‘It’s a wig,’ said Lyra in a bored voice. ‘Now you’ve had a look at her, why don’t you go bother someone else?’
Clarence stood up. ‘Come on, Eden, it’s time for you to learn how to dance twenty-second century style.’
‘I don’t think so,’ I said. Back home I liked dancing, but the way people here were dancing was very different. ‘It looks complicated.’
‘I’m a great teacher.’ He stood up and held out a hand to me. ‘What do you say? Just one dance?’
Lyra rolled her eyes and Antoine looked away. Unsure whether I was about to commit a major faux pas or whether it would be rude to say no, I stood up and let Clarence lead me to the dance floor.
‘Are you friends with them?’ I asked.
‘I’m in the same class as your friend, Antoine. Orion too before he left.’
‘And Lyra?’
‘We used to date. I think she still has a thing for me.’
‘I kind of got the opposite impression. Anything else I should know?’
We were on the edge of the dance floor. I could feel the music vibrating through the wooden floor.
Clarence placed a hand on each of my shoulders. ‘You are about to dance with the most eligible bachelor in the room.’
‘Oh, really?’ I said, raising my eyebrows.
‘Really,’ he said. ‘Not only am I handsome and rich, but I’m also a fantastic dancer.’
‘You’re modest as well, huh?’
‘I’ve never seen the point of false modesty.’
‘Is that everything?’
‘Don’t believe everything you hear.’
Clarence pulled me towards him and then placed one of his hands around my waist. ‘Just copy my moves,’ he said. ‘It’s easy.’
I tried to find the rhythm of the music, but the beat was odd. I looked around me at the other dancers, but everyone was wrapped up in their own moves; no one took any notice of me. Thank God for the wig.
‘How am I doing?’ I asked.
‘Not bad for a beginner.’
I followed Antoine’s lead and, for a few minutes, I forgot about Ryan and the reporters and being in the wrong time. I forgot about everything but the heat and the rhythm and the deep thrum of the bass that made the dance floor gently vibrate.
After three songs, I could feel my scalp sweating and itching under my wig.
‘I think I’m ready for another beer,’ I said. ‘Or a glass of water.’
Clarence escorted me back to the table. The others were chatting and laughing and all of the tension from earlier had gone. I took a cold, sweating beer bottle from the bucket and held it to my forehead.
‘How about it, Lyra?’ asked Clarence. ‘Will you dance with me?’
Lyra narrowed her eyes. ‘I don’t think so.’
No one spoke for a second. Lyra and Clarence just held each other’s gaze, and I was reminded that these people had a shared history that I was not a part of.
‘Well,’ said Clarence after a few seconds. ‘It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Eden.’ He shook my hand again and left.
Antoine took a long, slender case from his jacket pocket and opened it. Inside were several more of the thin cigars he’d been smoking when we arrived. He offered them around the table. Lyra took one and leant in close to Antoine as he flicked open his lighter and held the flame to the tip. I watched, wondering if they were together.
‘You gonna dance with me now?’ Peg asked.
I leant close and whispered in his ear. ‘I just danced with Lakeborough’s most eligible bachelor. That’s a hard act to follow.’
‘I think I’ll cope,’ said Peg, taking my hand.
We walked on to the dance floor just as the music changed to a slow number. Peg held my waist and shoulder loosely, not too close, and we swayed gently to the music.
‘Clarence isn’t wrong when he describes himself as Lakeborough’s most eligible bachelor,’ said Peg. ‘There are a lot of girls in this room who’d like to dance with him tonight.’
‘But not Lyra?’
‘Clarence and Lyra have a complicated relationship.’
‘Are you going to elaborate on that?’
Peg shook his head. ‘Not tonight.’
‘What about you?’ I said. ‘Are you single?’
‘Between work and school, I don’t have time for a relationship.’
‘Got your eye on anyone?’
He laughed, but there was something about his look that suggested I’d embarrassed him. ‘No one.’
We left the bar just after midnight. As we shoved our way through the throngs, Lyra held on tight to Peg and he put his arm around her. It wasn’t until we were outside and we were able to walk more easily that I noticed Lyra had a pronounced limp.
‘The night is young,’ said Antoine. ‘And there’s a party boat just about to sail. How about it?’
‘You guys go,’ I said. ‘I’m pretty tired. I’m going to head home.’
‘I’m beat too. I’ll walk you,’ said Peg.
‘How chivalrous of you,’ said Lyra. Her wide smile didn’t reach her eyes.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Lyra,’ said Peg.
She kissed his cheek, but her eyes were on me. ‘Behave yourself.’
‘Hey, Eden,’ said Belle. ‘Are you coming to New York with us on Sunday?’
I shook my head; it was the first I’d heard about a trip to New York.
‘Come. It’ll be fun.’
‘I should probably stay in the hotel in case there’s any news about the trial.’
‘Nothing will happen over the weekend,’ said Belle. ‘And Monday is a public holiday. Come to New York with us.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I’ll talk her into it,’ said Peg.
‘If we don’t get a move on, that ship is going to sail without us,’ said Antoine. ‘See you both tomorrow.’
Peg put an arm around my shoulders and we turned away from the others. The next thing I knew I was blinded by a bright light. And then we were surrounded. Lights flashed in my face and reporters thrust microphones under my chin. I turned back to see if Antoine and the others could see what was going on, but my view was blocked by yet more photographers, their oversize cameras blocking my view.
‘Lovely wig, baby,’ said one of the reporters. ‘Where did you buy it?’
‘Who’s your escort?’ asked another.
‘Can you give us a smile?’
‘Have you seen Orion?’
‘Are you enjoying the twenty-second century?’
‘Will you be testifying at Orion’s trial?’
‘Is it true that you’re pregnant?’
I froze to the spot. We were surrounded.
‘No comment,’ said Peg.
‘Who are you? Her bodyguard?’ jeered one of the younger male reporters.
‘This is not the time or place for an interview,’ said Peg calmly. ‘We’d both appreciate it if you’d let us go home.’
‘Where is home?’ asked a female reporter.
‘Are you staying with her at the Lakeview Hotel?’
‘Excuse me,’ said Peg to the male reporter in front of us.
We stepped forward, but the man didn’t step aside. I was beginning to panic. Cameras continued to flash in my face. Fear began to coil around me.
‘Would you mind stepping aside to let us pass?’ said Peg.
‘Just answer a couple of questions,’ said the man. He pushed his microphone in front of Peg’s face.
Peg swiped at the microphone, sending it spinning to one side.
‘Hey!’ shouted the reporter.
Peg swung for him. One second the man was hurling abuse at Peg, the next he was lying on the ground, sprawled across his microphone.
‘Let’s go!’ said Peg. He grabbed my hand and we ran.
I glanced back. Some of them were running after us.
‘Don’t look back!’ yelled Peg.
We raced around the corner and along another street. Peg had a tight hold of my hand and was dragging me behind him. He turned abruptly up a narrow alley. The alley divided into two. We took the left lane and slowed to a walk. There were takeaways and bars, tattoo parlours, girls heavily made-up and lounging against door frames. Peg walked up to one of the girls, a heavily tattooed girl in a black corset and not much else.