Chapter 9

Stan woke up late Saturday morning.

At first he lay still while he put his scattered mind back together. Then he rolled onto his back, whispered, "Good morning, love, " and went over what had happened last night.

With the morning sunlight flickering through the curtains, last night's events didn't seem so momentous. Last night he'd thought the evening was incredible. He'd spoken to Anne in a non-work setting; it had been almost as if they'd been to a dinner date on their own. Now, this morning, he felt that he'd over-dramatised it. It hadn't been a non-work setting after all. Percy and Rick had been right there at their table. And yet...

And yet they'd all but completely disappeared from his mind last night. To him, it had felt like the only person there with him was Anne. What did that mean?

It meant he'd betrayed Caron. 'Oh, God, forgive me!' he thought and he saw in his mind's eye his wife's loving eyes, bright with amusement. Did that mean she gave her blessing? 'Do you mean that, love?' he asked her, and felt a warmth run through him as it came to him that Caron would want him to live on, and that included the romantic part of his life too. Stan felt a great weight lifting from over him. It wasn't a physical thing, more like an oppressive feeling that had now dissipated.

Now he had things to do. Stan went about his morning routine while thinking through his next move. He needed to get in touch with Belinda or Yves and ask if Anne could come along to the next class. He thought he'd better do that as soon as he'd had breakfast.

He got his morning coffee and a bowl of cereal and sat down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. Over his cereal he thought about what he wanted to happen. He wanted to actually go out with Anne, not just to a dance class as a friend, but as a boyfriend. Ha! A boyfriend who was almost ten years her senior. Did he really think he had anything to offer such a wonderful person?

"Oh God, I'm going to have to ask her out!" he groaned. In all his life he'd only ever done that once, to Caron, the first time. After that, with Caron, things had just... happened. Caron had initiated everything. In fact, he'd come to understand that she'd fished for him and hooked him beautifully, including the beautifully engineered opening that Emma had so brilliantly carried out. In truth, Stan had never stood a chance, but he'd gone willingly to his doom.

It wasn't going to be the same with Anne, since she'd expect him to at least make the first steps himself. His doubts returned. 'She's surely not going to want anything more than a dance lesson with me, ' he thought.

Well, in the minibus last night she'd consented to taking dance classes. He'd promised to make the arrangements, so he'd better get on with it, he mused. 'Time passes quickly enough with my woolgathering.'

Finished with his breakfast, he rinsed out his bowl and mug and set them to drain. He grabbed his phone and dialled the dance studio.

After a few rings, he heard Belinda's cultured voice, "Hello, YB Dance Studio, how can I help?"

"Hi Belinda, it's Stan Hinch. How are you? Have you got a moment?"

"Oh, Hello Stan. Yves and I are fine, busy but fine. Nice to hear from you, nothing bad I hope?" she said.

"No, no, quite the opposite I think. I've got someone who'd like to come along to class, if that's all right. But she wants to come on Monday."

"Oh, that'll be fine, Stan," Belinda replied. "We'll be starting the Quickstep on Monday, so you'll be beginners together for that. Are you going to be bringing her, Stan?" Something in her voice told Stan her eyes were twinkling, even though she was miles away on the other end of a phone line.

"Erm, yes, er, Yeah. Sorry. Yes, I'll be bringing her. The name's Anne Berkely."

"Okay then Stan, I'll see you on Monday night. With Anne. I look forward to meeting her!" Belinda rang off with the faintest of quiet laughter.

On Sunday morning Stan once again took himself off into town in search of a late breakfast. This time he went straight to Iorio's.

He walked in, nodded at the man behind the counter, said "Hello!" and sat on one of the tall bar stools there. The guy, who Stan assumed was the proprietor, said "Hi. You were here this time last week, weren't you? My name's Tony. What can I get you?"

"Oh, Hi! Yes, I was. It's Stan, by the way. Er, I'll have a double espresso and a turkey-bacon panini, please."

As Tony made the coffee, Stan called out over the hissing noise, "I'm impressed you remember me with only one visit from a week ago."

"Ah, what you don't know is that I'm friends with Elaine and Susan, and they saw you coming out last week as they came in," Tony said. "Another couple of minutes and you'd have walked right into them. They were just up the road coming here when they saw you leaving.

"So they came in and we got to talking about you, and your friend Denise. That's why I remember. Plus, it helps that I've a good memory for faces anyway. One double espresso, and I'll just get that panini for you."

They exchanged a little more chat, and Stan ate his breakfast and enjoyed his coffee, which he followed up with another. 'That should give me enough caffeine, better hold off a little now, ' he decided.

Other customers came in and Tony became busy.

"Tony, can I have an OJ to go with this, please?" he asked of the owner, indicating that he'd go to the back for a while. He took a newspaper from the rack and went to one of the booths in the rear. Tony brought his orange juice, and Stan settled down to study the latest developments in whatever scandal the paper could dig up. A few minutes later his reading was interrupted by a woman clearing her throat.