Dancing
It was the yearly Christmas dance at the assembly hall down in Halifax and Anne was forced to attend. Truth was that her aunt had been so excited, and Anne hadn’t the heart to tell the woman she had no want to go or to dance. Besides, it was one of the few diversions one could have in Halifax at this time of the year except for studying. Anne had put her foot down though when her aunt had tried to persuade her to wear a ball gown. Aunt Anne had immediately faltered and apologised, telling Anne that she might wear whatever she felt most comfortable wearing – so long as she didn’t come underdressed.
Anne was standing by the refreshments table, avoiding dancing as far as was possible, she didn’t really like the concept of it, she did think it was good exercise, but she didn’t like the fact that a man must lead her in the dance. She’d rather dance with one of the girls but couldn’t, she wasn’t allowed.
Anne gazed at the dance floor and sighed quietly, mourning the fact that she might never be able to soar across the dance floor in a ballroom with the one she loved between her arms. Life really wasn’t fair, Anne thought bitterly.
Anne was startled from her daydreaming by Christopher Rawson coming over to disturb her peace,
“Would you like to dance, miss Lister?” He asked roughly and Anne didn’t even grace him with a look,
“No thank you.”
“If you don’t say yes, it’ll look poor if you dance with another gentleman later.” Christopher commented and Anne blew air out of her nose, annoyed,
“Leave me alone, Christopher.”
They had danced together before, not that she really enjoyed it much, and she suspected he might have singled her out as a possible candidate to be his wife, and she didn’t want to encourage him. It would be awkward for both parties if he ended up asking for her hand.
Christopher touched her by the arm, and Anne snatched it back from him, glaring at him, hissing,
“Touch me again and you’ll regret the day you were born, Rawson!”
“Ah come on, it’s just for a laugh, we had a bet – indulge me, Anne! I need to win!” Christopher pressed, reaching out to touch her arm again and Anne gave him half-a-look,
“Are you always such an idiot, or do you just show off when I’m around?”
“One dance, Lister, I won’t enjoy it. Hell, dancing with you almost makes me a fucking shirt lifter.” Christopher cried annoyed, not used to being denied what he wanted.
Anne was quiet at that and he raised an eyebrow at her, tapping his foot to show he was waiting for a reply.
“Oh, I’m sorry I was astounded for a moment by your charm and flattery.” Anne said sarcastically giving him a sharp look,
“Will you or will you not?”
“I told you already – leave me alone!” Anne growled and Christopher’s mouth turned downwards, as he looked at her bitterly, and then he exclaimed loudly, in front of all their friends and neighbours, to humiliate her;
“Why, Anne, I don’t fancy you like that, so stop begging for a dance!”
All eyes turned thither, and instead of doing something rash, and stupid, Anne merely raised an eyebrow, and dryly replied,
“Oh please, Christopher, I have standards!”
Laughter broke out but it was a dance after all, and it was soon forgotten, and people returned to their own dancing and conversations. Christopher, however, became red around the ears, and he walked past Anne bumping into her shoulder, muttering,
“Youqueer bitch.”
Anne clenched her fist but calmed herself, counting slowly to five – causing a scene would only hurt her reputation but by God did she wish she could have punched his jaw out of joint for his comments. Aunt Anne came over worriedly, having witnessed the whole thing from a bit of distance,
“Are you alright, dear?”
“I hate these dances.” Anne muttered and her Aunt frowned, and instead of giving her a speech of how it was beyond her how a lady of barely twenty couldn’t enjoy a dance she took her hand sympathetically, eying her troubled,
“Do you want to leave? We can leave. I don’t want to be here if that’s the way they talk to you.”
Her aunt was referring to Christopher Rawson’s slurs, and she was possibly also saddened by the whispers that surrounded Anne wherever she went in the room.
“Don’t mind them, aunt. They are all pants and no trousers” Anne gave her aunt a comforting smile, but the woman’s frown wouldn’t disappear and wore deeper in her lines,
“Yes, and yet I worry you will somehow end up getting walked all over anyway.”
“Me? Getting walked over? – I don’t think so.” Anne threw her aunt a brave smile.
“Sometimes when we ignore something, or rise above it, if you like, we tend to allow people to say whatever they like to us, in regardless of our own feelings.”
“Don’t worry about it, Aunt. It’s fine, I’m fine. I don’t… They can talk all they want. It doesn’t bother me.” Anne lied and her aunt didn’t seem convinced by it but let it be for now, sensing that her niece rather not have the discussion in a ballroom full of people.
“Come on, my dearest child– we cannot leave until you’ve danced at least once.” Aunt Anne took her hand and pulled her with her, and Anne tried to stop her,
“Aunt! I don’t want to dance. I… I don’t want to dance with…”
“I’m not forcing you to dance with any of the gentlemen here – I’m going to dance with you. That way we both win, I can dance a dance even if I shouldn’t with my arthritis, and you can dance without needing to put up with dolts like Christopher Rawson.”
“Have I told you lately that I love you, Aunt?” Anne laughed and her aunt smiled gaily at her niece as they approached the dance floor and joined the couples. They had the time of their lives, and her aunt never minded the stares and whispers. It was just a lovely last outing with her niece before she was leaving them all in the new year to travel, and a Christmas memory to remember and cherish for always.