Without Looking Back

  Dad fell silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘What about that girl you dance with – Tess, isn’t it? The one with the most amazing feet?’

  Max and Millie burst into laughter. Louis said nothing. (It had been an on-going joke ever since he’d come back from his first dance class in Windermere, and had made the mistake of telling the others that Tess had the most amazing feet. Feet? Max had guffawed. Feet? Even Millie had laughed.)

  ‘But she’s a girl, Daddy,’ Millie pointed out.

  ‘So?’ Dad replied. ‘I don’t remember there being any law against girls and boys being friends!’

  Millie giggled.

  ‘The girl in the burger bar?’ Max said. ‘Yeah, invite her over. She seemed cool.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. Maybe,’ Louis replied.

  He had no intention of inviting Tess over to the house for Millie to giggle at and Max to make boy-ballerina jokes to. Besides, Tess was two whole years older than him and didn’t see him as a friend – just as a freakishly good dancer, as she kept on saying: ‘But how did you get so good? I mean, I’ve done ballet and jazz since I was about three. My mum had some wild idea that I was gonna be a child star or something – look how that turned out.’ Laughter. ‘But you’re a boy. Boys don’t usually dance like you do.’

  ‘I had a friend in primary school,’ Louis replied, remembering Luc. ‘We used to try and outdo each other in the playground, body-popping and break-dancing. Then he started doing all these great new moves and I found out he’d started street-dance. I started to pester my parents and eventually they gave in.’

  ‘Don’t you miss your friends and stuff?’ They were sitting on the wall that flanked the now empty car park after their Monday dance class, waiting for Tess’s ride. ‘New Caledonia’s the other side of the world. I don’t suppose you can go back very regularly.’

  Louis scuffed the heel of his trainer against the wall and looked out across the car park. ‘I won’t be able to go back till I’m sixteen.’

  ‘Why?’ Surprise sounded in her voice.

  ‘Because – because my father doesn’t want me to, that’s why. When I’m sixteen I’ll be able to do what I like.’

  ‘He couldn’t stop you even now, surely,’ Tess said. ‘I mean, if you found a way to get the money—’

  ‘He couldn’t stop me, but he would be very upset,’ Louis said carefully. ‘He – he has bad memories of that place.’

  ‘Why? Because it’s where your mother died?’

  ‘Yeah . . .’

  ‘That must have been awful,’ Tess said. ‘I’m really sorry.’

  Louis looked away from her, for fear that his face would betray his emotions. No! he wanted to shout. No, she’s not dead! No, she’s alive and well and living in Paris! But she will be going out of her mind not knowing where we are. She will be furious with Dad. She will have contacted her lawyers and the police and our photos will have been plastered on posters all over the country.

  ‘What?’ Tess said.

  He turned back to her. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You looked really angry for a moment.’ Silence. ‘There’s Mum.’ She jumped down from the wall. ‘See you Thursday – don’t forget to practise the axel turn!’

  He waved her off and then unchained his bike and cycled home.

  That evening, Max lay face down on the sofa, which had been relegated to the end of the room so that Louis could practise his dance moves while watching his reflection against the darkness of the living-room window. Dad was upstairs, reading Millie her bedtime story.

  ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake,’ Max said as Louis’ backflip caused the TV remote to fall off the edge of the couch.

  Louis broke into some fast fouettés, counting aloud. Max took his eyes off the television screen for a moment.

  ‘How many can you do in one go?’

  Louis broke off, heaving for breath. ‘Thirty-two.’

  ‘Can you still do that one-handed cartwheel?’

  Louis demonstrated.

  ‘Cool.’ There was a silence. Max turned his eyes back to the television, but Louis could tell he wasn’t really watching it. Louis stared hard at his reflection in the living-room window and performed a slow développé.

  ‘D’you ever miss Paris?’ Max asked him suddenly.

  His leg extended in the air in front of him, Louis moved his arms slowly into fifth position. ‘Yeah. All the time.’

  ‘What d’you miss the most?’ Max asked him, his eyes still on the television screen.

  ‘Maman,’ Louis said.

  ‘I miss her too,’ Max said. ‘I mean, she used to drive me insane with her nagging and everything, but sometimes she was OK. I bet she’s furious with Dad.’

  On Thursday, Miss Kano beckoned them over and the three of them sat down cross-legged beside the stereo. ‘The details of the Junior Pair Dance Competition have finally come through. The regional heats for our area are going to be held in Preston at the end of August. Semi-finals and finals are in London.’

  Louis and Tess exchanged looks. Tess snatched the papers from Miss Kano’s hand. ‘Runner-up prizes are a thousand pounds. Grand prize is a performance in the Royal Variety Show!’

  ‘What’s the Royal Variety Show?’ Louis asked.

  Tess handed him the flyer. ‘It’s an annual show featuring the likes of Elton John and Graham Norton, with dance acts and music acts and stand-up comics. It’s usually held in some grand venue like the London Coliseum and attended by major celebrities and even the Queen.’

  Louis exhaled slowly.

  ‘Well, let’s keep our feet on the ground,’ Miss Kano said. ‘There are five age categories, and children from all over the country will be entering. But it would be a good experience for your first competition.’

  Tess shot Louis a grin.

  ‘What dance are we going to do?’ he asked.

  ‘We’ll have to get to work,’ Miss Kano replied. ‘There’s no time to spare. I’ll need you both for a full hour after class every Monday and Thursday and we’ll need to meet for two hours Saturday mornings as well. Say ten?’

  They nodded.

  ‘Fine then. I’ll see if I can book the studio for Saturdays and I’ll give you both a call to confirm. But between now and then I need you to dig out your three favourite pieces of dance music – suitable pieces, obviously. A medium to fast beat would be best. I’ll see what I can come up with too and we’ll pick the music and start the choreography on Saturday.’

  ‘Have you ever entered a dance competition before?’ Tess asked him as they sat waiting for her ride.

  ‘Yes, a few. I was due to go to one just before we – just before we left.’

  ‘I’ve only been in one before, and it was organized by the local drama school, so it didn’t really count. I was only ten and I came second. I was so upset I cried.’

  ‘Please don’t cry if we don’t win this one,’ Louis said with a little smile.

  Tess’s eyes were bright. ‘But imagine if we did win,’ she said. ‘The Royal Variety Show. We’d be on telly. Wow!’

  Suddenly, the musical sound of a demented frog erupted from her pocket. She pulled out her phone, answered it, and a rapid volley of words burst out of the handset. ‘Oh, not again,’ Tess said. ‘Yeah, OK . . .’ She sighed. ‘Yeah, OK . . . Yeah, OK. I’ll walk . . . Yeah, OK. Bye.’ She clicked the handset shut.

  ‘That was my mum,’ she told Louis. ‘The stupid car’s gone and broken down again. I’ll have to walk home and it’ll take me hours.’

  Louis looked at her. ‘D’you want a lift?’

  She stared at him in surprise, then at the bike, still chained to the railings. ‘How?’

  Louis jumped down from the wall. ‘See these two bits here?’ He said, pointing to the metal prongs on either side of the back wheel. ‘You can stand on them and then hold onto my shoulders. My sister does it all the time.’

  ‘Yeah, but I’m quite a bit bigger than your sister.’

  ‘Let’s try,’ Louis said. ‘It’s practically all d
ownhill anyway. I’ll take you back to the farmhouse and then my dad can give you a lift down to the village.’

  ‘OK.’ Tess bit her upper lip and looked worried as Louis unchained his bike. Then, once he’d straddled it, she cautiously climbed up onto the metal prongs, tightly gripping his shoulders. Louis put his foot up on the pedal, bracing himself for the extra load. ‘Ready?’ he said.

  ‘I think so.’

  Standing up on the pedals, Louis pushed off. There was a wobbly moment when the wheel turned sharply sidewards and the bike nearly toppled over, but with a few grunts he managed to get the wheels properly in motion and once they picked up some speed, it was fine.

  ‘Don’t crash, Liam.’

  ‘I’ll try not to.’

  ‘My life is quite literally in your hands.’

  The sun was turning golden as they left the town behind them and they began to pick up speed on the long, winding descent, Tess’s fingers tight against Louis’ shoulders. The wind lashed at their faces and whipped tears from their eyes and Louis stood up on the pedals, freewheeling down the road, Tess letting out a small gasp whenever the tyres bumped against a crack or a stone. The wheels whirred softly against the smooth tarmac and sequinned sunlight fell through the branches of overhanging trees. The long empty road stretched ahead of them, snaking its way into the distance as far as the eye could see.

  When they arrived at the farmhouse, after bumping their way along the seemingly endless dirt track, they found Millie out front, cradling something in her arms.

  ‘I saw you coming up from the road. Look what Daddy bought me. Look, look!’

  It was a kitten, a very small, jet-black kitten with a white stripe along its nose.

  ‘Oh, cute!’ Tess exclaimed. ‘Can I hold her?’

  ‘It’s a him,’ Millie announced proudly. ‘And his name’s Treasure.’

  As Millie carefully transferred the kitten into Tess’s arms, Louis shot her a look. ‘You already have a cat called Treasure,’ he reminded her coldly.

  ‘No, I don’t. Trésor is a French name and he’s a French cat. And he’s not mine any more.’

  ‘I think that’s a lovely name for a cat,’ Tess said. ‘It suits him perfectly. Isn’t he adorable, Liam? Look at that tiny pink nose . . .’

  They had entered the hallway now, stumbling through the clutter of newspapers, trainers and plastic bags that littered the floor. The kitchen was warm and fuggy, the oven was humming, and Dad sat poring over his laptop. After being introduced to Tess, he immediately insisted that she stay for dinner and so she rang her mother while Louis set an extra place at the table. Dad gathered up his work stuff and put it away and asked Tess polite questions about her family, her school and the GCSE courses she was about to embark on. Apparently embarrassed by the lack of greenery on the evening menu, Dad threw together a hasty salad and Tess insisted on making a complicated-looking vinaigrette. Millie was oblivious to them all, with eyes only for her new kitten.

  ‘Well, Tess, I hope you like lasagne,’ Dad said as he lifted the heavy dish from the oven and began serving. ‘After Liam’s dance classes I know that only stodgy carbohydrates will do.’

  ‘I love all food, especially Italian,’ Tess replied with feeling. ‘Smells great.’

  ‘Right, well, I think we’re just about ready,’ Dad said as Louis filled the jug with water. ‘Katie, will you go and call your brother please?’

  Millie was crawling under the table after the kitten. ‘Why can’t Liam?’

  ‘Katie, now,’ Dad said, in a voice which clearly meant: Don’t make me lose my temper when we have a guest. ‘And take the cat out of the kitchen while we eat.’

  ‘But he’s new – he’ll be frightened all alone—’ Millie began to protest, breaking off as Dad fished her out from under the table and propelled her firmly towards the door. ‘Go. Now.’

  She went reluctantly, the kitten following her, and a moment later returned, minus the new pet, and plonked herself grumpily down at the far end of the table.

  ‘Glasses, Katie,’ Louis said to her.

  ‘You’re nearer the cupboard!’

  ‘Glasses are your one and only job!’ Louis retorted.

  Tess got up quickly. ‘I can do it—’

  Louis glared at his sister. ‘Katie!’

  She jumped up, hurried over to the cupboard and began to set the glasses out with a lot of noise. Tess went over to help her. Dad finished dishing up and they all sat down. Then the kitchen door opened and Max’s eyes widened with surprise.

  ‘Hello,’ he said.

  Tess smiled. ‘You remember me then?’

  ‘Little Liam’s dancing buddy.’ Max grinned. ‘Course I do. How are you?’ He sat down, pushing up his sleeves and revealing a pair of deeply tanned arms.

  ‘Fine, thank you,’ Tess said, her cheeks suddenly pink.

  ‘Liam and Tess have been asked to perform in a dance competition together,’ Dad told Max.

  ‘Really?’ Max raised his eyebrows. ‘That sounds great.’

  Louis sighed inwardly. Since when had Max been interested in his dancing?

  ‘We’re going to start choreographing it this Saturday,’ Tess said. ‘We’ve got to find some good music first.’

  Dinner was a strange affair. Tess kept asking polite questions about their life in New Caledonia while Dad kept trying to change the subject. Millie talked endlessly about the damn cat while Max cracked jokes which only Tess seemed to find funny.

  ‘So what does Liam look like in tights?’ he asked Tess at the height of his wit.

  ‘Shut up!’ Louis snapped.

  ‘Actually, none of us wear tights,’ Tess replied, biting back a smile. ‘But Liam’s really amazing. Miss Kano says his technique’s brilliant and he’s got star quality. She thinks he should audition for the London production of Billy Elliot.’

  Louis stared down at his plate and felt his cheeks flush.

  ‘Ooh, Liam is blushing!’ Millie crowed.

  ‘Katie . . .’ Dad warned.

  ‘Of course, I’m pretty good too,’ Tess said, and they all laughed.

  After dinner, Louis managed to persuade Max to lend them his iPod and he and Tess went into the living room to hook it up to the television speakers.

  ‘How come you haven’t got a stereo or any CDs?’ Tess asked.

  ‘Um – well, we’ve only been here a month and we left most of our stuff behind in New Caledonia.’

  ‘Really? Why?’

  ‘Because – um – it was too heavy to transport. We figured it would be easier just to replace stuff when we arrived.’

  Tess looked unconvinced, but didn’t force the issue. After several minutes of fiddling, Louis finally got the speakers to work.

  They trawled through Max’s endless hip-hop collection, interspersed with the odd Ashanti/Robbie Williams/Lemar track. Now and again either Louis or Tess would get up off the floor and perform a few moves to the music to check the beat. But most of the time they just listened, facing each other on the patterned carpet with pen and paper handy to jot down any ideas. Tess sat with her back against the couch, knees drawn up, wisps of brown hair falling into her face. Louis sat cross-legged, chewing on his thumbnail, trying to picture the dance moves in his head. When they got to Bomfunk MC’s Freestyler, Tess suddenly sat up and said, ‘This could work.’

  ‘Too fast,’ Louis replied.

  ‘Yes, but all the other dances are going to be medium-beat, Lemar-style,’ Tess countered. ‘This would be the perfect tempo for stuff like spins and tumbling – your speciality.’ She stood up and kicked off her shoes. ‘Come on, let’s try some stuff.’

  ‘What, now?’ Louis asked, embarrassed.

  ‘Yes! We don’t have to do any tumbling – we can just mark it.’ She pushed the couch against the wall and started to move the coffee table. Hesitantly, Louis got to his feet and began to help her. Within seconds they had a decent space. Tess went over to the iPod, put the track back to the beginning and turned the speakers up loud.


  ‘Starting positions,’ she declared, and struck a comical pose, laughing.

  Louis began to smile. ‘Something simple,’ he said. ‘Simple starting positions are always the best.’

  ‘Back to back?’ Tess suggested.

  They tried it. ‘We’re almost exactly the same height, so that might work,’ Tess said, turning her head.

  ‘What are you talking about? I’m definitely taller!’ Louis countered jokingly, rising onto his toes.

  Tess laughed and nudged him with her bum, sending him toppling forward. She put the track back to the beginning again. ‘Legs together or apart?’ she asked.

  ‘Apart,’ Louis said. ‘Else we’ll look like telegraph poles.’

  ‘Arms only to start?’

  Louis tried a few things.

  ‘You look like a windmill,’ Tess said.

  Louis exaggerated the windmill effect and they both laughed.

  Tess demo’d some arms. ‘Like this?’ she suggested. ‘Or this, or this?’

  ‘The first one,’ Louis said. ‘And then we could turn round and do some mirror-image stuff.’

  ‘Half turn or proper turn or double turn or what?’

  ‘Half turn just so we’re facing each other,’ Louis said. ‘We’ll save the spins for later. Start off really easy. So we face each other and do the same arms and then add a bit on, like this . . .’

  ‘Oh, yes, I like that,’ Tess agreed.

  ‘Hey, hey, no – I know,’ Louis said suddenly. ‘We do mirror-image when we’re back to back and then non-mirror-image when we’re facing each other—’

  ‘Brilliant!’

  Louis put the track back to the beginning. They took up their starting positions, back to back, then twisted their heads round to look at one another, and laughed.

  ‘We can’t do that,’ Louis said.

  ‘No. Just look straight ahead,’ Tess agreed.

  The music started. ‘Five, six, seven, eight . . .’

  Millie came in and stood in the doorway just as they began. ‘Oh, please let me see the whole thing!’ she said as they broke off.

  ‘That’s all we’ve got so far,’ Louis told her.

  ‘Is that the dance you’re going to do in the competition? It’s really good!’ Millie enthused. She scooped up the kitten and sat with him on the relegated couch. ‘Treasure and me will be your audience,’ she said.