Dancing in the Dark by Maureen Lee Read Free Book Online

there was a light on in Flo’s flat. Me feller’s just got home and I wondered if you’d like a bite to eat with us.” She came into the room without waiting to be asked, as if it was something she was used to doing.
    “What does your daughter do?” ( was astonished to learn that Charmian was grandmother to the children I’d seen earlier.
    “She’s learning to use a computer. It was when Jay, that’s me son, went to university last year, she decided it was time she used her brain.” Charmian’s brown eyes danced. “I told her she’d regret getting married at sixteen.
    I said, “There’s more things to life than a husband and a family, luv,” but kids never listen, do they? I didn’t listen to me own mam when I got married at the same age.”
    “I suppose not.”
    “Are you married? Y’know, I don’t know your name.”
    “Millie Cameron, and no, I’m not married.” I wished the woman would leave so I could get down to work. It seemed imperative suddenly that I take at least half a dozen boxes of stuff to Oxfam tomorrow. To my dismay, she sank gracefully into the armchair, her long bead earrings swinging against her gleaming neck.
    “I didn’t know Flo had any relatives left after her sister Sally died,” she said, “apart from Sally’s daughter who went to live in Australia. It wasn’t until Bel gave me a number to ring after the funeral that I knew there was another sister.”
    Bel, the woman in the photographs. “After the funeral?”
    “That’s right, Martha Colquitt. Is she your gran?” I nodded. “I felt terrible when the poor woman burst into tears, but Bel said that was the way Flo wanted it.”
    Charmian glanced sadly round the room. “I can’t get used to her not being here. I used to come and see her several times a day over the last year when she was stuck indoors with her terrible headaches.”
    “That was very kind of you,” I said stiffly.
    “Lord, girl, it was nothing to do with kindness. It was no more than she deserved. Flo was there for me when I needed her—she got me a job in the launderette when me kids were little. It changed me life.” She leaned against the crocheted cover and, for a moment, looked as if she might cry. Then, once again, her eyes swept the room.
    “It’s like a museum, isn’t it? Such a shame everything’s got to go. People always fetched her ornaments back from their holidays.” She indicated the brass plaques on the beams. “We brought her the key and the little dog from Clacton. This was Flo’s favourite, though—and mine.” She eased herself smoothly out of the chair and switched on the lamp on top of the television.
    I had already noticed the cut-out parchment lamp with its wooden base and thought it tasteless. It reminded me of a cheap Christmas card: a line of laughing children dressed as they might have been in this very square a hundred years ago, fur hats, fur muffs, lace-up boots.
    “I’ll switch the main light off so you can see the effect once the bulb warms up,” Chairman said.
    To my surprise, the shade slowly began to revolve. I hadn’t realised there was another behind it that turned in the opposite direction. The children passed a toyshop, a sweetshop, a church, a Christmas tree decorated with coloured lights. Shadows flitted across the ceiling of the long, low room. Hazy, almost lifesize figures passed over my head.
    “Tom brought her that from Austria of all places.”
    I felt almost hypnotised by the moving lamp. “Tom?”
    “Flo’s friend. She loved sitting watching her lamp and listening to her record. The lamp was still on when I came down the day they found her dead in the park. Did you know she got run over?”
    “My mother said.”
    “They never found who did it. Oh dear!” Now Charmian did begin to cry. “I don’t half miss her. I hate the thought of her dying all alone.”
    “I’m terribly sorry.” I “went over and awkwardly touched the woman’s arm. I hadn’t the faintest notion how you