Such Visitors by Angela Huth Page B

years of secret plotting husbands, Mr Cake. I can tell the look in their eyes. I’m the heroine of many confidences. I’ve sent so many on their waltzing way, happy. Thirty years.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Henry inwardly marvelled, already happier at the prospect that he might be added to her list of successes.
    â€˜Right. So, let’s get down to it, shall we? We begin like this. By relaxing.’ Her fingers loosened a little on his hand. ‘What I’m going to do is to ask you to shut your eyes, to hold up your head, as if you were sniffing something nice, like spring in the air, and then let yourself feel the blood flowing right down through your body and into your feet.’
    And just how does blood flow through bone, Henry wondered. He watched as Madame Lucille, close beside him, shut her eyes and sniffed. She seemed to be all puffed up, somehow, in a way that he could not imagine he would be able to imitate. She opened her eyes and looked at his feet. He felt his toes wince in the privacy of his shoes.
    â€˜So many beginners are frightened of their feet, Mr Cake. The first thing to learn is: they’re nothing to be afraid of. You must learn to feel they’re a part of you,
at one
with you. Not things you take off, like shoes.’
    Madame Lucille had put into words something that Henry had suffered all the years of his marriage to Joan: fear of his feet. Now that the words had been said out loud he gave a small sigh of relief. The merest trace of courage quickened his stiff-boned body. He should have sought Madame Lucille’s help years ago …
    â€˜Now, on with the dance,’ she was saying. ‘I think we’ll start with the waltz.’
    â€˜My wife loves a waltz,’ said Henry. ‘The Blue Danube.’
    That’s a fast waltz, Mr Cake. Lesson eight or nine, depending on progress. If you can be just a little bit patient…’
    She took his hand again, and pointed her toe.
    â€˜Still raining?’ asked Joan, when Henry arrived home.
    â€˜Pouring.’
    â€˜I haven’t been out, what with my hair.’
    She patted the rollers. Henry had never been quite able to accustom himself to the sight of his wife in rollers, but knowing they were necessary to the dazzling pyramid she concocted for nights out, it was a feeling he kept to himself.
    â€˜Anything untoward?’
    Henry gave a small inward jump. Surely his face betrayed no trace of guilt?
    â€˜That’s a funny word, for you.’
    â€˜I heard it on the radio. It appealed to me. You know I like to adopt new words. You know what I am for extending my vocabulary.’
    Henry laughed.
    â€˜I love your sense of self-education,’ he said.
    â€˜It’s you who should have more sense of self-education. In some areas, I mean. The arts. Who cares about
gas?’
All their married life, Joan had scorned Henry’s job with the Gas Board. ‘There are some things any man who calls himself a man should know how to do.’
    Henry sighed. ‘Come on, Joan.’
    â€˜I’ve pressed your suit,’ she said, lips pursed.
    â€˜What for?’
    â€˜Tonight.’
    â€˜What’s happening tonight?’
    â€˜The do up at the Winter Gardens. Live band.’
    â€˜But I thought there was nothing else on this week?’
    â€˜Maybe it slipped my mind to tell you.’ She paused. ‘I could always go on my own, of course, if you didn’t fancy coming.’
    â€˜Don’t be daft,’ Henry snorted. She had never made such an outrageous suggestion before in her life.
    â€˜I dare say I’d be all right. I wouldn’t mind.’
    â€˜Well, I would. Letting my wife out alone at a glittering function.’
    â€˜My age, I don’t suppose I’d be fighting off the rapists.’ She watched her husband stiffen. ‘It’s all over by midnight.’
    â€˜There’s no question of it.’
    â€˜It’s quite inhibiting, sometimes,