‘You okay, Tig?’
When she doesn’t answer, Pen and I exchange worried glances. Maybe I should have taken her cry for help a little more seriously.
‘Where’s Theo?’ asks Pen.
This only makes Tig sigh.
‘Talk to us,’ I tell her.
‘He’s over there.’
She points to where two dozen people are taking a beginners’ salsa lesson.
‘That’s great that he wants to learn,’ I say.
Tig runs her fingers through her hair. ‘I know, I know, but he’s just …’
‘Really rather shit?’ supplies Pen, who’s peering at the lines of dancers struggling to keep time with Celia Cruz.
Theo’s easy to spot because he’s the one who goes forwards when everyone else goes backwards.
‘Ouch,’ I say when he collides with the woman in front of him for the third time in thirty seconds.
‘He’s gonna need his first aid kit to patch up that girl when he’s done,’ says Pen and I’m honestly not sure if she’s joking.
I make Tig shove over so we can sit down. ‘Is it really such a problem he’s not a great dancer?’
‘I wanted to do a salsa as our first dance.’
‘Which song?’ asks Pen.
‘“Thinking of You”, the salsa version of that Lenny Kravitz song.’
Pen nods in approval. ‘Niche, but nice.’
‘Maybe you could meet halfway and do something easier, like a waltz?’
‘Salsa is already the compromise. My first choice was a tango, I even chose a dress that I could dance in, but after three lessons we decided it wasn’t going to work.’
‘Well, if this is his first attempt at a salsa, he’s doing okay.’
Tig’s lip wobbles. ‘It’s his fifth.’
Pen is trying hard not to laugh, but a giggle slips out. Tig elbows her. ‘It’s not funny!’
‘I’m sorry,’ says Pen, not looking particularly sorry. ‘You’ll laugh about it one day.’
I squeeze Tig’s knee. ‘You know what’s amazing about all this? He’s putting himself through this because he knows it will make you happy. Love isn’t doing the easy thing. It’s doing the hard thing.’
I wait for her to tell me to stop sounding like a therapist, but surprisingly, she stays quiet.
Blimey, things must be bad.
‘We’re here to help, Tig,’ I tell her. ‘So, how can we help?’
‘I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,’ she wails. ‘I thought it would be fun organising a wedding, but I’m so stressed, I’m getting bacne.’
‘We can deal with a few spots. A BHA cream and concealer, and you’ll be sorted.’
