He shakes his head, fighting with himself, with the memory, with the pain. I stroke his arm.
‘She always said that with her two left legs there was no point even trying,’ he forces out. ‘And she was probably right, she was insanely clumsy.’
‘I’m sure a lot of funny things must have happened.’ Lovely things he perhaps hasn’t thought about in a long time. Experiences that still make him laugh today.
‘Oh yes.’ He gives a brief smile, his muscles relax, and then the dance teacher claps his hands again.
‘Let’s start with the basic step. Leaders begin by stepping forward with the left foot.’ I struggle to focus on him as he demonstrates the movement. ‘…and finally, bring the left foot together with the right. Followers start as a mirror image, so by stepping back with the right foot.’
Around us, the first couples start to move, some hesitantly, some confidently. Jaden and I continue to look at each other, unchanged.
Is he glad about the interruption from the instructor? Or would he have preferred to go on talking about Lilly? To remember her together with me, all the things that made her so lovable?
‘Sounds easy,’ he murmurs, but his eyes tell me that for him it’s anything but easy.
Resolutely, I straighten my back. ‘Let’s try.’ For Lilly, I add silently.
He nods. ‘For Camee,’ he says.
‘Camee?’ I raise my eyebrows in question.
‘She was Camee, I was Jayjay.’ His tone is brittle. ‘That’s what Lilly called us when she was little and couldn’t pronounce our names properly.’
‘How do you get from Lilly to Camee?’ I ask curiously.
He gives a gentle smile. ‘Her real name was Camille, but that was too old-fashioned for her. From the time she was eight, she insisted on being called Lilly.’
‘By everyone except you.’ That’s how close the two of them were.
He nods. ‘Camee and Jayjay became our thing, like a secret code that bound us together.’
My heart breaks at the thought of what Jaden must have gone through with Lilly’s illness. And already my fear is there, slipping through the crack into my soul.
Is what we’re doing here the right thing?
Ninety-four percent might still not be enough. Not for Jaden.
Before I can reply, he slowly moves his left foot forward as if in slow motion and I step back with my right. Under the instructor’s guidance we continue. It’s nowhere near a tango, but they are first steps and more will follow. When and how many doesn’t matter.
Out of nowhere the dance teacher is standing beside us. ‘Side step and close, my dears, side step and close.’
I concentrate on doing the steps correctly, not least to forget my inner restlessness, and Jaden goes along with it.
‘Very nice. Once more from the top, but a bit quicker, this is the dance of passion, after all, not of falling asleep.’ Our instructor claps his hands, setting the rhythm.
It’s way too fast. My head can’t keep up, Jaden and I step on each other’s feet, I wobble and almost fall, but he catches me.
‘Another try,’ the teacher calls out enthusiastically, and we try again.
Back – back – side – forward.
‘Keep your backs straight,’ our instructor admonishes us.
Cross – side – close.
‘Again,’ someone says, and this time it’s not the dance instructor but Jaden, and he’s smiling as he says it.
I throw him a conspiratorial look, then we keep going, get more and more into the flow, and when music suddenly floods the dance studio, it almost feels like real dancing.
