Say it with Sequins

The Complete Series

GEORGIA HILL

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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2014

Copyright © Georgia Hill 2014

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available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

entirely coincidental.

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Ebook Edition © October 2014

ISBN: 9780008113551

Version 2014-09-30

Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

For Mum, who loved to jitterbug.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

The Rumba: A Dance Full of Passion.

The Waltz: A Dance Full of Romance.

The Charleston: A Dance Full of Laughter.

Georgia Hill

About HarperImpulse

About the Publisher

The Rumba: a dance full of passion.

“The rumba is my favourite dance; it’s really sexy. It gives you a great excuse to get up close and personal with your partner!” Bob Dandry, Executive Producer and Director, Who Dares, Dances.

Step One.

“You can do this!” she said in her head.

Julia Cooper, not yet star of stage and screen, bit her lip and tried to follow her own advice – and her partner’s lead. Trouble was, when you were a novice and dancing with a monosyllabic and bad-tempered hulk of a Russian, it wasn’t easy to pick up the steps. Or should that be steppes? Julia giggled and muttered her mantra again, “Concentrate, you can do this!”

“What?” said the Russian hulk from somewhere above her. “What you say? No, Julia. Have told you. Like this!”

For the umpteenth time that day, Julia wondered just what she had got herself into. Who Dares Dances was supposed to be a fun dance competition come reality show, wasn’t it? She was supposed to be having fun!

“We’d better raise a barrel load of money to make this worth it,” she mumbled, as she was swung round so hard her neck ricked. She’d never worked so hard in her life. The charity, Pennies for Pencils, for which the show raised money, had better be grateful.

“Julia! Have told you. Like this. Concentrate!”

“That’s just what I’ve been telling myself, Jan.” Julia looked up at her partner with a bright smile. “But it doesn’t seem to be working. Can we stop now? Don’t we need to get ready for the launch party?” She made a hopeful face, which was completely lost on the Russian.

“Pah! Party!” he spat. “We must work, work, work. Have much to learn. Stand up. Chin to left. More. More! Count in head.”

“One, two, buckle my shoe,” Julia began and it sounded facetious, even to herself. But she really was exhausted. They’d been practising since eight that morning.

“One, two, three, one. two, three,” Jan inevitably corrected her in his harsh way and they stumbled round the room one more time.

Julia gritted her teeth and did her best to stand straight, hold her head at the right angle, keep her elbows up and remember her steps. Who would have thought learning how to waltz could be so hard!

***

The launch party was in full swing by the time Harri got there. Filming had overrun and he was late as usual. And, as usual, he hated it. He was a man who’d been brought up to be on time. Nowadays he seemed to be constantly chasing his rear and life was never less than hectic.

He loved fronting the children’s TV show most of the time though. In the three years he’d presented it, he’d been all around the world, had done the most incredible death defying stunts, had met and interviewed some of the most famous people in the world. He was one lucky bloke. Fizz TV had set up Red Pepper as a direct rival to Blue Peter and it was gradually getting more and more popular. Harri had thought at one time he might have a go at getting the big job – Blue Peter itself - but peculiar though it seemed to him, at thirty-one he was getting too old for the plum role. But still here he was, an ordinary guy, Harri Morgan from Swansea, who had struck lucky. He knew his looks had helped but he hoped it was more than that, he hoped he was thought of as someone with genuine talent. He’d certainly worked his way up the hard way, spending six years in the niche world of Welsh television learning his craft.

So why, if he was happy with his career, had he agreed to this? To Fizz TV’s dance show? When the suggestion had come from his agent, he’d been mildly interested, had never watched the programme but he knew of it and knew it raised millions for charity. When he’d signed up, he thought he’d treat it as another physical challenge, just like learning to fly a jet, or bungee jumping off the San Francisco Bridge. He liked learning new physical skills and it would show his mates back home in Swansea that he could dance after all.

In his heart though, he knew he’d taken this on for another reason. His life expectancy as a children’s TV presenter was running out and it was notoriously difficult to make the transition to adult TV. Producers seemed to think that if you worked with, and for, young children you had the intellect to match. Harri knew he had a lot more to offer, it was just that he didn’t know what it was or how to achieve it. The invitation to do Who Dares Dances seemed to be the answer. He could have a go at a new challenge, and get himself noticed by a completely different audience.

So far it had been, well, interesting. He’d spent four weeks in training with Eva, his Swedish professional dance partner, and it was a lot tougher than he expected. He wasn’t sure why. He could pick up the steps pretty easily, his rugby and fencing training helped with the footwork, but he just couldn’t get into it somehow. Since the cocaine fiasco on another well known children’s TV show a few years ago, the producers of Red Pepper had upped the censor code on the programme and on its presenters. They had even gone as far as forcing him to sign a ‘no personal relationships’ clause with any of the other dancers in Who Dares Dances. He’d always had to conduct any relationship with complete discretion beforehand and now he was in an even worse situation. Any whiff of scandal or smut, and he’d be summarily dismissed. He knew it had taken that infamous children’s presenter years to get his career back on track and Harri didn’t want to risk the same. So he felt uncomfortable mixing his kid’s TV persona with the blatantly erotic things Eva expected him to do.

He grabbed a drink from a passing tray and sipped the warm white wine thoughtfully. He grimaced, it didn’t do the job like a pint of Brains bitter but it would help him unwind. He didn’t seem to have the time to catch his breath nowadays. Was he getting old? Was he losing the hunger for all of this? He hoped not. He didn’t know what else he could do.

***

Julia spotted Harri come in from the corner of her eye. Half listening to what a fellow competitor was saying, she saw him making his way around the edge of the party. She liked the way his nose crinkled up as he tasted the wine – it was vile – and then she watched as he got into an animated conversation with Callum, the enormous Scottish prop forward. Talking about rugby no doubt – or trashing England. Funny how the Welsh and the Scots had those two things in common.

She giggled. The wine may taste foul but she’d hardly eaten anything all day and it was going to her head. She put her half-empty glass down on the table behind her.

“Revolting isn’t it?” Fellow actress, Lavinia Smart, sidled up to her and did the same. “You can tell it’s not the beeb, can’t you? These new TV channels just don’t seem to get things quite right. I can’t wait to see what excuse they’ll serve as food! But darling, tell me, how’s your gorgeous man of a partner?”

Julia thought about Jan the professional dance partner she’d been assigned. If only she had had a choice! He was tall, impossibly fit, blonde and beautiful, she admitted that much. He was also a terrible bully. “He’s lovely,” she said finally, “but I’ve never worked so hard in my life. I ache in places I never knew existed!”

“Oh darling, I’m the same. Warren is a darling, an absolute hoot but can you imagine, at my age? Any minute during training, I swear it’s all going to drop off – or out.”

Julia laughed. Lavinia was the oldest in the group of competitors by far. She claimed to be thirty-nine but was probably closer to sixty. Julia had seen her in films dating from way back. She’d assumed the role of mother hen over them all and did things strictly her way – didn’t rehearse before eleven, broke for a two-hour lunch at one and finished on the dot of four. Her dancing partner Warren, a little man from Stoke-on-Trent and as ordinary as Lavinia was exotic, despaired. He’d won the competition last year and had been hoping to do what had never been achieved before – two successive wins. Julia thought his chances this year with Lavinia were remote to say the least.

She turned to the older woman: “The competition is pretty fierce this year isn’t it?”

In an automatic gesture, Lavinia captured another glass of wine off a waiter, took a sip and called him back.

He came immediately, people tended to do as Lavinia said, Julia noticed. She had that bitchy, middle class, actressy quality that was thankfully rare in the profession nowadays.

“Another one for my friend if I may,” Lavinia ordered. She passed the glass to Julia. “There darling, this one must be a new bottle, same wine but at least it’s so cold you can’t taste it! What were you saying?”

“That the competition is tough. Who do you think is going to win?”

“Well my angel, I know who desperately wants to win.” Lavinia smirked and nodded to where eighteen year old model and aspiring actress, Casey, was batting her enormous false eyelashes at Harri. Someone had tacked up a bedraggled sprig of mistletoe as an early nod to Christmas and Casey had half an eye on it.

The poor man was trapped. He was visibly backing off from the torrent of giggles and nonsense that passed as conversation from the girl.

“Met her type before,” Lavinia sniffed. “God, I think I was her once a long time ago. All hair and short skirts and dangerous ambition. When you’re older you learn how to hide it better.”

“What, stupidity?” Julia said, without thinking.

Lavinia snorted. “She’s not stupid, she’ll go far. No, you learn how to play the game with a little more finesse, a little more decorum.” Lavinia’s eyebrows rose. “Look at the length of that skirt!”

Julia laughed again, Lavinia was always good company. “I’d wear skirts like that if I had the legs.”

“Keep training as we’ve been doing and you will, darling. Have you ever met a chubby dancer?”

Julia tried not to bridle at the inference that she was fat, she’d lost a stone and a half already. She’d been consoling herself with the thought that if this TV show didn’t revive her flagging acting career, at least she’d have a fit and toned body at the end of it.

Lavinia eyed her closely. “I know why Casey’s doing it,” she said, as they watched the girl run her fingers up an alarmed Harri’s arm, “but why did you get involved in this farce, angel? I thought you were legit theatre?”

Julia shrugged. “I am, when I can get it. In between the funding crisis and all these big name American TV stars coming over and getting the plum roles, I seem to have hit a dry spot.”

“It was ever thus.” Lavinia gave a theatrical sigh. “Are you hoping it’ll get your face known on the box, darling?”

Julia nodded. “And it raises money for a good cause.”

“Ah yes, the charity.” Lavinia smiled. “Never harms one’s profile to be seen doing something good for charity.”

Julia was silent for a moment. Lavinia had misunderstood her but she let it go. It hadn’t quite been what she’d meant. She needed some publicity, it was true, but didn’t want to support the charity simply in a cynical bid to get it. She really believed in the cause.

They all forgot why they were really here sometimes. The children’s charity, Pennies for Pencils, raised money and awareness for a range of education projects, in the UK and abroad. This was really why they were all still in the studio, after a long day’s rehearsal, supposedly mingling and getting to know one another better.

Lavinia trilled goodbye, wandered off and left the younger woman alone. Julia watched the crowd. She enjoyed people watching; she loved to see how people moved, how they related to one another.

The show was only a week old, they’d done the pre-practice rehearsals and were about to film the first programme before a live studio audience.

On the eve of filming, the producers had brought everyone together tonight as an icebreaker. Lavinia was now talking to Daniel Cunningham, Casey’s stunning professional dance partner and Ted, another actor, and a recent refugee from Eastenders. He was a nice man thought Julia and he deserved to do well. But, as everyone knew, nice didn’t count for much in the acting business.

Julia watched as Casey, having given up on Harri, was flirting with Callum instead. In contrast to the younger man, he seemed to be taking Casey in his stride. One large hand was fondling her naked back. As she was wearing a criminally low halter-top, access to naked flesh was made easy. Casey never seemed to wear many clothes and Callum’s hairy hand was inching its way to her barely concealed bottom. He was edging her nearer the mistletoe and she didn’t look at all unhappy to be led. The girl had better watch out, thought Julia. Rumour had it that Callum was unhappily married and on the lookout. Julia had already fended off his inebriated advances earlier in the evening.

Harri looked across at Julia and caught her eye. He smiled in his friendly way and made his way over to her. “Thought I’d leave them to it,” he grinned.

“Um, yes, they certainly seem to be getting on well.” Julia averted her eyes as Callum’s hand found its target and squeezed.

She turned back to Harri. He’d been dwarfed by Callum, but away from the rugby player’s bulk, she could see he was actually quite tall in his own right.

Julia had never seen Red Pepper but her twelve-year-old niece was crazy about it and mainly because of this man. She could see the attraction. He’d been blessed with the unthreatening good looks of the boy next door, a warm smile, and dark hair, fashionably gelled up at the front.

Looking closer though, Julia saw the broken nose of a sportsman and high cheekbones, which any actor would happily die for. He had beautifully shaped expressive eyebrows too.

On the surface he appeared to be Harri Morgan, TV presenter with a reputation for being a daredevil, a laugh a minute and game for anything. Underneath, Julia thought she sensed a reserved, rather shy man. He had something more complicated in his soul and she was intrigued.

At the moment, however, it seemed Harri’s thoughts were centred on the simple things in life. “God, this wine’s terrible!” He looked around him longingly. “What I wouldn’t do for a pint.”

“I know what you mean.” She laughed up at him and was mesmerised for a second by the intensity in his warm dark eyes.

The moment was interrupted by Bob Dandry, the executive producer and director of the show, tapping his glass.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming and welcome to the wonderful world of Who Dares Dances. I know you’re going to have a truly marvellous time tonight getting to know your fellow competitors but just before the food is served I’d like to say a few words.”

Julia groaned and Harri leaned closer. “I know, anyone who says a few words usually means the exact opposite. Do you think we can escape? I know a good pub just over the road.”

Julia giggled and shushed him and turned to listen. Bob droned on about it being a fantastic show that drew in an audience of over two million and had raised, in its six year run, nearly thirty million pounds. There was applause at this point and Bob put out his hands in a gesture of mock humility. “No, no please. We do all we can for Pennies for Pencils. I’m sure you’ll agree it’s a worthy cause.” He smoothed a strand of ginger hair over his bald spot and smiled greasily.

“Not to mention that it boosts one or two careers,” Harri whispered in her ear, his Welsh accent smooth and seductive. She stifled another giggle and elbowed him in the ribs.

“Ow!” He rubbed the offended part in pretend outrage and a few heads turned their way with interest. Anything was better than Bob’s speech.

But then the producer said something which caught everyone’s attention. “As you know, we try to keep the show fresh, to keep the audience interested and voting - and raising money of course. And we need to keep our image separate from that other little dance show on TV.”

Julia caught Lavinia’s eye and they grinned at one another. ‘That other little dance show’ was the riotously popular BBC Strictly Come Dancing. The elephant in the room, Lord Voldemort, never to be named in the studios of Who Dares Dances.

“So we’re proposing,” continued Bob, “that, just for one dance when we come back for the Christmas special, to put two competitors together. This means that two non dancers will dance with one another.

At the ripple of shock Bob put out his hands again placatingly. “You will be coached by your professional dancers of course and it’s just a bit of fun.”

Fun. There was that word again. What fun? wondered Julia. I’m having enough trouble dancing with Jan, let alone someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing!

Everyone else appeared to be having similar thoughts as a buzz of panicked chatter rose around the room.

“I’ll let you know your partners now,” Bob ploughed on, “so you can make arrangements for rehearsals. Remember it’s in only seven weeks so time is of the essence!”

“Uffern dan!” Julia heard from Harri, all his boyish twinkly humour gone.

She closed her eyes and whispered a little prayer. “Please don’t let my partner be Callum. Please don’t let it be Callum!” She wasn’t sure she could put up with his groping for the next seven weeks and there was something about his huge oafishness that was very off-putting. “I’ll do most things for charity but not that.”

“Sorry?” Harri leaned a little closer, to hear better over the noise in the room.

Julia blinked, she hadn’t realised she’d said it out loud. “I said I didn’t know this was in the contract.”

“It wasn’t, but there were rumours they had something up their sleeve for this year. I just hope I don’t get -”

She never heard who Harri didn’t want as a partner as Bob began to read out the new non professional dancing partnerships. “Lavinia, you’ll be partnered with Sam.”

Julia looked over to where Lavinia stood with Charlie and Carol the presenters of the show. Sam was a Liverpudlian comedian known for his coarse humour. Lavinia didn’t look happy.

“Casey, you’ll be partnered with Ted.” Casey looked equally displeased.

“Callum, you’ll be with Suni.”

Julia felt a pang of sympathy for Suni, an elegant celebrity TV cook and then heaved a sigh of relief as she realised she’d been spared Callum’s groping fingers. She was so busy being relieved that she missed the next few announcements.

“And finally, as I’m sure you’ll have worked out by now, the last two celebrities not allocated partners are Julia and Harri.” Bob beamed at them. “So they will be dancing together. That’s all. Have a wonderful evening. Any questions address them to Maria, my assistant. And, don’t forget – who dares dances!” With this, Bob hurried from the studio.

Coward, thought Julia. Drop the bombshell and run off. She turned to look at Harri. “Well, not too bad for us I suppose?” She looked questioningly up at him.

“I think we’ll work together alright won’t we? But whether we’ll be able to dance mind, that’s another story.” He winked, his humour obviously restored.

To Julia’s pleasure, he sounded relieved. She could do a lot worse than spend time with this man she thought.

“Like some food?” he asked her cheerfully. “I’m going to get some, I’m starving, been filming all day, see.”

She nodded and watched him as he made his way over to the table where a buffet was being laid. He had a good pair of shoulders and a neat set of hips. And his bottom was, well quite frankly, it was gorgeous. Yes, she could do a lot worse.

Step Two.

They were all back in the studio the following day. It was show day and last minute dress rehearsals had begun at nine, except for Lavinia who showed up two hours later much to the annoyance of Warren. Julia had left the party early with Harri; they’d shared a cab home, as he lived not far from her in north London. They agreed they’d both had a long day and wanted to call it a night.

And now, thought Julia, it all starts in earnest. She looked around the studio – the same room that they had partied in last night. All remnants of the party had disappeared and there was workmanlike mood this morning. It reminded her of her days in the theatre, of dress rehearsals, of the buzzy adrenalin-filled quality of the atmosphere.

She was nervous but excited. She and Jan were going to dance a waltz and she was pleased it was a reasonably simple routine. She’d found it hard to memorise the steps and was completely reliant on Jan leading her round. He did so with barely concealed Russian impatience, swearing quietly whenever she did something wrong - which was often. He scared her a little. She worked best with encouragement and praise and his arrogant bullying wasn’t making for an ideal partnership.

She watched enviously as Daniel and Casey cruised round the floor in an American smooth. Daniel Cunningham was as tall and as good lookingly blonde as Jan but was much kinder and encouraging and, as a result, Casey was already dancing with impressive skill.

“They’re good aren’t they?” a Welsh voice whispered in her ear.

She turned and smiled at Harri. “They are. Do you think they’ll win?”

He shrugged. “They might. But my money’s on Scott and Suni.” He nodded to where the couple were trying out some of the moves to their quickstep. “Scott’s determined to win, He’s incredibly competitive and Suni is ….” he trailed off as he looked at them.

“So graceful,” she finished for him. “Yes, she is isn’t she?” Julia blew out a breath.

“Something wrong?”

“Just wondering what I’m doing here, that’s all. I’ve discovered I’ve got two left feet.”

Harri grinned. “Not from where I was watching. You and Jan look great together.”

“Only because he’s lugging me round. Still at least the long dress will cover any wrong steps! It’s got so many feathers sewn onto it you can’t actually see me.”

“Wish I had the same sort of costume,” Harri laughed. “Poor Eva’s given up on me ever being able to move my hips.”

“You’ve got a hard dance to start with, haven’t you? I wouldn’t fancy doing the salsa so early on in the competition.” Julia made a sympathetic face.

“Yup, Eva’s one hell of a taskmaster. Bullied me into submission so I agreed to do it. But if I go wrong I can at least make a bit up, it’s not as technical as their dance.” He gestured again to Suni and Scott.

“Agreed. Jan’s the same, a terrific bully.” She sighed.

“I suppose that’s what it takes to get to the top of their field. Total dedication and one hundred percent competitiveness.” Harri regarded her thoughtfully.

“Yes, but he could be nicer about it … oh hello Jan!” she said brightly as the man in question came up to them.

“No time,” he wagged a finger at them, “no time for gossip. We work. Now!” He snatched at Julia’s hand and marched her to the dance floor.

Harri watched her go and raised a hand as she pulled a silly face back at him. He liked her. He’d seen her on stage last year and had liked her ever since.

She’d been brilliant. It was the first night of a Noel Coward play and she was brittle and arch and poignant, all the things that Coward demanded. He was relieved, when he met her briefly at the after show party, that she was none of those things in real life. She was actually funny and self deprecating and quite shy.

They’d chatted and then he was dragged off to another party. He left reluctantly; he’d enjoyed talking to her.

Now, as he watched her being swung smoothly round the dance floor by her Russian giant of a partner, he decided he really liked her. He had little time for a personal life and the producers of Red Pepper were always on the lookout for scandal so he had to be extremely circumspect. That’s why he backed off whenever Casey came near, gorgeous though she was, her body clearly displayed in clothes that were too tight or slipped off revealing lots of naked flesh. He knew women like Casey were big trouble. One night and she’d be rushing to the papers with the story. His career wouldn’t withstand that, Fizz TV had made it more than clear that if there were any sex or drugs stories, he’d be out. One glance at Casey and all those things were on the cards. But Julia, now she was a different woman. She was easy to get along with. Attractive too, with her mane of black hair and those flashing green eyes. He felt himself stirring. God, he really liked her. The irritating ‘no relationships’ clause niggled at the back of his mind. It was too frustrating. He’d have to be careful. No rushing into anything.

“Larry!” It was Eva, her Swedish accent could never quite master his Welsh name.

“It’s Harri,” he muttered under his breath and then pinned a cheery smile on his face as he turned to his professional dance partner. His coach. His nemesis.

“We will work now, I think. Come. And Larry, hold me like a man this time please.”

Harri gritted his teeth and got into position. With any luck, he’d be so dire they’d be voted off in the first show. Then he wouldn’t have to put up with this termagant any longer. But he didn’t really mean it; already the old competitiveness, a relic from his college rugby playing days, had taken hold. He was in it to win it, he decided as he was steered round the floor by the determined arms of his partner.

“No Larry, take the lead! Hold me like you mean it!”

***

Before she knew it, Julia had completed her waltz to subdued applause from the audience and was standing in front of the judges, waiting for their comments. Her heart sank; she could see from Jan’s rigid shoulders that he wasn’t pleased with her performance.

Arthur, the senior judge, was first to comment. He had a reputation for being straight-talking but kind. “Well you had a good attempt, you sell the dance well but you were letting Jan do all the hard work. You need to something about raising your ribcage and your neckline is dreadful. Not a bad effort, work on those things and you’ll get better.”

Not that bad, Julia thought cautiously.

But the others were much harsher, even cruel. Her timing was out, her footwork was bad and they repeated Arthur’s criticism about her poor posture. Jan dropped her hand as soon as they left the main studio and went to the back room for the results. He was a silent mountain of disappointment. The scores were disappointing too – a paltry ten in total and they were in penultimate place at the bottom of the leader board, with –inexplicably - Suni and Scott taking the other last place.

“Don’t worry,” said Harri as he went past to get ready for his dance; he was up next. He squeezed her arm quickly and then left.

Jan stormed off in search of water, muttering Russian curses. Julia went to sit on the sofa with the others and got her breath back.

“Well, I thought it was fine,” said Suni. “In fact, it looked really good from back here.” She patted Julia’s arm kindly.

Julia, her breathing back to normal, watched on the TV monitor as Harri entered the studio to rapturous applause; he was the show’s favourite and, despite what he’d said about Suni, was tipped to win. His salsa, however, was a bit flat. According to the judges, he hadn’t made a connection with his partner and there was no charisma between them. Julia wondered about their sanity, it looked perfect from where she was watching. He and Eva came backstage to wait for their results and Harri quirked an eyebrow at Julia making her laugh. He really was one gorgeous man.

“The results are in!” screamed Carol, trying to get some excitement going within the audience. “Seven, seven and an eight! That makes a total of …” she paused, obviously unable to work it out, “twenty two! Our highest score this evening. Well Harri, although the judges’ comments were critical they’ve scored you well. How do you feel?”

Her voice whined on and she kept touching Harri, Julia noticed, on his arm, on his shoulder, on his back, quite low down on his back in fact, near that well shaped and neat behind. Obviously the man’s attractions had been noted by more than her.

And then it was all over; all they had to do was wait for the public vote and the dance off. Julia had a horrible feeling she might be in it and wasn’t sure how she felt. On the one hand, she wouldn’t have to go through the torture Jan inflicted on her for five hours a day, but it would be a shame to let go this project so soon.

They all had a short break, filled with interviews and frantically snatched gulps of water and then the dance off was announced.

To Julia’s total surprise, it was between Suni and Ted. Everyone sat in the backstage room, hunched up on the cream sofas and watched the little monitor in the corner intently. Scott and Suni danced first and, to Julia’s mind, brilliantly. Suni was as graceful and as elegant as ever. The judges pronounced her the winner after Ted had stumbled through his routine and they voted him off.

“Jeez, just goes to prove none of us is safe doesn’t it?” Harri said in a shocked voice. He gave Julia a swift, hard hug, which sent shockwaves of desire straight through her. Then he got yanked to his feet by Eva, to return to the floor for the finale.

It was exhausting, Julia thought. Was she really going to have to do this all again next Saturday? She wasn’t sure she had the mental or physical energy. She went up to Ted and his partner Alicia and muttered her condolences. As she looked over, to where Casey was congratulating herself on staying in and where Callum had found enough alcohol to begin the night’s partying early, she thought the wrong people had been sent home.

Step Three.

The following Tuesday was earmarked for a quick run through of the dance she and Harri were to perform in the Christmas special. It seemed crazy to Julia that they were practising it when she hadn’t even got the hang of the steps for the dance she and Jan were going to do this Saturday. Jan had been a nightmare the day before and, if it hadn’t have been for the cameras watching their every move, Julia would have retaliated.

A smiling Harri arrived with a determined Eva in tow. “They’ve picked the dances out of the hat and we’ve got the rumba,” he said with a grin. “The dance of passion!”

Oh Christ, thought Julia, it’s getting worse. Now I’ve got to make out that I’m in love with the man. Well, she consoled herself, at least he’s easy on the eye, so it might not be all that difficult. He was certainly looking good this morning; fresh and relaxed in dark jeans and a navy t-shirt. Julia gazed down at herself. Jan had called an early rehearsal and they’d already been hard at it for two hours. She was hot and sweaty and definitely did not look her best. She looked over at Eva, in all her blonde coolness, and blew out a frustrated breath. But it was no good, she realised, she would never be like her. She was a completely different body shape for a start. Where Julia was curvy, Eva was tiny, with a waist that was hardly there. And in contrast to Julia’s generously sized eyes and mouth, Eva had narrow, refined features. The huge mirrors, which lined every wall in the dance studio Jan preferred to use, accentuated any comparison. They cruelly pointed out the differences between the two women.

Julia gritted her teeth and spent the time waiting for Eva and Harri to warm up by nipping out and freshening herself up as best she could. Feeling a little better, she ventured back into the studio.

Eva clapped her hands. “Now we start!”

And so they did.

Thirty minutes later and Julia was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. She liked Harri, no correction; she really liked him, certainly much more than Jan. She felt far more relaxed with him than with her pro-dancer partner but this was too much. Some of the moves Jan and Eva had choreographed were incredibly intimate. Far too intimate for two people who had only met a few times and were just casual friends. And it was very apparent that Harri was having similar misgivings.

“Not so!” barked Jan at Harri. “Put your hand on her breast bone and stroke like so. It is the dance of love. Make love to her!”

“I’ve never felt less like making love to anyone,” Harri muttered to Julia. “No offence.”

Julia scrunched up her eyes, she couldn’t bear to look; she could feel Harri’s embarrassment from here. Her t-shirt was sticking sweatily to her back where his arm was holding her and she was mortified that he had to do this.

“Bend back more, Julia! Arch over. More!” Eva demanded.

Julia tried her best but only succeeded in straining Harri’s strength too far and fell to the floor.

“Are you all right?” he asked and bent over her in concern.

“Tsk!” Jan exclaimed and strode off in yet another Russian temper.

“Please tell me why we ever lowered the iron curtain and warmed up the cold front?” said Julia to Harri as he helped her to her feet. She covered her embarrassment by straightening her rucked up t-shirt and smoothing her hair.

“We finish for break now. Ten minutes only!” Eva snarled and banged out behind Jan.

Harri looked at Julia, one brow quirked in humour. “And the Swedish were always supposed to be our allies. Come on,” he said as he took her arm. “I’ll buy you a nice coffee from the vending machine.”

“What, the one where it tastes like Bovril?”

“That’s the one,” he said flippantly.

“You know how to treat a woman.”

“Only the best for you, cariad,” he replied and Julia grinned at the unfamiliar Welsh word. “And, if you’re really lucky, I might even get you a mince-pie; the canteen have just started selling them.”

“Be still my beating heart!” Julia laughed and realised her heart was pumping fast – and it was nothing to do with the promise of a Christmassy sugar rush.

Step Four.

The week continued in much the same vein. They had one more rehearsal of their rumba together which was equally disastrous and then Jan and Eva declared that they must all concentrate on the dances for the next show.

Jan had chosen wisely again. He and Julia were to dance the American smooth, which meant that Julia could safely rely on him to lead her. There was a tricky moment when she was out of hold but Jan had choreographed most of the dance so that he could control her every move. She needed it; she was still finding it incredibly difficult. She could now master the steps but when it came to adding in all the other details like her head hold or her arm shape, then it all went wrong. And then Jan dropped his bomb shell.

“We will do lift!” he declared and proceeded to show her.

“He wants to lift me up and swing me round then hold me on his shoulder!” she bleated a little desperately, to Harri as they shared a pizza after Thursday’s rehearsal. “And he goes and tries to put it into the routine today. We’ve only got two more days to practise!”

“Seriously?” Harri raised his eyebrows in shock. “Well, don’t do it unless you feel confident enough. He’s a tall bloke.”

“Tell me about it. He got me up there for the first time this morning and it’s like being hoisted onboard a giraffe!”

“How tall is he?”

“I don’t know. Six three, six four? Whatever, it feels bloody scary, I can tell you.”

“Well, don’t worry. He’s one of the world’s best dancers; He’s not going to drop you.” Harri smiled at her comfortingly.

“He’d better not! I’d break my neck. Are they paying us danger money for this?”

Harri laughed and took another slice of pepperoni, holding the stringy cheese up to his mouth.

Julia watched him as he ate and something warm inside her unfurled. He was nice she thought. Easy company, a great sense of humour and - nice. She relaxed a little and looked around her.

The restaurant they’d ended up in was buzzing with office workers getting early into the Christmas spirit. To their immediate left was a party of twelve, bedecked in ribbons of tinsel and paper hats and looking red-cheeked with high spirits. A soundtrack of cheesy Christmas hits played in the background. London was well and truly gearing itself up for the festive season.

“I’ve never been so hungry,” Harri said through a mouthful, as Slade’s Merry Xmas Everybody blasted out. “I’m eating like a horse and I’ve lost half a stone already!”

Julia looked at him, at his broad shoulders and well shaped arms with their subtle muscles. “You don’t look as if you need to lose any.”

“I don’t, that’s the problem. Eva’s a bloody tyrant. She’s got me rehearsing five or six hours at a time.” He flexed an impressive bicep and grinned. “Mind, I’ve never been in better shape. Reckon I’m about as fit as I’ve ever been. What about you?”

“Well, I tried to get fitter before all this started and I certainly needed to lose some weight.” Julia picked at a cheesy crust and nibbled.

“No, you didn’t,” Harri interrupted. “I like my women with a bit of flesh on them. Can’t stand Eva’s skinny bits.” He shuddered visibly.

Julia preened a little; she quite liked the idea of being one of Harri’s women. “No, I really needed to lose some. I wasn’t getting any parts.” She looked up at him to see he was watching her closely. “Mine’s a cruel profession. No room for the fatties.”

Harri put his hand on hers. It was slightly greasy from his pizza but she didn’t mind. His dark eyes burned into hers but all he said was, “You’ll do.”

As compliments went, it wasn’t the most effusive Julia had ever received but the warm glow inside her spread and she blushed hotly.

“So, what’s next for you?” Harri picked up his tumbler of water and emptied it in one swallow.

He was a man of hearty appetites Julia thought and, watching him, the question of what he’d be like in bed pinged into her head. Blushing yet more, she tried to concentrate on her answer. “There are - erm - one or two things in the pipeline,” she said carefully.

“Things that bad, eh?”

From anyone else the comment would have grated but Harri’s cheerful sympathy just made her feel better. She nodded. “That bad.”

“I loved you in Still Life.”

Julia smiled. “It was a great production, a great team. But the run was cut short. No money left. And no angel stepped in.”

For a minute Harri thought she was talking literally and then realised what she meant. “Oh, you mean a backer. So, have you really got nothing lined up then?”

“There’s a possibility … but it’s only a slight possibility so I’d like you to keep it under your hat at the moment, that I might get Cabaret.”

Harri sat up, his eyes shone as a grin spread over his face. “Sally Bowles? At the Endcott?”

“Maybe.” She saw his grin widen. He had a lovely smile, she thought, it lit up his entire face and then reached his eyes so that they almost disappeared. Such a charming man. She shook out any carnal thoughts which persisted in pre-occupying her, and got back to the more mundane subject of her career. “They saw I was going to be in this and mentioned they might audition me.”

“So you’ve got a lot riding on Who Dares Dances then?”

Julia shrugged. “Yes, I suppose so.” She finished her glass of wine, she shouldn’t drink midweek really, it stopped her from sleeping but she really needed to unwind after the latest session with Jan.

“Another?” Harri asked and, at her nod, summoned the waitress. “A house red and I’ll have a Becks please,” he said when the girl came over.

“Are you, are you Harri Morgan?” The girl, a younger waitress than the one who had served their meal, gasped and pushed back her felt reindeer antlers. “Oh my God, oh my God! I can’t believe it. Is it really you?”

“I was the last time I looked,” Harri said cheerfully.

“Could I … would you mind, could I have your autograph? I love Red Pepper. Oh I know I’m too old for it,” she chattered on as Harri took note of her tinselled name badge and signed a paper napkin for her, “but my younger sister got me into it and now I always watch it when I’m on lates.” She giggled and blushed bright red.

Julia smiled to herself, and thought the attraction of the programme probably wasn’t just how to learn to use sticky backed plastic.

“There you go then,” Harri handed over the serviette. “Would you like me to do one for your sister too?”

“Oh, would you? Thank you!”

Harri reached for another napkin. “What’s her name?”

“Debs,” the waitress squealed. “Wait ‘til I tell her who’s been in!” She turned to Julia: “Course, we get loads of celebs in here, it being so near the TV studios and everything but Harri’s the only one whose autograph I’ve wanted.” She did a double take and looked at Julia more closely. “Oh hell, you’re, you’re -”

“Julia Cooper,” Julia supplied.

The waitress looked from one to the other. “You’re both doing Who Dares Dances aren’t you?”

“That’s right.” Harri, his voice even and controlled, handed over the other serviette. “And that would be a Becks and a glass of house red please, Abi.”

The waitress took another long look at both of them and Julia wondered what was going through her mind. Then she took the hint, nodded and went off to get their drinks.

Julia giggled slightly. This sort of fame was new to her. Apart from a few hardy souls who waited at the stage door for her, she could get through ordinary life unencumbered by such encounters. She was intrigued by how Harri had handled it. “Does that happen often to you?”

Harri raised his dark eyebrows and grimaced. “Not too much when I’m not expecting it, like tonight. It’s different if you’re visiting somewhere, a school or a lifeboat station. Then you get yourself geared up for it.”

“Do you mind?”

He frowned. “No, comes with the territory, doesn’t it? It doesn’t get to me unless they get a bit over the top. One night a girl sat down at the table with us. Wouldn’t have minded but it was a family meal out for my mam’s birthday, see.” He winced. “Not the most tactful thing to do.”

Julia laughed in sympathy and agreed. She lapsed into silence as Abi returned and, with infinite care, served their drinks and left. Then she asked him “So what’s in this for you? Who Dares Dances, I mean.”

Harri glanced at her over the rim of his bottle, took a long gulp, considered her question and finally answered. “What do children’s TV presenters do when they’re too old to jump out of helicopters and make pencil pots out of loo rolls?”

Julia giggled again. “I don’t know.”

“God, they end up presenting naff ghost hunting shows or sail around the Med on their yacht or disappear onto a digital radio station.”

“And none of that is for you?”

Harri shook his head. “No,” he said. “I know what I don’t want but I’m thirty two next year, I’m getting a bit past it for kids’ TV. So what do I do next?”

Julia shrugged.

“Exactly. What I’m hoping for is that I’ll get some kind of offer come in, something to broaden my career, something exciting. And,” at this he grinned again, “at least I’ll have the satisfaction of learning a brand new skill and raising some money at the same time.”

“Ah yes, the money, somehow we all forget that don’t we.” Julia grinned back at him and raised her glass. “To the charity Pennies for Pencils, then. May it prosper from our bumps, humiliations and bruises!”

Harri laughed out loud and clinked his beer bottle against her glass. “To Pennies for Pencils!”

Their quick meal over, they left the Christmas revellers to it and wandered out into the icy night. It had become chilly over the last few days and now the air sparkled with their frosty breath. Julia hugged herself; she loved this time of year. There was something truly magical about it, despite the cheap tinsel and clichéd pop songs.

Harri raised his hand and, almost immediately, a taxi did a neat U-turn and drew up at the kerb. He looked down at Julia, the flashing Christmas lights from the restaurant turning his face alternatively red then white. It made reading his expression difficult.

“Goodnight then, Julia, cariad.” He seemed awkward suddenly.

“Night night, Harri.” She reached up and kissed his slightly stubbly and very warm cheek. As she did so, he moved and his mouth came to within a whisper of touching hers. But, too soon, it was gone. A cold space replaced the fuzzy feeling Julia had enjoyed all evening.

“See you tomorrow then, Harri,” she called, disappointed that he hadn’t kissed her properly. She got into the cab and looked back for him but he’d already disappeared into the neon coloured night.

Step Five.

Julia allowed herself to be led to her mark to receive the verdict from the judges. She could tell yet again that Jan wasn’t pleased, his smile was forced and the arm he held around her was like banded steel – so tense was he with anger.

It was the third show. Julia had scraped through - somehow - without ending up in the dance off but her points had been consistently low. That she was still in the competition was as big a mystery to her as it patently was to the judges. But, for some reason, the public kept ringing in and still wanted her there, fighting her corner and staying in to dance another day.

As if in slow motion she saw Kevin, the most outspoken of the judges, open his mouth. Oh God, she thought, here comes another stream of abuse. Over the weeks, Kevin had reserved his cruellest, most cutting comments especially for her.

“Well, darling,” began Kevin. “You always entertain us, there can be no doubt of that but whether you can dance is another matter.” A cheer went up around the studio at his first comment and boos followed his second. Kevin looked scornfully around him, his disdain for the audience was well known. “Let me finish, please.” He fixed his pale eyes back on Julia and she braced herself. “Julia dear, your posture is still dreadful despite this being the third week of the competition and we’re nearly halfway through, your footwork is appalling and you’re still letting Jan do all the work. On this performance I don’t think you should go through to the next round, I really don’t, darling.”

At this, the audience actually hissed him. It was almost like a pantomime, thought Julia hazily, as Jan’s arm tightened its hold.

Sonya, the sole female judge and the most venomous, piped up through the audience’s booing. “I agree Kevin, it’s week three now and we should be seeing some improvement but each week you’ve come out, Julia, and trotted out the same old stuff. And it’s getting boring. You must listen to Jan; sort out your upper body and neckline and work, work, work on your feet.”

Julia was tired, she and Jan had put in over seven hours training each day that week and she was exhausted. She felt her throat thicken and tears caught at her. This was ridiculous she thought and tried to hide her reaction but it was too late; her shoulders began to shake and tears ran down her cheeks making a trail through the thick stage make up. The audience, scenting blood, quietened. Charlie the compere made an aaahing sound and said something like, “There there,” and then Jan dragged her off the dance floor. When they got to the back room he refused to wait for their scores and left Julia standing in front of Carol alone. Suni thrust a tissue into Julia’s hand.

Carol wasn’t quite sure what to say and stuttered a little until she got a prompt through her ear piece. “And now, after those shocking words from the judges, how do you feel?”

The fatuous question had what was left of Julia’s rational brain dissolving and she broke down completely. Someone tallish and solid took her in his arms and led her away from the cameras. She vaguely heard Carol flapping in the distance as she tried to fill the air time.

Strong arms held her and a soft voice whispered: “Don’t take on so, cariad bach, it’s not worth it.” As her sobs really began to take hold Harri took her through the doors, well away from any prying cameras which may have followed them and into the chilly corridor. He was now swearing quietly in Welsh – or at least that’s what Julia assumed he was doing, there was real vitriol in the tone of his voice which suggested anger.

He took her outside, to the courtyard in the middle of the television studios. There was a low wall which bordered a small garden and Harri led Julia to it. He sat with his arms tight around her until her sobs lessened and she was calmer.

Julia blew her nose into the tissue Suni had given her. “Sorry.”

“Uffern dan! What the hell for?” his accent sounded stronger and his voice was still full of anger.

“I’m such an idiot to break down like that. God, I must look like a mess.”

“You’re fine and it wasn’t idiotic. They really slammed into you back there. I could’ve punched Kevin.” Harri’s hand fisted.

Julia laughed, a little tremulously, but it was a laugh at least. “Thanks for coming to my aid. I really don’t think I could’ve coped with Carol or Jan …” she trailed off; the thought of having to face Jan was horrible. “God, I’ve really messed it up haven’t I?”

“What, by crying?”

“No, by showing I couldn’t cope with the stress.” Julia added mournfully, “I can’t see Cabaret coming my way now.”

“Don’t be so sure, cariad; in the face of what Jan’s made you do, they may see it as gritty determination. And as for the crying bit I think you’ll get the sympathy vote.”

“I don’t want the sympathy vote!”

“Do you want to stay in the competition?”

Julia thought about it. In some strange and possibly masochistic way, she did want to stay in the competition - if only to torture Jan. But she’d really like to prove to herself and the viewers that she could improve; that she could put two feet in front of one another without falling over. “Yes,” she said, in a determined voice. “Yes, I do want to stay in.”

“Well, there you go then. I think the viewers are seeing straight through Mr Moscow and can see how evil he’s being and are voting for you.”

“It’s twisted!”

Harri laughed. “It’s showbiz! Ready to go back?” He looked at her, concern in his dark eyes.

Julia took a deep breath and gave him a wobbly smile. She nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Bring it on!”

“That’s my girl.” He stood up and held out a hand. As he did so, a solitary snowflake fell from the cold dark sky.

“It’s snowing. Oh, it makes me feel so Christmassy!!” Julia exclaimed, with all the wonder of a small child. “It’s not often you get to see snow in the middle of London.”

Harri looked up and followed the passage of another snowflake, making its way to the concrete. “It is indeed.” He grinned. “It’s a good omen for you!”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

Julia put out her tongue. She closed her eyes and reached her face up into the night.

Harri gazed at her and at the vision of her pink tongue held out in the hope of catching a snowflake. He moved towards her, without thinking and then stopped. He longed to capture that tongue with his own, to twist it with his and make it hot. For the first time in his life, he wished he were an ordinary bloke with an ordinary job and one who could simply make the next move. And not somebody with this ridiculous clause hanging over him.

Julia opened her eyes and caught him staring.

“Oh Harri. This is amazing. You’re amazing!” She flung her arms round him, her mood obviously restored.

For a long second, he returned the embrace and then disentangled himself. “Oh, I’m bloody amazing, cariad. Now, go back in, it’s freezing out here.”

Julia blew him a kiss and ran back into the television studios.

As he watched her go, he knew he couldn’t risk making a move. Not yet. He had to be one hundred percent sure. Julia didn’t seem the kiss and tell type but he couldn’t risk his entire career for what might turn out to be a one-night stand. He just couldn’t, no matter how big the temptation. And, oh boy, was he tempted. With a heavy heart, he followed her in.

Step Six.

And now it was, unbelievably, week four. And, she was still in, by the skin of her teeth. For some reason the public kept voting for her, even though the judges held nothing back and criticised her dancing remorselessly.

As Julia stood with Jan waiting to go on and do their Quickstep, her hardest dance so far, she thought it was inevitable that she would go out this week. She’d struggled all week to master the intricate and light steps and, despite putting in over seven hours training each day, was no more confident now than she’d been on Sunday when she’d begun learning.

Lavinia and Sam the comedian had followed Ted out of the competition and, while she couldn’t pretend to feel sorry for the foul-mouthed Liverpudlian, she missed Lavinia’s cheerfully diva-ish presence. The actress had become a good friend and since leaving had attended every Saturday night performance and had even dropped in on one or two of Julia’s training sessions. Warren, somewhat bitterly, had been overheard to say she’d been in the rehearsal rooms far more since she left the show than when she was in training for it.

Julia took a deep breath and tried, unsuccessfully, to calm her nerves. Her only consolation was that the quickstep wasn’t Jan’s favourite dance either. He preferred the moodier, more sensual dances. Well he would, thought Julia.

Since surviving for the first weeks, the competition had really gripped her. She’d made great friends - with Lavinia of course but had also grown very close to Erica, one of the professional dancers who, since her partner Sam had gone out, had been doing some extra coaching with Julia and Suni.

And there was Harri of course.

Despite herself, Julia let her mind drift. They’d been out a few times, when they could find the time, mostly for a quick bite after training and once to a bar where they’d got shockingly drunk on Bellinis and had piled, insensible, into a cab to north London. He was as cheerfully friendly and encouraging as he’d always been but that had been as far as it went.

One memorable evening, Harri had waved some tickets at them all. It was an invite to a club night at a famous ice-skating rink nearby. It was his producer’s birthday party, he’d explained. Did anyone want to come along? The others cried off but Julia and Daniel found themselves clambering into a taxi and speeding towards Snetterton House after rehearsals one night.

Julia couldn’t contain her excitement. She’d longed to go skating at Snetterton ever since hearing about it but had never been able to justify the exorbitantly high price. In summer, the square in front of the Queen Anne building, housed a series of fountains but, in winter, a temporary ice-rink was set up. It was the latest must-go venue in the city. And its club nights were legendary.

She jiggled about on the edge of the pull down seat and gazed out of the cab window, willing the traffic to part before them.

“What?” she said to Daniel and Harri, who were sitting opposite and openly laughing at her.

“You’re like a big kid,” Harri said, but with affection.

Turning to him, her eyes shining, she replied, “Well, I’ve never done anything like this before and I’ve heard really good things about the club nights. The music’s supposed to be fab.” She pouted a little. “I suppose you’ve done it all before.”

“Skating, yes. Not at Snetterton House though.”

“So where did you skate, then?” Daniel asked.

“In Alaska. I did it as part of filming something for Red Pepper.”

“Alaska? Wow!” Julia was impressed.

So was Daniel. “God, you’ve done some things as part of that job, haven’t you? You’re really lucky to have it.”

Harri gave him an odd look. “I am lucky. Very. I work hard, mind.”

The taxi driver put on his brakes suddenly. As the cab came to a violent halt, Julia slid neatly off her seat and landed on Harri’s lap. She flung her arms around him. Any excuse to touch him, she thought.

“Oops, sorry,” she giggled, embarrassed that Harri had had to take her full weight.

He hung onto her tightly for a second. “You alright?” he asked urgently. “Not hurt?”

Julia was content to stay where she was. “I’m fine.” For a moment, she nestled in and allowed herself to enjoy his nearness. The scratch of the rough wool of his sweater stretched over his hard muscle and the smell of soap, and his leather coat – his very Harri-scent - was intoxicating. Then she began to disentangle herself, confused, as ever, by his proximity.

“Should have worn your seat-belt, babe,” Daniel said. He bunched up nearer to the window. “Here, sit in the middle of us. It’ll be a bit of a squash but you’ll be wedged so tightly, you’ll have less of a chance to slip anywhere.”

As Julia moved reluctantly into the space he’d created, he looked out at the busy London night. “Traffic’s come to a complete stop out there, wonder why?”

A blur of two-tone and blue lights, as an ambulance squeezed past the stationary cars, answered his question.

“Hope no one’s hurt,” he added.

The cabbie turned round and slid open the privacy window. “Sorry about that,” he said, “Everyone okay back there? Bit of a hold up, accident I expect. I’ll turn round when I can and try the other way.”

Everyone assured him they were fine and, after a few minutes of silence, with the taxi still not moving, Daniel resumed the conversation.

“Yeah, I bet it is hard work,” he said to Harri. “Still, a fantastic job. Something you’d want to hang onto for a few years, I imagine. Jobs as good as that don’t come up very often in television. You wouldn’t want to lose it, I imagine.”

Julia sensed Harri shift away from her and was sorry. She’d been enjoying the warmth of the hard bulk of his thigh against hers.

“No,” she heard him say in a distant voice. “I need to hang onto the day job for a while.” Then he changed the subject as the taxi began to inch forward. “Oh good,” he said with obvious relief, “We’re finally moving.”

When they got to their destination, they pushed through the crowds to the entrance, flaunting their ‘Invite Only’ tickets. As soon as they got through security, Daniel saw someone he knew and drifted off towards the bar.

Julia stood, for a moment, taking in the atmosphere. It was beautiful and, to her mind, completely lived up to its hype. A white marquee lined three sides of the rink and, at its head, with the magnificently lit Snetterton House as a backdrop, was the most enormous Christmas tree she had ever seen. This year, it was decorated with a mass of tiny white lights and had a huge silver star at its top. It was stunning and, what’s more, she could smell the pine from here. Mingling with the aroma of mulled wine, wafting over from the bar, it spelled Christmas to her, with a capital C. Even the hard-core club anthems pounding out into the night added to the vibe.

“It’s wonderful!” she yelled to Harri, over the music, and smiled up at him.

Before he could answer, though, three or four very drunk people staggered over to them.

“Hi Trevor,” Harri said, as a tall man grabbed him in a bear hug. “Happy birthday. Sorry we’re a bit late. Traffic.”

This must be Red Pepper’s producer. Julia laughed and stood to one side as Harri disappeared into the group, who greeted him with much backslapping and raucous humour.

By the look of them all, they’d been drinking for quite some time. Harri managed eye contact with Julia and, quirking his brows, extricated himself, making the excuse that they wanted to skate while the rink wasn’t too crowded. He propelled her to one of the marquees, where they had to collect their skates.

Julia sat, trying to pull on her skating boots. “Are you sure these are the right size for me?” she complained.

“Come here.” Harri tutted in mock exasperation. He kneeled before her and helped. “How much trouble are you?” He smoothed the thin leather boot onto her ankle, his cold fingers making contact with her bare leg making her yelp.

She leaned forward so that they were nose to cold nose. “I can be as much trouble as you want,” she breathed huskily and then backtracked as she clocked his panicked expression. “On the rink, of course.”

“Of course,” Harri said, in relief. “You’ve never skated before, have you?”

“Nope.” As Julia tried to stand, she fell onto him. “Whoops. Seem to be making a habit of this tonight. I’m glad I didn’t have a drink first.” She clutched onto his sweater, enjoying the feel of his erect nipples through the wool. “You’ll have to hold me up, Harri.”

“Looks that way, bach,” Harri responded somewhat tersely. “Come on, let’s get started.”

As it happened, Harri had to hold onto Julia through most of their skating time. She proved to be as much a natural on the ice as she was in the dance studio.

“I just don’t seem to have any balance for this sort of thing,” she gasped and clung onto his arm on one side and the rail on the other. Past flirting now, Julia simply wanted to stay upright.

Harri was in mid-chuckle when the music abruptly stopped, to be replaced by the strains of ‘Happy Birthday’.

Relishing a reprieve, Julia leaned on the rail, while everyone sang to Trevor who, judging from the racket coming from one of the marquees, was still ensconced in the bar.

When it was over, Harri looked her in the eye. “I think you’re ready to try the middle of the rink out now.”

“No way!”

“Way,” he laughed. “Come on, you can still hang onto me. You can’t stay by the rails all night.”

“I rather think I can.”

“Chicken.”

Julia brought herself up to her full height. “No one calls me ‘chicken’ and gets away with it!” She glared at him and then slipped a little. “You will hold me up though, Harri, won’t you? Don’t let me go, will you?”

Harri laughed and put his arm round her waist. “Put your arm round my neck and you’ll be fine. Oh, the music’s changed again.”

And so it had. The lighting changed too. To accompany the moody notes of Elvis’ Blue Christmas the ice rink transformed from white to a greeny-blue. Dry ice shifted across its surface.

Harri and Julia made their unsteady way across the ice. It was as if they were moving underwater; it felt dreamy and romantic. Their limbs slowed to match the seductive rhythm of the old song.

Julia was only too aware of the man next to her. Although she knew she’d fall if he let go of her, she was certain he wouldn’t. She felt safe.

She also felt as horny as hell.

She stopped and slid round to face him. With her sudden movement, he staggered a little. It brought his face next to hers, within kissing distance. She felt his breath, hot on her cold face.

He put both arms around her, to hold her steady. Feeling brave, in return, Julia slipped her arms round his waist, bringing him tight into her. She gazed up at him, willing him to kiss her. Where their bodies met, a heat burned, even through their thick winter clothes.

“Far enough, I think,” whispered Harri but Julia knew he wasn’t only referring to the distance they’d come on the ice.

“Better go back now, bach. Join the others.”

Julia was shocked at how disappointed she felt. Not to mention the blow to her ego. “Okay,” she said slowly. “If we must.”

They’d joined Trevor and his gang in the bar, where she and Harri had spent the rest of the evening determinedly catching up on the alcohol intake.

Did Harri really like her, Julia wondered, as the Quickstep being announced brought her back to the present. She sensed a reserve in him, something holding him back. On occasion, she was sure he reciprocated her feelings. She vibrated with desire every time he came near her and his continued neutrality made her dry-mouthed with frustration. Maybe, it was that he simply didn’t like her that way? The group were all very hands on; forever hugging and kissing one another. Callum, still in the competition and giving Harri a run for his money as the favourite, made the most of every opportunity to squeeze and stroke in nauseating fashion. Julia gave a shudder as she remembered how he’d pinched her bottom that very morning. If anything, Harri was more restrained than everyone else was and it was still causing problems in the infernal rumba that they were planning for the Christmas special.

“You. Alright?” Jan asked in his customary aggressive manner.

Julia sucked in a deep breath. If she were to stay in the competition and maybe, just maybe, find out what Harri’s true feelings were, she needed to concentrate. Being able to see Harri most days in the training gym was a powerful incentive. She looked up at Jan. “Fine. I’m fine. Let’s just get on with it.”

Julia found herself backstage in what seemed like a matter of minutes, unable to believe what had happened. She had missed the dance off yet again and the judges had been forced to choose between Casey and Suni. Julia held her breath, hardly noticing that Harri had grabbed her hand and was holding on tight. A shout of relief echoed round when the judges voted for Suni. The whole gang, even po-faced Jan, leapt to their feet and cheered. Casey hadn’t been popular and everyone recognised Suni’s talent.

“Thank God for that. Come here, lovely girl and give me a cwtch!” Julia found herself wrapped up in Harri’s powerful arms in a rugby scrum of a hug – the ‘cwtch,’ she assumed.

“Ooh,” she managed as the air was squeezed out of her.

Harri dropped her immediately. “Sorry, got a bit carried away.” His face was flushed Julia noticed and he seemed embarrassed.

As one, the remaining contestants milled onto the studio floor and gathered round Suni, Casey and even Charlie and Carol.

Julia found herself hugging Daniel Cunningham, Casey’s professional partner. He was a lovely man she thought, tall and lean with floppy blond hair. “I’m so sorry,” she yelled at him over the hubbub.

He hugged her back. “We’d gone about as far as we could,” he said into her ear, his breath hot on her cheek. “Casey’s got a modelling contract in the States coming up. She wanted out anyway.”

Julia drew back aghast. “You mean it was fixed? The result was fixed?”

Daniel tapped his nose and grinned. “Can’t say, but she didn’t exactly have much time for training this week. Too busy on the phone – and it showed.”

“But that’s so unfair on you!” Julia said in a shocked voice. She knew how much the competition meant to the professional dancers, it was the source of Jan’s eternal frustration with her.

“It’s the way it goes,” Daniel shrugged with a sanguine smile and Julia couldn’t help but compare his reaction to that of Jan’s in the same situation. Her admiration for this calm man increased.

He twisted his arms round her and held onto her more firmly. “I’ll come and give you and Jan a hand if you like,” he said smiling down at her, his green eyes glowing. “Apart from one or two show dances, I’ll have plenty of free time. Maybe I can help you and Harri with your rumba, too?”

Julia thought of his presence in the training room, calming Jan and encouraging her. “Oh, yes please!” she said with more warmth than she meant to. “That’s just want I need!”

Harri watched them over Casey’s shoulder, as the girl hung limpet-like onto him. He scowled. So, that was the way it was. A shaft of jealousy speared his middle causing actual physical pain.

“Larry! We practise tomorrow. Nine on the spot!” Eva’s voice irritated his ear.

“It’s Harri,” he muttered yet again, “and it’s on the dot, not on the spot.” He shrugged Casey off and went to congratulate Suni, keeping one eye on Julia and Daniel, still standing with their arms entwined.

Fuck these impossible restrictions imposed on his career. He’d have to make a move soon, or lose Julia. He’d just have to chance it. He just hoped it wasn’t too late.

Step Seven.

The rehearsal wasn’t going well.

Daniel had kept his promise and had come in to help practise the rumba with Julia and Harri. Jan and Eva were in the studio next door and, at first, Julia thought this would mean a more relaxed session – she was even looking forward to it. But she was wrong. Harri was tense and wasn’t taking kindly to Daniel’s suggestions. He seemed more reluctant to let go than ever and it was making the dance seem stiff. Even Julia could see it.

“Let me show you,” Daniel said finally, after the third run through. He took Julia into the beginning hold and backed her gently down until she was almost touching the floor with her head.

“See, you have to make love to her, caress her.” At this, Daniel held her with one arm and rubbed his hand electrifyingly down over Julia’s breastbone.

Julia let out a startled yelp – Daniel’s hand was hot and perilously near her breasts.

He lifted her up slightly and pulled her to him until they were nose to nose. His green eyes were mesmerising. “You never break contact, do you see Harri? You’re always connected physically or, most importantly, emotionally. You’ve got to make the audience believe you’re in love with this woman. And don’t rush through it, take your time, linger over her.”

Daniel pulled a disorientated Julia back to her feet and left her side. “You have a go.” He placed Harri and Julia close together, far closer than they’d ever been.

Julia stared into Harri’s dark eyes and willed her sympathy over to him; he must be finding this excruciatingly embarrassing. She was so close to him that she could feel his breath hot on her face; it smelled of toothpaste. She felt his strong arm come round her back and it seemed to burn right through her ballet top.

“Right, good, that’s better.” Daniel’s calm and encouraging voice broke into the moment. “Now, back her down. Julia, you have to trust him like you trusted me, he’s just as strong, he’s not going to drop you. Release her hand now Harri and take yours down her body, that’s it.”

Julia could feel the muscles in Harri’s arm tense against her back.

“Look at him Julia, don’t let him break that contact.”

Julia did as she was told and was held in a spell cast by the warmth in Harri’s brown eyes, he’d never ever looked at her in quite that way before.

“Now take your hand Harri and stroke it slowly down her. No use your whole hand, flatten the palm out.”

Julia felt Harri’s hand sear her body and felt it tremble slightly. And then, because she couldn’t help it, because it was too much like bliss, she let her head arch back in ecstasy. Desire pulsed through her. She heard him whisper something in Welsh and let the husky words caress her – just as his hand was caressing her body from breast, over her stomach, to the where her legs met.

A beat began in the very core of her being, where Harri’s hand lay. God, she was turned on! If she didn’t have this man soon, she’d combust. Did he know the effect he had on her? She couldn’t help herself; she bucked against his hand, making it press more urgently against her sex.

“Good, good,” Daniel sounded surprised but pleased, “that’s a good line. Hold it, then lift her gently up Harri and bring her back to the standing position and be ready to break away … now!”

Julia found herself coming to without really knowing quite what had just happened. She was dizzy and her legs trembled. She still fizzed with unspent desire. Then she saw Harri breathe heavily and run a hand over his forehead, and she came back down to earth. He was sweating. Damn, she didn’t think she was that heavy!

Daniel looked at both of them curiously: “We’ll take a break now folks, but we’ve done some good work here this morning. Take twenty.”

“Good idea,” Harri mumbled and walked out.

Julia frowned at the towel she’d just picked up and muttered into it as she wiped her face: “I didn’t think dancing with me would be so much of a hardship for him.” She gazed up at Daniel in appeal. “I thought we got on so well.”

He passed her a fresh bottle of water. “I think that’s the problem, babe.” He nodded to the door. “Think our Welsh friend likes you more than just a little bit.”

“No!” Julia looked at him startled. “He can hardly bear to touch me. Today’s the first time anything like that’s happened and that’s only because you were coaching us.”

“Didn’t look like that to me. Think he’s gone to cool himself off, if you know what I mean.” Daniel gave her a bawdy wink and grinned. “Don’t sweat it – it made the dance hot, hot, hot!” He came nearer and swiped the bottle from her. “It’ll be a showstopper.” He saluted her with the water bottle and drank thirstily. Screwing his eyes shut, he clamped down on his own burgeoning feelings for Julia. He’d seen the longing in Harri’s face and knew he couldn’t, maybe didn’t want to, compete.

“Maybe he has to be careful,” he added. “You know, in his line of work. People can be funny about the image children’s television presenters give off. They have to appear a bit innocent, don’t they?”

“What, still, in this day and age?” Julia glared at him.

Daniel shrugged. “Well, maybe. It’s just a theory and Harri’s serious about his job. He said the other night how much it means to him.”

But Julia wasn’t really listening, she stared at the door through which Harri had exited so swiftly and wondered what he had just said to her in Welsh.

“So, what did you say to me?” They were sitting in the pizza place again. Neither of them really wanted yet another pizza, it was simply a quick way to refuel their starving and hard worked bodies. The place was again packed with people celebrating Christmas. This time, Mary’s Boy Child played on the sound system.

“What? When?”

“When we were doing the rumba this morning with Daniel.” Julia, disconcerted by Harri’s unusual disinterest, prattled on, mainly to fill the silence. “He was brilliant, don’t you think? So encouraging and kind. He’s exactly what I need. But what did you say in Welsh, during training?”

Harri looked down at his beer and reddened. “It was nothing.”

“No, it was something. What did you say?”

“I said …”

“It sounded beautiful. I had no idea the language was so beautiful. What did you mean?”

A large group in the back of the restaurant erupted into laughter and began a chorus of We wish you a merry Christmas. Harri’s eyes strayed to them and Julia thought she could see longing in his face. Was she really such dull company? “Well,” she said a little huffily, “if you don’t want to tell me I’m sure it’s not important.”

Harri flashed his eyes back to hers. “I said I loved you,” he said abruptly. They held one another’s gaze.

“Oh,” Julia spluttered. There was a silence and the remains of their easy friendship fled. “You were obviously, erm, just getting into the mood of the dance then.” She tried to say it without an ounce of hope or expectation.

Harri gave a huge sigh. “Yeah, that’s it.” He seemed deflated she thought. “Duw, I need another drink! Oh, look, it’s Abi again, wouldn’t you know it. Another Becks and more wine?” He busied himself with the order and the moment passed.

In the cab on their way home Julia tried to resurrect the companionship they’d shared by discussing Daniel’s coaching skills. But Harri remained taciturn and, as it was so unlike him, she too lapsed into silence. The atmosphere between them was as frosty as the weather outside.

Step Eight.

Quarter-final week. Of all the dancers who had started only Harri, Callum, Suni and, unbelievably, Julia remained.

The show had begun to hit the papers, with Julia’s story featuring prominently. As Lavinia said, it was all good publicity, even the focus on Julia’s appalling dancing, but Julia wasn’t happy being in the full glare of the tabloids. She and Harri remained friends but he continued to be distant with her. She blamed the increased publicity; she knew he had to be careful with any press coverage.

Daniel was as attentive as ever and, now that so many contestants had been voted off, it was good to find solace in his and Erica’s friendship. They often went out as a threesome and her cosy pizzas with Harri became a thing of the past. Harri’s position as favourite was slipping, the public were, in true British fashion, going for the underdog and Callum and Julia were increasingly tipped to win.

Julia, under Daniel’s kind and patient tutelage, was blossoming. She was in no way as good as Suni but was really improving; even Jan had muttered reluctant words of praise.

It wasn’t all rosy though. Now that Casey had left, Callum had fewer victims for his letching and Julia found herself constantly having to dodge his roving hands. Fortunately, Daniel acted as a type of bodyguard and had the ability to diffuse tricky situations with an enviable grace and skill.

Julia wondered about Daniel. He was a quiet man, incredibly lithe and good looking but always seemed to be on his own. She had no idea if he was straight or gay; he seemed almost asexual. But she enjoyed his company and appreciated his friendship.

Bob, the producer, decided to throw a Christmas party on the night before the quarter-final show. Everyone had been working hard and the atmosphere was increasingly tense. He’d hired a ballroom in a local hotel and had invited all the original contestants, plus their partners and families.

The production team had gone to town. A host of purple and silver sequined banners fluttered from the ceiling, a tree stood to one side, groaning with purple lights and waitresses, dressed as silver mini-skirted fairies, dotted about, dispensing mulled wine and mince pies.

At the centre of the ballroom hung an over-sized silver glitterball, from which hung an enormous bunch of mistletoe, swagged with purple and silver satin ribbons.

It was all very over the top. And very Who Dares Dances.

As Julia entered, on Daniel’s arm, the big band began to play.

“Bit of a busman’s holiday this, isn’t it?” she whispered to him and they laughed.

“Big difference between dancing for a competition and dancing for pleasure,” he replied and pulled her into his arms for a foxtrot.

And he was proved right. Everyone let their hair down but the professionals really let rip. Julia, grabbing a glass of wine and using the time to get her breath back, watched in amazement.

Erica was doing a cha cha cha with Scott, Suni’s irritable Australian partner. Alicia was smooching with husband Warren and Callum, true to form, was getting up close and personal with Casey.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” Julia turned to see Harri’s sweetly familiar face next to her. They watched in silence for a few minutes as Eva and Jan outshone every dancer on the floor by doing moves that were definitely not recognised in any formal competition.

“Is she sober?” Julia wondered as Eva was whirled round by Jan and hoisted into a one handed lift. Eva had a glazed expression in her eyes and Julia had never seen the dancer look even slightly out of control before.

Harri laughed. “Don’t know and don’t really care.” He emptied his glass.

Julia took two more from the table behind them and passed him one. “I haven’t seen much of you lately,” she said, almost afraid to bring it up.

“Busy filming,” he shrugged. “We’ve got three Christmas specials of Red Pepper to go out and I’ve been doing those. I’ve only just got back from seeing Father Christmas in Lapland.” Harri gave a short, “Ho, ho, ho. He says if you’re a good girl, you’ll get a present.”

“Haven’t they given you any time off?” Julia looked at him curiously. He had shadows under his eyes and was pale and drawn. He had a heavier work commitment than any of them but hadn’t let it show until now.

“Some, and despite what the bookies say, I don’t think they thought I’d be in it this long, see.” He shrugged again and took another drink.

“Did you?”

“No,” he laughed and finally met her eyes. “Did you?”

Julia smiled back. “You know I didn’t. It’s true that miracles happen at Christmas – you’re looking at one.”

Harri laughed again but this time more easily. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

He gave a great sigh and put his glass down, as if coming to a decision. “Dance with me?” He held out a hand.

“Yes please,” she said and took it.

They didn’t take much notice of the demands of the music, just held each other closely. Harri put his head down and nestled into Julia’s neck, breathing in her soft and familiar perfume. He tightened his hold on her, afraid she would escape him.

Daniel felt his eyes drawn to them and smiled sadly. He’d long known he couldn’t compete with Harri. He’d come as close as he ever had to falling in love with Julia, maybe he really did love her. He admired her strength, her determination and her stubbornness in the face of continued criticism but he accepted that she was not for him. Perhaps no woman would ever be for him. But Julia had come closest. He turned away.

Harri and Julia stopped dancing and stood looking at one another. Harri looked up at the glitterball, still rotating slowly, showering everyone in a glittery light. A smile played on his lips as he noticed the mistletoe. He drew back and stared into Julia’s eyes. He seemed to be silently asking her something and nodded in satisfaction at the answer written on her face. He didn’t want to stop holding her, touching her. He’d made up his mind and he was going to act on his decision before it was too late – or before he lost his nerve.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he murmured finally.

Julia smiled up at him. “Not another pizza?”

“Not quite what I had in mind.”

He looked at her and she was suddenly certain what he wanted – because she wanted it too.

“Yes,” she whispered back. “Yes, I’d like nothing better than to get out of here.”

He took her to a bar nearby. It was quiet and had high-sided booths lining the walls, which afforded them privacy.

After ordering drinks, he took her hand and stared at it intently. It was peaceful in here, a contrast to the party they’d just left. Julia leaned back on the cool leather couch, closed her eyes and listened to the soft jazz playing. She felt Harri smooth a finger over her palm and onto the sensitive skin of her wrist. He lifted her hand and then kissed her there, his mouth hot and demanding. Still she didn’t open her eyes but let the sensations swirl around her, jolting a shot a pure sex to her core.

“Harri?” she said eventually and opened her eyes to find his face near hers and her mouth captured.

For a first kiss it was pretty good. One strong arm held her to him but, while his mouth plundered hers, he did not relinquish his hold on her hand.

Eventually they broke apart, content simply to gaze into one another’s eyes.

“God!” Julia said when she had her breath back. “Thank God,” she said and meant it.

Now he did let go of her hand and ran a finger down her cheek. It was hot and he smiled, pleased that he had made her so.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he said, his Welsh accent pronounced.

“Then why didn’t you?” Julia found she was breathing heavily and her eyes dropped to his mouth. She wanted him to kiss her again.

He sighed heavily. “Don’t get me wrong, I really wanted to but…in my line of work I have to be careful. I can’t go around, you know…”

“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Do you know, cariad, I couldn’t agree more.”

“Kiss me again,” she demanded.

He did so and then broke away to answer. “Besides I wasn’t sure how you felt.”

“I don’t think I was sure. Until now.” She traced a finger lightly over his generous lips. He had such a well-shaped mouth she thought, she hadn’t noticed it until now and wondered why.

Harri smiled again, he couldn’t seem to stop. “Well cariad, you were spending so much time with the lovely Daniel.”

Julia straightened. “He’s coaching me!” she said indignantly. “He’s a really good friend. And I think he’s gay anyway.” She blushed.

“He didn’t look very gay from where I was standing. Something tells me Daniel wants you as more than a friend.”

This time Julia grinned. “You’re jealous!” The realisation sent a warm glow spreading through her.

“You bet. It’s been tearing me apart.”

He raised a hand to the back of her neck and brought her close to him again. He was a little rough but Julia didn’t mind, she found she was exhilarated and the sexual tug, deep in her soul, pulled at her again. Their mouths met and this time neither held anything back.

The sound of their drinks being clinked down on the glass table in front of them had them springing apart and giggling.

“Let’s get out of here,” Harri threw down a note. “Which flat’s closest?”

“Mine,” Julia said and grabbed her coat. They went out into the icy December night where the white Christmas lights turned them monochrome.

“Islington, please,” she said to the taxi driver as they got into the cab. She was shivering violently but it wasn’t with cold.

“Might take a while love,” he replied, “traffic’s terrible tonight. Crowds out to see the lights, I expect.”

Julia and Harri didn’t notice how long the journey home was, nor did they notice the spectacular Christmas lights; they were too busy kissing. They broke off just long enough to unlock Julia’s front door and then it slammed behind them as Harri shoved her, none too gently, up against it. He took her hands in his and Julia felt open and vulnerable and incredibly turned on.

“I can’t stop kissing you,” he murmured, “I just can’t stop kissing you.” He tore her scarf away and kissed her neck, leaving a trail of fire. His knee nudged her legs apart and she felt him hard and demanding as he pressed against her. She’d never felt this sexually charged she thought incoherently, she was going to explode if she didn’t have him. He searched under her heavy coat, and then slid two fingers into a gap in the front of her shirt. A button tore but neither noticed as Harri tugged the delicate lace of Julia’s bra away and cupped her breast with his hand. Julia felt her knees give way, his hand was cold and the shock of it had her nipple zinging to life. Another button shot off and he took his burning mouth to her breast. The door rattled on its hinges under their combined weight and Julia would have been quite happy for him to take her there and then.

But Harri had other ideas, at heart he was a gentleman and it didn’t seem right to be doing what they doing up against the cold glass of Julia’s front door. And besides, he’d wanted her for so long that he was worried he wouldn’t last much longer. He backed off, his dark eyes veiled with lust. “Bed,” he managed, “where’s the bed?”

Julia nodded wordlessly, took him by the hand and led him to her bedroom. As they stumbled along clutching one another, unable to let go, they paused to kiss frantically. They ripped off some more clothes and left a trail of winter coats, scarves, bags. Then they fell onto the bed and wrestled with one another’s remaining clothes until they were skin on skin at long last. Julia was aware only of the erotic tickle of the soft hair on Harri’s chest against her breasts and the feel of his needy erection pressing against her stomach. She gasped as Harri almost immediately rolled her onto her back and slid into her.

“Sorry, cariad, can’t wait,” he muttered. “Oh Duw, I’ve wanted this for so long!”

Julia’s head arched back. She couldn’t believe it, she was beginning to come already. Wave after wave of ecstasy spiralled through her, around her, over her. She felt Harri tense, hang over her for a long second and then collapse onto her, crushing her with his weight. “Rwyn dy garu di,” he breathed. “I love you,” He added, in his head.

Julia woke first in the morning. It was still dark outside but she’d grown accustomed to waking early to get to Jan’s demanding rehearsals and today would be no different. She poked her nose above the duvet, shivered and pulled it round her again. She’d have to brace herself to go and turn on the heating. Funny how they’d not noticed the cold last night.

She twisted and gazed at Harri lying on his side facing her. He was frowning slightly in his sleep and had the quilt tucked up around his shoulders as if cold. His hair was sticking up any old how and he looked like a little boy. Julia smiled and remembered that he’d definitely not been the little boy last night. She giggled as she recalled how he’d woken her in the middle of the night and made love to her again, this time with a tender gentleness and at an agonisingly slow pace which had had her crying out in relief when he’d finally entered her.

She’d been right about him she thought with yet another giggle; he was a man of hearty appetites. He shifted slightly and gave a little snuffle. Julia got out of bed, loathe to leave him but desperate for some heat and a shower.

He was awake when she returned and greeted her with a huge grin on his face.

“You look very smug,” she said but softened the comment with a smile and got back onto the bed.

“And you look gorgeous,” he replied and tugged at the towel wrapped around her hair.

“Oh yes, I’m sure I do,” she said as her hair fell down and flapped damply against her face. “I’m sure I’d win the public vote if I went on tonight looking like this.”

“You get my vote every time.”

“Corny.”

“But true.” Harri’s eyebrows quirked wickedly in that expressive way they had. “Come here, I’ve got something to show you.”

“We’ll be late for training, Harri!”

He pulled at her dressing gown belt and the robe fell apart, revealing her breasts. He grinned at the sight. “For once, I’ve got something worth being late for. Come and see what I’ve got for you.”

As the duvet was tented up dramatically around the area of his groin, Julia had a pretty good idea what he had in mind to show her but she played along. “What is it?”

He grinned again and flipped back the duvet. “Dyma un a nes i’n gynharach!”

“What?” she said as he tumbled her into bed and covered her with his warm body.

“It’s one I made earlier!” he said and he kissed her through their laughter.

“God Harri,” she moaned a little later. “I think you’ve finally found your hip action!”

Step Nine.

In the car on the way to the studio, Julia snuggled up to Harri and whispered, “So, are you finally going to tell me what you said to me in Welsh?”

He rolled his eyes heavenwards and tutted in mock despair. “I told you, it means it’s one I made earlier. It’s a sort of a pun you know on … but honestly, if I have to explain my jokes all the time, this relationship is doomed.” He stopped as she hit him.

“Not that! What you said last night, you know, as you erm –”

“Oh that!” He looked at her with amusement lighting his dark eyes. “You’re not brilliant with languages, are you, cariad? Have you forgotten? I’ve told you what it means, already!”

Julia shook her head and grinned. “I’m about as good at languages as I am at dancing!”

“That bad, eh?”

She gave him another playful punch.

“And another thing, you’ve got to stop hitting me!”

“Tell me!”

“I will – but another time.” He glanced at the driver who was obviously intrigued as to why he was picking up both Harri and Julia from the same address that morning. “Another time when we’re alone, see.”

And for the moment Julia had to be content with that.

Jan had been furious with her for being late but it hadn’t broken into the bubble of happiness that she existed in throughout the day. She came across Harri often as he rehearsed with Eva and they made stupid little signs and gestures to one another.

“Me, I am to be sick!” announced Eva at the final dress rehearsal later that afternoon, as a comment on their behaviour.

“Tsk. Unprofessional,” agreed Jan but he was secretly delighted that Julia, finally, was showing signs that she could actually dance.

The atmosphere in the quarter-final show was electric. The judges went wild over Harri’s newfound confidence and, to Julia’s amusement, declared that he had finally found his hip action. She’d caught his eye at that point and they’d had hysterics. Julia sobered up quickly when she found herself in the dance off, competing against Callum. Despite being the bookies’ favourite, he’d performed abysmally in his quickstep; it just hadn’t been a dance suited to big man like him.

The four of them stood breathlessly in front of the judges after the exertion of dancing yet again. Julia tried to console herself with the thought that getting as far as this was as good as it could get, to get to the semi-final would be a miracle too far.

As Charlie announced that the judges were about to declare the result, based on the best performance in the dance off, there seemed to be a buzzing in her ears and it was proving hard to concentrate. An ominous silence fell on the studio and after a wait of what seemed like three days the announcement was made.

A resounding cheer sounded around the studio and the entire crowd rose to their feet. In contrast, Jan fell to his knees beside her and appeared to be praying. Even for a Russian this seemed a bit of an over emotional response thought Julia and then Callum, gripping her in a bear hug, squeezed all rational thought out of her.

“Good on you,” he yelled in his gruff Scottish accent and then took advantage of her confusion to give her a disgustingly sloppy kiss.

“Wha-what?”

He put her back on the floor and peered down at her. “Did you not hear? You’ve got through. You’re in the semi-final!”

To Julia, it seemed as if everything exploded in a deafening riot of noise and colour. The other competitors, who hugged and kissed them with lavish excess, surrounded her and Jan. Then the crowd parted and Julia saw the person she really wanted: Harri, standing slightly apart, as he always did. She shot into his arms like an arrow finding its target and hung on.

“Da iawn, cariad bach,” he whispered into her ear. “Well done!”

Step Ten.

Julia opened her front door at the first knock. She knew it would be Harri. After the celebrations in the studio, he’d gone home to get some fresh clothes with the promise to come back with the papers and to enjoy a lazy Sunday with her. She had coffee perking, croissants warming in the oven and was looking forward to spending some time with him. But as soon as she saw his face, she knew something was very wrong.

Harri stared around him cautiously, shut the door and grabbed Julia by the arm. He took her into her kitchen at the back of the flat, pulled the blind shut and threw his collection of papers onto the table. He sank into a chair.

“Harri, what’s wrong?”

He looked up at Julia’s worried face, she already knew him so well, he thought and there was little point hiding the news, she’d find out soon enough. He flipped open a red top and pushed it over to her.

“The heat is on as Who Dares Dances stars rumba to love!” screamed one headline.

With a sinking heart, Julia sat down and read on:

“Who Dares Dances stars Harri Morgan and Julia Cooper are getting some hot love action off the dance floor. Training to perfect their passionate rumba, has spilled into their private life. ‘I could see them getting more and more intimate,’ said one source, close to the couple.”

Feeling sick, Julia pulled another newspaper over and opened it. Pictures of her and Harri were splashed all over the second page. There was one of them practising the rumba – a still from training footage and a photograph of them hugging one another after the quarter-final result. She read the beginning of the attached article:

“Harri, thirty one and Julia, twenty seven, have become increasingly friendly. An insider on the show said: ‘They were seen getting very cosy at an after show party. They couldn’t keep their hands off one another!’

“The couple have also been spotted sharing intimate late night dinners designed strictly for two. Our source added, ‘It’s become obvious they have strong feelings for one another and I think it’s getting in the way of their training.’”

“Cheek!” exclaimed Julia, “we’ve both got so much better. Casey?” she looked questioningly at Harri, “Eva?”

He shrugged. “It could be anyone. It could even be Abi from the pizza place. Have you seen this one?” He passed her yet another tabloid.

She took it wordlessly and then gasped at the photos of her and Harri kissing passionately while they waited for the taxi home the other night. She got distracted for a minute thinking how gorgeous he was, in his long leather coat and black jeans and then realised just what the press coverage would mean. She looked at him, dismay on her face. “Oh, I’m so sorry Harri!”

“We haven’t exactly been discreet, have we?” He rubbed a weary hand over his face and managed a weak grin. “I suppose it was inevitable that it would come out.”

“Have you … has anyone contacted you from Red Pepper?”

“No, not yet. No doubt I’ll get a call tomorrow.”

“What will they do?”

Harri searched for her hand and found it. “I don’t know,” he frowned deeply, “they might not renew my contract, or give me the sack straight away.” He shrugged again. “Who knows?”

“What, just for going out with me?”

He managed a grin at her outrage. “It’s not so much that.” He took an enormous breath, realising he’d have to tell her the truth. “I have this clause in my contract, see. They made me sign it.” He searched for the right words. “I’m not supposed to form any personal relationships with anyone else on the show.” He rushed on, ignoring her stricken expression. “I suppose it’s really more of a case of being seen doing stuff like that, see.” He nodded to the photograph of them kissing in public. “They don’t usually mind me having a private life just as long as it’s not seen happening – and doesn’t get into the papers. Then they added this bit in the contract, just for this show.”

“Oh my God,” Julia said, as the truth of what he was saying dawned. “But that’s so hypocritical!”

“You said it, cariad.” He rose and came behind her, put his arms round her and kissed the top of her head.

Now it had happened, just how did he feel about it? Anxious and insecure for the future, yes but he also felt strangely relieved. There would be no more stumbling along until they tired of him; He’d have to find another career now. It was peculiarly freeing.

“You sound so calm about it all!” Julia twisted so she could see his face.

He kissed her quickly and laughed. “I suppose I’ve had a whole two hours more to get used to the idea. And in a way it might be a good thing. It’s going to force me into action, it’s going to get me out there and find out what I really want to do.”

Julia nuzzled his stubbled cheek and wanted to cry. He risked losing so much. For her. Just to be with her.“But Harri, you’ve risked your job to be with me. Do you, do you regret - ?”

“What?” His voice reverberated against her skin and his breath was warm.

“Do you regret,” Julia took a deep breath, “us?”

Harri went very still. “Do you?”

“No!” she said a little wildly, “of course not! But it’s not my career that’s been ruined.”

“Bit dramatic, bach!”

Julia giggled weakly, despite herself. “I am an actor,” she pointed out.

“True enough.” Harri breathed in the scent of her hair and thought. He did feel calm. Would it scare her off, he wondered, if he said what he wanted to? That he had what he most wanted here, in this little kitchen, held in his arms. His career? Well, that would take care of itself; something was bound to turn up.

“I don’t regret anything I’ve, I mean that we’ve done.” He tightened his arms round her and kissed the only part of her he could get at – her neck. “You’re the best thing,” when she began to protest, he shushed her and went on, “the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I wanted you from the very first moment I saw you at the Still Life party. And now I’ve got you I’m not letting you go.”

Julia relaxed against him. She loved him, she knew that now. She loved his dark eyes and his wicked grin, she loved his beautiful body with its honed muscles. But most of all she loved his cheerful determination, his optimism, the steady way in which he tackled life’s problems, whether it was mastering the tricky steps to a paso doble, or simply a fan asking for his autograph at an inconvenient moment. And she was confident that he’d face this crisis in his usual way - with steady fortitude. “So, you’re not going to let me go, are you?”

“Not a chance, you have this habit of swanning off with tall good looking blond men every time my back’s turned.”

Julia giggled again, this time with more conviction and then frowned at a burning smell. “You’re going to have to let me go I’m afraid,” she said, with mock seriousness.

“Why?” Harri’s voice was muffled; he was busy nibbling her ear.

“Because our breakfast’s burning!” Julia leapt up and rescued the croissants. They’d been burned black and were beyond hope. She said as much to Harri, coughing and laughing and flapping a tea towel around the room so that the smoke alarm wouldn’t go off.

He came up behind her and put his arms about her again. “Cariad,” he said into the nape of her neck as his hands caressed her breasts. “Don’t worry, I’ve got another sort of breakfast on my mind. Come to bed …”

Step Eleven.

Monday morning brought sheepish grins from the team at Who Dares Dances. Harri didn’t know for sure just who had sold them to the press but didn’t overly care; the way he and Julia had been carrying on it would’ve got into the papers somehow. The press loved Julia, they loved Who Dares Dances and they seemed to love him; they’d smelt a story and wanted more.

He’d rung his neighbour from the car on the way to the television studios. Apparently, there had been a few reporters sniffing around his flat all night. He was going to have to find another way of getting into it, he thought with a grin. He smiled at Suni and Scott as his mobile went off. He closed the door to his dressing room and, with his heart beating faster, answered the call from Red Pepper.

Still at home, Julia had picked up her mobile on its first ring, thinking it would be Harri with more news.

“Julia?” It was Bibi, her agent. “Julia? I’ve had the Cabaret people on the phone.”

“And?” Julia tried not to hold her breath and failed.

“They want you, darling. Can you meet them later today? They’re going to offer you Sally Bowles!”

Julia’s first impulse was to ring Harri.

“I’ve got the part!” she yelled into her mobile.

“They’re not going to sack me!” Harri exclaimed at the same time.

They both screamed simultaneously down their phones.

“I want to see you now,” said Harri urgently.

“Can’t, I’ve got a meeting arranged with the director of Cabaret.”

“Uffern dan, I can’t either, I’ve got to train with Eva. See you later tonight?”

“My place?”

Harri thought about the reporters nosing round his flat. “Think it might be better. Hwyl fawr am y tro.”

Julia looked at the blank phone screen and clicked it off. She loved the man but she was going to have to learn some Welsh. She made a promise to herself to look up a Welsh dictionary online, as soon as she got home.” Not knowing what he was on about half the time was driving her insane. Harri grinned as he flagged down a taxi to take him to the dance studios where he was due to rehearse with Eva. He couldn’t believe life could be so good. Red Pepper, in acknowledgement of his previously unblemished record, had given him a warning to be more discreet and had let him off. They were so delighted with his unexpected progress in Who Dares Dances

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