“Could I please have the
pleasure of the next dance, Mrs Rose?” said Angelo and made a sweeping bow
towards her.
“You can dance?” said Rose,
slightly surprised and not quite believing him.
“Of course I can dance.
I’m a dashing debonair sort of guy, ain’t I?”
“Well then,” she
laughed. “Yes you may,” and gave him her hand so he could help her up.
Then they jokingly posed
with their arms awkwardly akimbo, his hand on the small of her back, and poised
themselves for the launch.
“…Aaand…One, two,
three…” said Angelo and swept them off in a jerky waltz around the dance floor.
Dutch and Sweet Mary cheered and clapped the clumsy couple as they stumbled and
bumbled their way around and tried to synchronize their footsteps. Everyone
laughed as Angelo pom-pommed a melody which tangled them up even more. Rose had
never been happier in all her life, even though Angelo stumbled and trod on her
toes and apologised every five seconds. It was heaven. And soon their efforts
to find a common rhythm were rewarded and they began to move more gracefully
around the stony stage.
Her thoughts tumbled
over each other. Memories of her dead husband, not so long deceased, came
floating up to her and she couldn’t help feeling she was being unfaithful.
Although he had died, she had never really distanced herself from him. She had
never really said goodbye. He had continued to live with her in spirit and now
she was in the arms of another man and she felt rather like an adulterer. And it
was all very sudden. ‘This Angelo is certainly a fast worker,’ she thought,
trying to find fault with him and the situation. And yet when she thought back
on their relationship, it had been growing since the moment they met. Perhaps
she liked him even then. She had just been otherwise preoccupied. And as for
fast work…who knows, it didn’t look as if they were going to have that much
time for a lengthy courtship. Anyway,
the illicitness of Angelo’s embrace only helped to send her heart rate sky
high, adding to the already rosy blush on her cheeks and the twinkle in her
eye.
Rose felt absolutely beautiful. Not only that,
but she looked beautiful too. She had pooled her make-up with Sweet Mary, the
only thing that they had managed to bring with them in their escape from the
ice, and had spent hours making each other up in preparation for the
celebration party. This was in aid of the fact that they had made amazing
progress in their journey, and were very close to the mountains now. In fact,
this was their fifth waystation sanctuary. One more day it seemed and they
would be on the mountain slopes and safe from the ice pack. Righteous didn’t
even have to carry them anymore. The ladies were becoming accustomed to the
strenuous exertions, and in fact were starting to look quite healthy and rosy
cheeked from all the exercise.
After the amazing storm
they had eating their fill of the strange tasting manna that had fallen from
the sky, which was both sweet and salty and took some getting used to. Much
revived, they had pressed on more vigorously than Dutch thought possible. By
three that afternoon Righteous had sited the next waystation and they made it
with an hour to spare. After that they gained confidence and energy and easily
covered the distance between one waystation and the next, Righteous always out
in front leading them unerringly on.
A small worry was that
the manna was running out. After the rains they had collected and stored huge
amounts in their spacious utility pockets, so much so in fact that they all
looked like blimps when their pockets were full. The sun had evaporated what
was left lying on the ground. There had been no rain - just these…little balls
of moist dough. Anyway, it served as food as well as water. Hopefully it would
rain again soon. But for the moment things were good and everyone was happy.
Rose relaxed and let
herself melt into Angelo’s arms. She rested her head on his chest and breathed
in his slightly sweaty aroma. Her nerves tingled from top to toe as she felt
the warmth of his body pressing gently against her as they moved ever more
slowly. A small tinkling melody threaded its way through to her consciousness
and the last barriers in her mind dropped away. The solitary couple swayed
together on the rocky outcrop and she felt like a fairy princess with the ice
arrayed all around her like a white satin dress, and the stars as her diamond
tiara.
Eventually Dutch and
Sweet Mary fell asleep in each other’s arms, while Righteous stood silently
with his face turned towards their only hope. Soon the silent music ended and
Angelo led Rose to the other side of the platform so they could have a bit of
privacy.
The first kiss is always
the most magical. It is the one that transports you beyond the realms of mortal
man to give you a glimpse of God. It is the moment that is longed for, and when
it comes, it is the moment that is held onto for dear life, but to no avail.
She felt the thread of saliva cool on her lips as they parted, her heart
beating as one long roar of thunder in her ears. They lay for a moment on their
backs gazing up at the stars, then they were joined together again in a warm
and wet embrace, breath mingling with breath, his beard rough against her milky
soft skin, sucking at each other as if it was their only sustenance, hungry for
love, like babies hungry for milk. She felt him fumbling with her clothes and
had a momentary prudish thought, but her body yearned for him too strongly to
stop now. The chill of ice bit at her naked skin as he peeled her suit away and
kissed her again. The last thing she remembered were the hot tears of happiness
that rolled down her cheek as he slid on top of her.
