Elizabeth Cage
Out of one life, into another.
As the vintage black Citroen DS glided down the motorway she leaned back in the passenger seat, wallowing in the lush orchestration of Piazzola’s Libertango playing, wanting to soak herself in the music, to become part of it. She thought of how she used to dance.
“Look at that sky,” said Max, who was driving as usual. He never liked being the passenger.
The sun had turned the trees to an orange haze against a smoke-blue background. “It will be a good summer,” Max observed. She hoped he was right.
The car moved across to the left hand lane to leave the motorway at the next junction. She closed her eyes and remembered the first time she danced, when she was caught up in the excitement of something new, eager to learn.
“Is this a Milonga?” she had asked, when the music began to play.
“No,” he’d told her. “This is a tango-vals. It has a different rhythm.”
It hardly seemed ten years ago to the day since she had met Max, when he had become her dance partner. When he spoke and she listened it felt like an almost tangible thread of conversation, taut and easily snapped. She wanted to touch it. He had tried to help when she was unhappy with her lover, Eryck.
“Take what you want from him but give back what he wants from you,” he had advised. “Give as much as you take in equal measure. It’s a transaction - the best that any of us can hope for from a relationship.”
She had sighed. Was it true? Or should she spend the rest of her life taking the blame for other people’s hurt and pain?
“You were always straight with Eryck,” Max had continued. “He knew what he was getting into. You both had fun. People have to take responsibility for their own life.”
She knew he was right but that didn’t make it any easier. It had taken her a long time to realise that Eryck had been an emotional vampire, draining her feelings, sucking her dry until there was nothing left but an empty chasm.
The car swung into a long, tree-lined drive. They were nearly there. The journey had not felt as long as she had expected. She opened her eyes at last. The other guests had already arrived and she recognised couples as they made their way up the stone steps, the women in their long black dresses, decorated with beads, the men in dark suits.
They walked inside and joined the other couples, who were already dancing to the haunting, beckoning music. She gave a breathless moan. This beautiful tango music had sustained her for ten long years, had never deserted her. Be where I am, it told her.
“Is this a Milonga?” she asked.
Taking her arm, Max replied, “Yes.”
And she smiled, for now they were dancing to the same music.
Read Elizabeth Cage's other stories and interviews now!
Second Helpings interview: http://www.femalefirst.co.uk/books/second-helpings-282047.html
Love Bites interview: http://www.femalefirst.co.uk/books/love-bites-282044.html
Call Me shory story: http://www.femalefirst.co.uk/books/call-me-276341.html