Chapter 10

The following week, at Steven's suggestion, they gave Tom a lift to dancing class. He was clearly delighted until Becca rather diffidently turned to him in the car.

"Tom," she asked, "would you mind very much if I didn't dance with you this week? It's just that I don't want to give the wrong impression."

"Whatever you want," he replied but his voice was tinged with sadness.

Becca noticed it straightaway. "It's not that I don't enjoy dancing with you. I do. I just feel that it might be taken the wrong way if I only ever danced with you."

"I understand and you're probably right."

Tom moved away from them when they arrived and Steven turned to Becca.

"I think you've done the right thing. Well done. It must have taken some courage."

She smiled gratefully up at him. "I certainly didn't like doing it," she replied.

"Would you like him to join us for your birthday dinner on Saturday?"

Her face lit up. "Would you mind?"

He grinned. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I did."

She squeezed his arm. "Thank you. I'd love to ask him. I'll do it on the way home."

The class started and once again after some solo work partners were selected. Tom didn't even look at Becca but found another girl. The other two boys from the previous week made a beeline for her again. She chose the one with dark hair who told her his name was Douglas but that only his mother called him that. Everyone else called him Doug.

There was no shyness about him and he chatted easily and confidently in the short time before the class was called to order again. There was no timidity about body contact either. In fact, it did not take him long to use his entire trunk rather than just his chest to lead. Becca recognised what was happening and did her best to move away from him. When there was a break for Giselle to explain something to everybody Doug kept his right arm round her. The first time Becca went with it but on the second occasion when he let his hand slide to her hip she silently but firmly removed it.

"What's wrong?" he asked feigning innocence.

"I don't like it," she replied firmly.

They were off again before he could reply. A few minutes later another halt was called and he tried again. Once more Becca removed his hand.

"I told you before that I didn't like that," she said. "Since you took no notice I'm not dancing with you anymore." She walked over to where Steven was sitting and sat beside him.

"Getting ahead of himself?" asked Steven softly.

She nodded.

"May I have the honour?" he went on. Her delighted smile gave him the answer.

The rest of the class passed uneventfully but Becca loved every minute of it. At the end Steven gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you, little one. You're a joy to dance with: as light as a feather and with a lovely sense of rhythm."

"Thank you for coming to my rescue. I love dancing with you."

Tom rejoined them in the foyer and they made their way silently to the car. Once inside Tom asked Becca what had happened.

"He was too forward," she replied.

"That tallies."

"What do you mean?"

"He thinks himself a bit of a lady's man. He's always bragging at school about his conquests."

"What's his surname?" Steven butted in.

"Allardyce, sir. His father's the bookie, Hugo Allardyce."

"Thanks, Tom."

"Tom," ventured Becca hesitantly," Uncle Steven's taking me out for a birthday dinner on Saturday evening. Would you like to come with us?"

There was a stunned silence from the back of the car.

"Tom, would you?"

"Do you really mean it?"

"Of course I do, you silly, otherwise I wouldn't have asked you."

"Yes, please. Very much but I'll have to check with my parents first."

"Do. I'd love you to be able to come."

"Tell you what," interjected Steven, "why don't you ask them as soon as we drop you off and we'll wait outside. Then, if your parents want to give us the once over, they can."

"Thank you, sir. That's a great idea."

Tom raced indoors and a very short while later followed his father back out again. Steven got out of the car to meet him.

Tom's father held out his hand with a friendly smile on his face. "Hello, Mr Hardacre," he said. "It's nice to meet you at last."

Steven shook his hand looking slightly puzzled.

"Frank Edwards," he said. "I haven't ever dealt with you direct but my staff have spoken glowingly of you after the two or three of our clients you investigated for us."

"Ah," said Steven. "To tell the truth, I'd forgotten about them."

"Very sensible and now where is this niece of yours that Tom has spoken so highly of?"

Steven turned and, smiling encouragingly at Becca, beckoned for her to join them. She did so diffidently.

Frank Edwards took her hand and kissed it. "No wonder Tom's been goggle-eyed," he smiled at her. "You're a very beautiful girl."

Becca blushed with pleasure and embarrassment. A man had kissed her hand. She could not believe that anyone did that any more.

"Come on in," continued Frank. "My wife's looking forward to meeting you both."

He led the way with Tom and Becca bringing up the rear. Tom could not, despite his shyness, resist it. He took her hand and squeezed it.

"You've won another admirer," he whispered.

Becca stifled a giggle and blushed again.

They were met in the front hall by a tiny woman. It was doubtful if she was even five foot. There was no doubt though where Tom had got his red hair from. A glorious mane of Titian hair fell to her shoulders. Like Becca she had huge green eyes which were full of warmth and humour. Becca was drawn to her immediately.

"Golly!" exclaimed Steven even before he was introduced. "You two could be sisters with those eyes."

She smiled. "Her older, cruel sister possibly," she said. "How do you do, Mr Hardacre, and hello, Becca. How nice to meet you both."

"Well," said Frank, "clearly no introductions are necessary. How about a drink? What about you, Becca?"

"Have you got any ginger beer, Mr Edwards?"

"Yes, I think so. Tom, would you do the honours? What about you, Mr Hardacre?"

"A glass of beer would go down a treat."

"Certainly. Gin and tonic, my dear?"

She smiled at him. "Yes please, darling." She turned to Becca. "Come and sit down, my dear." She led her to the sofa. "Please sit down, Mr Hardacre."

"I'm sorry to hear about your mother, Becca," she went on. "It must have been a horrid shock for you too," she added to Steven.

"Yes, it was but black clouds have a silver lining and I've now got my favourite niece living with me."

"Your only niece, Uncle Steven."

"So there's no one to displace you."

Mrs Edwards chuckled. "Are you both always like this?"

"It's getting worse," said Steven dolefully. "Familiarity breeds contempt."

Becca wrinkled her nose at him.

"See what I mean?" he added plaintively.

That caused further laughter as father and son came back in. Tom handed Becca her ginger beer with a shy smile and went to sit down in one of the armchairs with his own.

"Well," said his father, "it sounds as though the party's started already. Let's drop the formality. My name's Frank and my wife's is Isobel."

"And mine's Steven. I think you all know Becca's."

There was polite conversation for a few minutes and then Isobel turned to Becca.

"Tom tells me you've very kindly invited him to join you and your uncle for your birthday dinner on Saturday."

Becca nodded.

"Where and when?"

"I don't know, Mrs Edwards."

"Isobel."

Becca stared at her in disbelief. Isobel patted her hand.

"Really, my dear. Now, if we don't know where you're going and what time Tom should be ready we can hardly give permission, can we?" Her eyes were dancing with fun and Becca could not resist joining in.