, one stair at a time. Devon helped her to the sidewalk where she sat until her return with the car. Settling Tenille inside, she finished up by saying, âI'll go get our things and be right back.'
As she disengaged the hand brake she enquired: âHow does the ankle feel now?'
âIt's really all right. I feel something of a fraud. But it's for sure, I will need to get it fixed.'
âPerhaps I should take you straight to the hospital, rather than home?' Devon amended.
âThey may keep me, so I want to have the things I need ⦠and certainly not go dressed like this.' She looked down at her practise gear; tight, black leotard top with low, scooped neckline; apple green skirt. They'd think she was off the street.
âOkay,' she agreed. âYour place first and get you organized for the hospital.' A cyclist forced her to jam on her brakes, shooting Tenille forward. This made her pay more attention to the road from there on. Eventually she asked where she wanted to go, suggesting the Toronto General Hospital, but Tenille opted for the O&A.
âI'll call in and see if they can take me. They specialize in this sort of thing so I'd rather go there. I know too much to settle for less than a specialist facility.'
Silence fell between them as Devon drove the rest of the way. She would be taking off tomorrow and wouldn't see Tenille for two, maybe three weeks. She wouldn't know where to get in touch with her on her return either, unless she got her parents' number.
There was to be one more meeting with Raoul at the rehearsal rooms and he would be handing out tickets. Tenille and Devon would not be going to Belen's, but that had all been squared away with her and she had wished them well. Just the participants on the tour would be there, with Amaia, looking only slightly pregnant at this stage. This was to be their last run through before leaving; a final look at the costumes and all the bits and pieces. Tenille's new dress was absolutely gorgeous and she looked stunning. With the different color accents, she could dress it up or down; be sophisticated or cheeky.
Devon arrived soon after Tenille and was shocked by what she saw. Dark circles under her eyes, a look of strain about them. With her mouth in a tight line, all in all, she did not appear herself.
âGood God Ten, what's happened to you?' was her abrupt greeting. âYou're not changing your mind are you?' she enquired more solicitously.
âNo. Silly.' Was she too quick in her denial? Devon didn't notice.
âGood.' She asked no more, but it left Tenille believing she really must look awful. Maybe she was run down with all the stress of recent weeks.
âListen, mother's driving me to the airport. I thought we could stop by your place and pick you up. I know the bus service from The Royal York is good, but I thought it would be more fun if we went together. Don't you think?' she encouraged her.
âYes, thanks Dev. I'd like that,' with so much luggage, this was great. She had had to borrow a suitcase from Mrs. Sandrelli as it was. The prospect cheered her and left her feeling brighter. It would be all right.
Raoul was very
hyped
, now they were so close to the end. He watched critically and even Manuel was not exempt, although ostensibly under Stavros' direction. Eventually he was satisfied, but he wanted one more time on Soleares. He felt Tenille was too static; needed to express more personal feeling. Her steps were correct, but they had lacked the Latin fire.
âWe try again,' he commanded her. âDance with me as if I am the only man in your life.' His eyes bored into her.
âNow â¦' The music played and they became swept up in its rhythm and passion. This time she allowed it to flow into her and fill her being, putting her all into the sensuous tempi. She whirled and stomped, her body undulating in sinuous and erotic motion. She felt the power of the music and the power of her womanliness. The fire, and her rapture for Spanish music consumed her. She and Raoul circled and circled round and round, the others watching, spellbound. This was a performance indeed. Never had they seen them dance so evocatively. They were the perfect couple. Tenille's hair, loosened from its confining pins, was in disarray, their bodies almost touching in sensuous intimacy. The onlookers were completely caught up in their dance of the age-old male attempt for domination, and the female desire to test the worthiness of her suitor.
It was the Bulerias ⦠its tempo even faster and wilder, when suddenly Tenille cried out and dramatically fell to the ground. The music stopped. Manuel strangled his throat. Silence filled the room and Raoul looked on, stricken. What could have happened? Devon was the first to rush over.
âOh Ten, are you all right? What's wrong?' Concern flowed from her as Tenille looked up.
âI don't know, Dev. One moment I was dancing, the next I felt this bang in my leg.' She shook her head in disbelief. âIt was like someone kicked me at the back and down I went.'
Devon thought she sounded quite normal and certainly not in serious pain, but decided to check.
âNo. I don't seem to hurt anywhere.'
âCan you get up?' Raoul asked.
âYes. Actually I'm fine. I don't know what made me go down.' He helped her to her feet, the others didn't move, watching intently. As soon as she was on her feet, she realized there
was
something wrong. It was her left foot. She gasped, as realization took hold and she leaned heavily on Raoul's arm. âDamn. Damn, damn.'
âWhat is it?' Devon was beginning to feel anxious. âCan you walk?'
âNo, not properly.' Tenille's medical training re-asserted itself. She recalled her rotation on Orthopaedics. She had encountered sports people with this. âI've severed my Achilles tendon.'
âYou've done what?' Raoul cried out, bewildered, as he looked down at her.
âYou know the big fat tendon at the back of your ankle, above the heel,' she explained. They all nodded, paying close attention. âWell, it's let go, either partially or wholly. I don't know which yet, but I do know this. It's put paid to my dancing.' She stood with Raoul and Devon, one on either side, giving support.
âYou won't be able to dance?' Raoul was stunned by the sudden news. They were all numb with shock.
âFor how long?' Devon asked.
She pulled a woebegone face. âLet's put it this way. The tour is off for me.' Illogically, inside she was experiencing a sense of relief. From one viewpoint this accident was good ⦠no question of leaving Toronto now. From another, the chance of a lifetime was about to be lost. So very mixed up, in the end it was impossible to decide what she felt, apart from aghast.
âOkay everybody,' Raoul ordered: âThis is it for tonight. The tour is still on, but it will have to be minus Tenille. I'll see if I can get a replacement. It's short notice, but I'll ask Janine. It's worth a try and she'll have no problem with documents.' There were nods of agreement, but people were still reeling from the speed of the change of events. âWhatever happens, the tour isn't cancelled so I'll see you all at Pearson International, tomorrow night at six o'clock.' They began to drift away. The drama was over and Tenille was not desperately ill.
Raoul turned to the women. âCan you two manage? Have you got your car, Devon?'
âYes. I'll take care of her,' she agreed as she sat Tenille down on the chair which someone had thoughtfully provided.
Raoul spoke directly to the seated woman.
âThis is such a bad thing to happen to you, Ten. I'm really sorry you'll not be coming with us. You know I really had hopes for you and me, dancing together.' He stared hard into her now troubled eyes. âYes, I had big plans for you and me.' He let go a deep sigh. âSpain, even.' She gazed back at him thinking too, of her lost opportunities. It was a hard blow. âOur last dance together was magnificent,' Raoul enthused. âYou felt it too, didn't you?' He looked at her earnestly.
âI did, Raoul. I felt it was our best yet,' she acknowledged.
Now Raoul hunkered down in front of her and took her hands in his, holding them gently. âCan I see you when we get back? Will you be here or with your Mama?' She looked into his excited, Spanish eyes and thought he had never looked more handsome than in this moment, on his knees, before her. But she was not for him.
âI don't know, Raoul.' She could see the worry lines on his face, his black hair in boyish dishevelment from the dance, a lock falling unnoticed across his brow. His dark, heavily lashed eyes were seeming to bore into her, trying to communicate his innermost feelings at this eleventh hour, before they would leave each other.
“Another separation,”
she thought sadly. Raoul had been very good to her and she appreciated all he had done. The encouragement: extra coaching: she owed him a great deal. She turned to the tall woman by her side.
âDev, will you get my purse please? I'll give you both my mother's phone number so if I'm in Lindsay when you get back you can call me and tell me all your news.' Devon went off to do as requested, and then Raoul pulled up a chair. He put his arms around Tenille and clasped her to him. Muffled words floated to her as he spoke into her hair, still holding her tight.
âI never told you this before, Tenille,' the words hovered above her: âI thought we'd have time once we were away, but I really feel a lot for you and would very much like to continue our relationship, apart from the dancing.' He pulled back now to ask: âWould you like that too?' He tilted her chin towards him and she could feel an imminent kiss. She didn't know what to say. This was the declaration she had feared and had tried so hard to avoid.
“Devon, hurry up,”
she prayed. She needed rescuing; what could be keeping her?
âRaoul, I appreciate all you have done for me,' she stalled. It was difficult talking with her chin pushed up like this. âEspecially important to me was your belief in my ability.' She looked back at him sincerely. âI guess you saw to my inner depths and could see the dancer who still, as yet, has not fully emerged.' She was now able to turn her head away. She looked down at the floor. âFor all these reasons, you are a very special person to me.'
He could feel the âbut' coming so took his hand away, although his eyes held their gaze. He wasn't used to a rejection and his Latin temperament began to assert itself. He clenched his fists 'til the knuckles showed white. Then he cut across her words, harshly.
â
Carramba
. Are you telling me you are not attracted to me?' He jumped up and spun towards her on his heels, eyes blazing, darts of resentment shooting her way. In his frustration he lashed out, boiling to a white heat inside. âYou lead a man on, then tell him NO. Well, you don't mess with Raoul Losada like that.' He was shouting now and jerked her up to her feet with one hand. She almost fell, but his grip was tight. His flaming anger built quickly to the flash point. âLead me on, Bitch, would you? Dance with me like we just did. You whore.' He grabbed her by the shoulders, squeezing so hard she whimpered. Both his anger and frustration erupted together as he pulled her roughly against him and crushed his mouth to hers. The salty, metallic taste of blood as his teeth cut her lip, but he didn't care, losing control at a fast rate. He wanted her to suffer for her insolence. For being a cock-teaser and he had fallen for it.
âFucking cunt.' She was almost bent double.
âRAOUL?' a voice called. âWhat are you doing?' Devon ran into the room and tried to spin him away. She was shocked at what she had seen. The treatment had been brutal. But he was too strong, too mindless.
âRAOUL,' she commanded again. âStop this, for god's sake.'
This time the sound of her voice brought him to his senses. He released Tenille and stepped back, breathing heavily through flared nostrils. Regarding her coldly, eyes still smoldering he delivered himself of his final words. âThis is goodbye. After your recovery, don't try coming to me to get you back onto dancing feet. I'll not be used a second time ⦠I never want to see you again.' With the completion of this parting shot, he strode out of the room, slamming the door. They looked at each other, stunned. Devon was the first to recover, although still dazed.
âSit Ten.'
She lowered her gently to the chair. âYour poor lip.' She took her face in her hands and looked it over carefully. âMen are such bastards. No wonder we don't like them,' she observed cynically.
Tenille was taken by surprise, as Devon pulled up her chair. This opinion had never been expressed before. Was she changing?
âWhat happened Ten? Can you talk about it?'
This time they were Devon's arms around her. It was all becoming too much. She just wanted to get home; to be left alone to deal with this herself. Pulling away from the embrace, her reply came out sharper than she meant. âNo. Drop it. Let's go, okay?'
Devon looked down, taken aback by this rough response and let her arms fall. She had been sure Tenille would want comforting, but she too, was being rejected. Perhaps this woman was nothing more than a user, as Raoul had accused.
âYes,' she said coldly, âI'll help you to the car.' She stood up and raised Tenille to her feet again, the pen and paper lying forgotten, on the seat beside them.
âOh Dev, I'm sorry.' Tenille felt guilty over hurting her friend. âI don't mean to take it out on you, I'm just in a state right now, please try to understand. So much has happened.' Her dark eyes grew round with pleading. Devon could not hold out against such an appeal to her better nature.
âNo. It's I who should say sorry ⦠I wasn't thinking and just being my usual selfish self.' She took Tenille's weight as she hopped to the top of the stairs. Getting down them wasn't easy, so in the end she sat and went down, one stair at a time. Devon helped her to the sidewalk where she sat until her return with the car. Settling Tenille inside, she finished up by saying, âI'll go get our things and be right back.'
As she disengaged the hand brake she enquired: âHow does the ankle feel now?'
âIt's really all right. I feel something of a fraud. But it's for sure, I will need to get it fixed.'
âPerhaps I should take you straight to the hospital, rather than home?' Devon amended.
âThey may keep me, so I want to have the things I need ⦠and certainly not go dressed like this.' She looked down at her practise gear; tight, black leotard top with low, scooped neckline; apple green skirt. They'd think she was off the street.
âOkay,' she agreed. âYour place first and get you organized for the hospital.' A cyclist forced her to jam on her brakes, shooting Tenille forward. This made her pay more attention to the road from there on. Eventually she asked where she wanted to go, suggesting the Toronto General Hospital, but Tenille opted for the O&A.
âI'll call in and see if they can take me. They specialize in this sort of thing so I'd rather go there. I know too much to settle for less than a specialist facility.'
Silence fell between them as Devon drove the rest of the way. She would be taking off tomorrow and wouldn't see Tenille for two, maybe three weeks. She wouldn't know where to get in touch with her on her return either, unless she got her parents' number.
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