Last Dance

He was close. She could feel his presence; could almost taste it. She closed her eyes and began moving through the crowd toward the sense of destiny, twisting her body to the hammering rhythm of the strange modern music. The other clubbers cleared out of her way, though none of them would have known why. She came to a stop before her quarry and executed a slow undulating turn. Combined with the music and the violently flickering lights the effect would be hypnotic. She opened her eyes and knew that she had him.

***

‘Check her out.’ He nearly spilled his drink as his mate spun him around. ‘I think she’s after me.’

‘Dream on.’

She was hot, long blonde hair and summer tan and legs a mile long. She turned slowly around, letting him look at every inch of her, in her little denim skirt and strapless top. Her eyes when she opened them were brilliant blue, like the new paint job on his brother’s ’74 Kingswood.

She beckoned to him. 'Wanna dance?’

‘Hell yeah.’ He turned back to his mate. ‘I told you so.’

He followed her out onto the floor. She danced better than any other girl he’d met in ages. He couldn’t believe his luck, couldn’t take his eyes off her. There was something about her, some kind of female animal magnetism. He couldn’t have walked away from her even if he’d wanted to.

A few minutes or moments later he was startled by the clap of his mate’s hand on his shoulder. He leaned in to hear the words over the thundering beat of the music, but his eyes were still on the blonde. ‘I’m going.’

‘Already?’

‘It’s nearly one o’clock.’

‘What? No way.’ He looked at his watch. 12:47. Surely it was wrong. He couldn’t have been dancing for nearly two hours and not noticed. But now that he thought about it, he felt tired and somewhat dazed, though he hadn’t taken anything.

The blonde had snaked her arm about his neck. ‘Let’s go somewhere else.’ She slid her hand down to his and led him out of the club. He landed on the pavement with his ears ringing and his skin tingling where their hands touched.

‘So, your place or mine?’

She laughed, and he had a brief impression of something dark and far away. ‘I thought we’d take a walk by the river. You know? Romantic.’ She gave him a sideways glance with a seductive smile and he couldn’t say no.

She took him down to the water’s edge. He knew he should say something about how he had to work the next day ­ okay, that day ­ and had to get some sleep. But he was afraid that if he said goodbye to her now, he might never see her again.

They stopped on a deserted part of the riverfront.  The sounds of club music and pub laughter were far off in the distance. ‘Are you sure this is safe?’

‘Relax. I know what I’m doing.’ She turned to face him, wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him, and she tasted of exotic cocktails and something faint and bitter that he couldn’t quite identify. When she drew back her eyes seemed darker than he remembered. ‘Help me up.’

He lifted her onto the wide concrete wall that ran along the bank. She held out her arms and strolled along the top in her thin heels. She performed a graceful turn and started back. Halfway there one of her heels twisted beneath her. She gasped and dropped to a crouch on the wall. Once she had regained her balance she straightened and stood. His heart was thumping in his chest.

‘Did I scare you?’ she called. ‘Sorry.’ She resumed her walk. A gust of wind traveled over the water, fanning her hair across her face. She stumbled again, tried to save herself, then plunged into the water below.

His first idiotic thought was that he hadn’t asked her name, so he didn’t know who to yell for. He rushed to the wall, peering into the darkness. There was no sign of movement.

He scrambled up onto the wall and jumped in. The water was cold, and he surfaced gasping for air. He dove, searching for her, but saw only weeds and garbage. Again and again he went under. He couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t.

The pain caught him by surprise, a sudden twisting sharpness. He floated in the water, waiting for it to pass. Turning, he saw that the current had pulled him away from the bank. He started to swim back, but the pain seized him again and he went under. Spluttering, he made it back to the surface. He was tired, and the bank seemed so far away.

He tried once more to swim, but his limbs felt heavy and after a few minutes he realized he wasn’t getting any closer. He tried yelling, but there was no-one within earshot. Then the fear set in. He began splashing about, anything to try to create some movement, but he couldn’t keep it up and he couldn’t keep his head above the water. He slipped below the surface with the blood pounding in his ears and didn’t rise again.

***

She climbed onto the pontoon of a ferry stop far up the river. A group of rowdy young men were drinking nearby, but none of them noticed her. She hadn’t wanted them to.  Closing her eyes, she focused on the image she wanted to project and felt the shimmer of change rush over her.

She straightened her black velvet skirt and ran her fingers through her bobbed black hair. It was a shame, really; he had seemed nice. But orders were orders. She went where she was sent and did what she was told.

Her next appointment was in less than an hour. She walked past the young men toward the road. None of them looked up. It wasn’t their time.

Livia Belmont

Email: Livia Belmont

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