Romanov looked sticky and hot; his makeup, heavily classical, was blurred, the colours garish in the fluorescent light.
There was champagne and Linda made the introductions.
“Mikhail, this is Jonathan Delmore and…” she turned to Frank, “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Delaney.”
“Frank,” Jonathan added, giving him an exasperated glance.
Romanov appeared to be captivated. Delaney did not. “You are a dancer?”
His accent was very pronounced, almost affected. He sounded like British TV’s idea of a Russian spy.
Delaney shook his head. His face was utterly implacable, but his eyes were sharp. Jonathan expected him to say, ‘Don’t get any closer’ at any moment.
“No?” Romanov looked disappointed. He turned to Jonathan, held out his hand. He had not done so for Delaney. Instinct or something more calculating?
Jonathan shook it. His grip was firm. He remembered Delaney’s, like holding a dead fish.
“I am very pleased to meet you. I admire your work. I saw Defoe in Amsterdam when I was a student. Very good.”
Jonathan laughed. “You’re going back a bit. I’m glad you liked it.”
“Very unusual. Strong.”
Jonathan wasn’t quite sure what ’strong’ meant, so he didn’t comment.
Linda interrupted, saying, “Jonathan, come meet Elizabeth Devoy,” and tugged him away.
Frank was left facing Romanov. Romanov smiled; he had a full wide mouth with uneven teeth. “You are Jonathan’s boyfriend, yes?”
Delaney turned his back on him and walked away. He found the buffet table and got himself another drink. There were some odd little sandwiches there. He tried one; it tasted of oily fish. He peered inside – looked like salmon. He closed it again and ate it, helped himself to another. The wine was nice. A couple of the women were watching him curiously, wondering who he was, trying to fit him with Jonathan.
Linda left Jonathan with Elizabeth Devoy and joined her friend Audrey at the other side of the room. “Who is he?”
Linda shrugged, turning her back to him and lowering her voice, “I haven’t a clue, and Jonathan isn’t saying.”
Audrey looked at her. “Jonathan’s not queer, is he?”
Linda pulled a face, “No. God. Not a bit of it.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“He’s not exactly a threat to the corps de ballet, but he’s straight as they come.”
Audrey nodded. “Boy isn’t either, I don’t think. What d’you say?”
Linda pulled a face again, considering. She turned and gave him a half-glance. He appeared to be devouring all the smoked salmon sandwiches. “Doesn’t look much like one, does he? Certainly doesn’t move like one.”
“Is he a dancer?”
“I shouldn’t think so, not built like that. When did you ever see a dancer built like him? He looks more like a bouncer. I can’t imagine they’d ever let him in to dancing school, with that build.”
“He’s small, isn’t he?”
Linda nodded.
Audrey took a sip of wine. “Kind of sexy though,” she said thoughtfully.
Linda looked at her. “You’re joking.”
Audrey considered him. “Don’t you find him so?”
“Good God, no. Jonathan knocks spots off him. Now Jonathan’s sexy.”
Audrey laughed and said, “You’ll never catch him. He’s never been married, has he?”
Linda shook her head.
“Sure he’s not gay?” She was smiling.
Linda elbowed her. “Pack it in. Hang on, he’s come undone. Must just catch him.”
She intercepted him halfway back to Frank. “I’ve got a party going on Saturday next, Jonathan. Come along. Bring anyone you like. The more the merrier.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it, Linda.” He glanced at Frank. He looked quite happy, eating vol au vents by the looks of it.
“Try. I mean, it’s after the performance anyway.”
Jonathan smiled, patted her arm. “Okay, I’ll try. No promises.”
She gave him her best radiant smile. He smiled back and said, “It’s been lovely, see you again.” And he moved off to join Frank.
It was cold and raining outside. They ran to Jonathan’s car and got in in a flurry. Frank belted in and ran his hands through his hair. He wore it very short, almost spiky. It made his cheekbones look even higher.
Jonathan reversed, flicking the wipers on.
Delaney spoke. “Did you mean what you said about teaching me to dance?”
Jonathan felt his pulse pick up. He nodded, trying to keep it casual.
Frank turned and looked out the window. “I might have a bash at it.”
Jonathan let his breath out. “Good.”
They didn’t say anything else till they were home.
“Come in and have a coffee. We can sort out something about the dancing lessons.”
Delaney nodded.
He followed Jonathan into the house. They went upstairs to the kitchen.
“Tea? Coffee?”
“I don’t drink it.”
Jonathan looked at him. “What? Neither of them?”
Delaney shook his head.
“What then?”
He shrugged. “Fruit juice. Water will do.”
Jonathan laughed. “I can manage fruit juice. Freshly squeezed, suit you?”
Delaney nodded.
Jonathan poured him a glass then made himself tea with a teabag. He leaned back on the counter, squeezing the bag with a teaspoon and watching Frank. He said carefully, “You’ll have to come here every day. If you’re serious about it.”
“I work days.” Delaney was watching him, intent.
Jonathan decided he rather preferred it when he didn’t make eye contact. You felt as if he could give you a headache looking at you.
“So do I,” Jonathan said dryly. “Believe it or not. I rehearse, I teach students. During the day’s out for me too. What I can do is teach you in the evenings. I don’t go in every night when a show’s running. And even if I do, I can either leave early or skip the middle. We can work it. The point is you’ll have to be adaptable. How does that fit in with your present training?”
“It’s alright. I pay a year. I can go when I like.”
“It’ll replace some of your training for you anyway. It’s harder than it looks.”
Delaney looked at him shrewdly and said, “Why d’you want to teach me?”
Jonathan didn’t lie, was past that. “I think you’re probably a natural. I’m an egoed-out bastard and I want to be proved right.” He stopped short at telling him the cold truth.
“I can’t pay you.”
“I’m not asking you to. You can owe me.”
Delaney looked at him for a long moment before saying in a low voice, “I don’t like owing anybody.”
Jonathan said levelly, “Then forget it. I’m getting my pay off.” Or I will be, he thought.
Delaney put his glass down. “Alright.”
It took Jonathan a minute to understand he was saying alright to him coming here, letting Jonathan teach him, make him his faune. The faune.
Nijinsky was about to come alive.
In Jonathan Delmore’s hands.
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