She swung in my arms

The dance hall had an old fashioned air about it, I had kind of stumbled in there. I was in a strange city, on my own, and was just walking round. I was thinking of returning to my hotel when I saw the sign, ‘Dancing’.  It was on the side of a building, it looked as if it had been there for years, not very inviting I thought, but then so what, what had I got to lose? I pushed the door open and there was a flight of stairs lit by a small lamp. I hesitated, it did not look very inviting, and what, I thought, was at the top?

I heard the sound of music, it actually sounded like a band, they were playing an old jazz number as if to themselves. I pushed open some swing doors and after adjusting my eyes to the dim lighting saw what I supposed to be a cash desk. An old lady sat behind the desk and took my entrance money; one pound and I was in!

It was as of  a guilded  palace. It had the look of a dance hall of years gone by when it would have been packed with dancers, when the dances were a sequence of quickstep, waltz, and foxtrot, now long gone. It was, as they say, on its last legs.

As I looked round I thought to myself and so are the dancers what few there were. I looked round for a bar, a place I could just ease into until I had sus’t out what was what. But there wasn’t one, just seats at tables round the the floor. I am not a particularly shy person, but I felt exposed as I walked in looking for somewhere to sit. I felt as if I was under inspection from the few women that were there.

They were probably thinking who is this burke whose come into this dead-beat place, but I braved that thought to get near the band, at least I could get some pleasure listening to them if nothing else. They had seen better days. These were old musicians who were now playing by rote, they had done, and seen it all, before! They were dawdling, if you can, through and old Louis number, Blue Moon, but strangely effective.

  ‘Would you like to dance?’
I looked up in surprise to see a lady, rather long in years, looking down at me. It is not the kind of thing that you expect so I was not sure how to respond - I’m of the old school, you don’t expect a woman to ask you to dance - and also you suspect something, like, they must be getting pretty desperate to do the asking themselves. What the hell I thought let’s go for it, I’ve nothing to lose.

  ‘Sure,’ I responded in the same laconic way. Just like Bogie in Casablanca.

She sort of fell into my arms. I was surprised to feel the softness of a woman’s body fitting so closely into mine. I wasn’t sure what to do, dance steps I mean. Long ago I thought of myself as a pretty good dancer, I even went to dance lessons, but now, well now was now, and it seemed  a shuffle would do.

And so we moved off. She moved with practiced ease, as if born to it. Her hair was softer than I expected, it had a clean smell to it, as if just washed. There was a scent, a scent associated with a woman. It’s difficult to describe, but you know it when you smell it, a bit like babies, it is at once enticing and assuring, you can’t help but want to caress them. She looked up with baby blue eyes, I felt that old urge, here we go then!

I swung out onto the floor and tried a few fancy moves, she followed, easily, light as a feather. It seemed that no matter where I went she followed. Her feet always seemed to anticipate my steps, her body swung away and back in tune with my movements.

Suddenly we were dancing. It’s an odd sensation, the floor becomes yours, which ever way you move, whatever steps you take, its as if the dance asks for more. The band sensing some thing special going on picked up the pace a bit and swung with more rhythm. We were in concert together. And then it was over.

‘Thanks,’ she said, and walked away.

I waited outside for but she never came.

I’ve looked for that dance hall again, but whenever I turned down that street it is not there.

An old lady stood under a street lamp by a bus stop. I thought I recognised her.
‘I used to work there,’ she said, in answer to my query.
‘But I saw you last night.’
She smiled. ’No, that was long ago.’
‘But I paid you a pound.’
‘Are,’ she smiled mysteriously, ’That was for a dream.’
‘But I danced with a lady.’
She smiled again. ’Then that was your dream come true.’
Then the bus came and she was gone except for the lingering scent of a woman!