Dancing

"I should take these off first," Del said, sighing, as she pointed to the heavy shoes on her feet. "It's a little bit obvious otherwise." Then she laughed, the tension leaving her face. "This is going to be amazing. I have even more people I can annoy with my dancing!"

"That's not a good thing," Spook replied. "And trust me, Margaret really can get you into a lot of trouble. Just keep out of her way, all right?"

When Del was suitably attired - jeans, t-shirt, ordinary shoes - they went downstairs. Spook led the way, but she had a bit of difficulty as Del kept stopping to read posters on the walls, look at pictures, and above all stare curiously around at all the doors. "How many people live here?" she said in wonder.

"You should see the other houses," said Spook. "Anyway, come on. Or don't you want to be able to dance?"

The conversation went reasonably well. "Delorfinde is an Irish dancer," Spook began. "She's wondering when she'll be able to practice, and where. She doesn't want to lose her fitness because she can't go to normal classes any more!"

"I see," Mrs O'Neill replied. "Are you any good?" Del paused for thought, staring at the floor. At last she answered.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I've only ever danced in two competitions but I did get some trophies and stuff. I only started a year ago, so..." But then she smiled. "Would you like a demonstration?"

They went out into a corridor - the office was too crowded for high kicks, and definitely too small for jumps - so that Del could show off. A few girls saw and came to watch.

"Okay. Show me what you can do."

The End

93 comments about this story Feed