Jane raised her eyebrows and shook her head, ‘Yes, I did. Now it’s my turn.’ She walked around the dance floor and spoke to the band’s bass guitarist.
‘What you up to?’ he asked Jane warily when she returned.
‘All I can say is... there is something going down and I can feel it,’ Jane replied with a grin.
Nick racked his brain to associate what she said with a song. The answer came when the lead singer made an announcement.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, this next song by the Bee Gees is especially for Nick, who’s also a big John Travolta fan.’
As the band started playing ‘Night Fever’, the audience let out a loud cheer and more couples got on the dance floor.
Jane grabbed Nick’s hand. ‘Come on, time to show me how you strut your stuff,’ she said.
‘Go on, snake hips!’ Sandra shouted to Nick from behind the bar.
Nick laughed. ‘I’ll never be allowed back in here again after this.’
Some people formed a line and started the Brooklyn hustle dance associated with the film Saturday Night Fever. They moved in unison, forward and back, doing a three-step turn and clap, then moving their right hands diagonally across their bodies, pointing first to the floor and then to the ceiling.
Nick and Jane danced to one side.
‘Do you want to join in?’ Jane asked.
‘I’ll give it a go,’ he said, and they moved into the line.
Jane was surprised at how good a dancer Nick was. When the song was over, Nick held Jane’s hand and walked her back to their table.
‘You all wanna have some more party fun?’ the lead singer shouted and a loud chorus of ‘yeahs’ filled the air. ‘OK, let’s get down with a little number by The Gap Band. Say oops upside your head, say oops upside your head...’
There was another loud roar of approval and Nick took hold of Jane’s hand.
‘Come on, that’s the rowing boat song,’ he said, as people sat splay-legged on the dance floor behind each another, moving their hands and torsos backwards and forwards, as if rowing a boat, then swaying from side to side slapping the floor twice on each side.
‘I don’t really want to get my dress all dirty on the dance floor,’ Jane said.
Nick took off his jacket. ‘Sir Walter Raleigh to your rescue.’
‘I can’t sit on your nice jacket.’
‘Yes, you can,’ he said, pulling her up from her chair.
As Nick sat on the floor, his legs either side of Jane, he eased his body forward. As he pressed against her, she felt an unexpected tingle of sexual arousal. She didn’t think he was doing it deliberately but wouldn’t have minded if he was.
When the song was over, Nick put out his hand. Jane gripped it tightly and he pulled her up quickly from the floor, she stepped forward, put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.
‘That was great fun. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself so much.’ She hugged him.
He pulled her closer. ‘You’re an amazing woman, Jane. I’ve had a great time, too.’
His soft breath on her ear and the sweet smell of his aftershave sent another sensuous tingle through her body. She held his hand as they left the dance floor.
‘Do you want to stay a bit longer.’
‘I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘It’s up to you.’
‘Let me know when you want to leave then, and I’ll get Sandra to call a cab for you.’
‘I hope you’re not thinking of driving home.’
‘No way. I only live over the road. I can pick up my car tomorrow.’
‘I can walk with you and get a cab from yours... if that’s OK with you.’
He looked surprised. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. The truth is, I’d like to see your place. Is it a house you designed and built?’
‘No. It was built in the 1930s. My mum and dad used to live there until they moved into the chapel and rented it out. I rented a place locally, then when I was thirty, Dad said I could move in. I’ve modernised the interior, though.’
‘Shall we go then?’
As they left the pub the cold fresh air hit Jane making her feel light-headed. She stopped, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
‘Are you OK?’ Nick asked, looking concerned.
‘Fine thanks... just a rush of blood to the head.’
‘You had me worried there.’ He smiled and held her hand.
‘The houses are big around here,’ she remarked as they walked to Nick’s house.
‘Farnborough Park is a private estate,’ he told her. ‘Some of the houses are new-builds and others are Victorian. Many of them were built in the Twenties and Thirties.’
‘Did you design any of them?’
‘A few of the newer ones. Nearly there... it’s just round the corner.’
As they walked onto the large crazy-paved driveway, Jane was surprised at the size of the elegant red-brick house, which was three times as big as hers.
‘It’s lovely house,’ she said. She noticed a green Range Rover parked in front of the garage to her left.
‘Is your father here?’ she asked, thinking it might be his car.
‘No, that’s my car. I use it for work. It’s more suitable for muddy building sites than the Jag.’
Nick opened the front door and switched on the chandelier light, revealing a hallway with cream-coloured walls and a hardwood floor. Nick took Jane’s coat and hung it in a cupboard under the stairs.
‘Come on through to the kitchen. There’s a bathroom just there on the left if you need it.’
The large open-plan kitchen-diner had a terracotta tiled floor and oak cabinets. The centre island had a stainless-steel sink and a four-ring electric hob with an extractor above. The dining table, by the sliding patio doors, was made of golden oak, with a set of six matching chairs with black leather seats.
‘I love your kitchen. There’s so much workspace... and even a dishwasher!’
‘I redesigned it a couple of years ago, but I didn’t build it. Originally there was a wall between the dining area and the kitchen,’ Nick said as he opened the fridge and removed a bottle of Chablis.
‘Would you like a glass of wine or a coffee perhaps.’
‘A small glass would be nice, thanks.’
Nick poured some Chablis into two crystal wine glasses and handed one to Jane.
‘What’s that thing above the cooker?’ she asked.
‘It’s a microwave oven. It uses tiny, electromagnetic waves to cook food more evenly. They say it can cook a joint of meat six times faster than a conventional oven. I haven’t really used it much yet.’
Jane peered through the patio doors. ‘Is that a conservatory you’ve got in the garden?’
Nick flicked some switches next to the patio door, lighting up the conservatory and revealing a swimming pool inside it, with a gentle wave of steam fog floating above the water.
Jane was astonished. ‘Blimey, this place is full of surprises. I’d have brought my swimsuit if I’d known,’ she joked.
‘Actually, I’ve got one in the utility room if you fancy a dip. My friend’s wife left it behind the other week. She’s about the same size as you, I reckon.’
‘Go on then,’ she said. ‘But only if you’re getting in as well.’
Nick fetched the swimsuit from the utility room and showed Jane upstairs to his bedroom, which seemed bigger than her living room, though she wondered if the floor-to-ceiling mirrored wardrobe doors made the room look bigger than it actually was. She liked the minimal décor of the geometrically shaped room, with its grey side cabinets, steel side lamps and multicoloured abstract oil painting above the king-size bed.
Nick opened the door to the en suite bathroom, grabbed his dressing gown and handed it to Jane. ‘I’ll get changed in the spare room, grab some towels then see you downstairs.’