HIS MUSE

Looking puzzled as to why he looked guilty

"Raymond," she asked, "have I come at a bad time?"

"Yeah,you could say that.But we might as well get it over with.I've sold this place to this gentleman"

Jodie's jaw dropped, "Sold it?" she squeaked.Then she followed the direction of Raymond's gesture.

Williams had been leaning over the legal papers spread out on the antique pine table.He straightened slowly,seeing shock and dismay chase across the woman's face and the speed of her recovery.

Her hair,the colour of the chestnuts he'd used to swirl in a string when he was a kid,while her make-up was,to say the least, dramatic.

He recognized her instantly,the dance recital lady.

"I don't think we've met...Williams Corrigan" he said formally,moving his hand round the corner of the table,extending it for a handshake.

Automatically,Jodie took the hand in hers,liking the strength and warmth of his grip.

More than liking it,she admitted to herself,taking in his height,the unrevealing slate-grey eyes set over high cheekbones,his untidy hair that had the colour and sheen of burnished leather.

She swallowed,not liking it the tenor of her thoughts and said politely, "Jodie Scott".

He dropped her hand rather more quickly than polite, "The dancer",he said,an edge to his voice.

"I'm a dancer,yes"

"I was at your recital,the name on the programme was Scott-Davies"

"I still use my married name professionally," Jodie said,and did not ask if had liked the performance.By the look of him he might ask for a refund.

Married name.The two words fell like lead into William's brain.Was she married now? In the five days that had passed since the recital his dreams had been haunted by this woman,every dream culminating in an eroticism so explicit as to embarrass him when he finally woke.

He shouldn't have gone the recital,he thought.

He recalled how he had the opportunity to decline the offer to go for the recital

"A dance recital?"

"Yes,Williams,a dance recital" Ben replied with commendable patience.

Williams pulled off his headband,running his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair.

"Are you crazy? I've never been to a dance recital before" he replied

"Real men don't go to dance recitals? Then I bet it will be a new experience for you,but Susannah's cooking dinner first,steak and chiffon pie" Ben said off handedly

These were Williams favorite,as both Ben and his wife,Susannah knew.

Williams grinned, "I'll come for dinner,then clean up the dishes while you two go to the recital"

Ben returned the grin with a bland smile, "No recital,No dinner".

Williams favoured his old friend with a thoughtful look.At fifty eight,Ben was fit and tanned, his crop of silver hair and luxuriant white moustache looks interesting contrast to the sparkle in his hazel eyes and his erect bearing.

"So who's dancing?",Williams asked bluntly

"A young woman Susannah met in the grocery store one day.She moved to Halifax two years ago,to take over as artistic director of Oceans Dance.According to Susannah,she's done wonder with a company that was just about defunct" Ben replied

Williams replied in a resigned voice, "Susannah thinks this young woman and I have a lot in common and wants us to get together"

Ben looked at him crisply knowing how hard his wife gave up trying to influence Williams' love life three to four years ago.

"Susannah gave up trying to influence your love life three to four years ago.As well as you know-and not that there was ever much to influence" Ben said crisply. "She wants to support someone whose work she respects, that's all.Stop being paranoid"

Williams looked at him as he held tightly to his temper.There were two people he loved in this world,one was Ben and the other Susannah,and he had no wish to jeopardize either of those relationship.

Ben gave a reluctant laugh. "All right,I'll drop the subject.But I'm not sorry I brought it up"

Williams exhaled in a small shoosh of air. "What time is dinner?"

"Six sharp.The recital is at eight.So will you come?"

"Yeah,I'll come" Williams said ironically.He raised a hand in salute,then headed for the men's changing room,loosening the black belt knotted around his waist,aware of the tension still lingering in his shoulders.

A brief solo by the best of a young company dancers,another very humorous jazz number,and then it was the turn of the unimaginative named Jodie Scott-Davies.By now,Williams was curious about her.He might not like her name,but he had to respect her abilities as a teacher.

The curtains parted.The spotlight shined softly on a small crouched figure in centre stage.The music started,something subtle and impressionistic,with a haunting flute melody threading its way through a shimmer of strings.

The woman's curved body made it's first tentative movement.And Williams,who had come prepared to be thoroughly bored,sat up straight in his chair,his eyes riveted on the stage.

She was wearing a body suit of mottled green that moulded her like a second skin,while her copper-coloured hair bore a coronet if leaves.In a series of moves suffused with grace and control,she slightly became the essence of a tree.

She was wind itself.And then,with a consummate artistry that held the audience in absolute silence,she mimed the lumberjack striding through the forest,the hungry snarl of the chain-saw,and the slow,tangled crash of the severed trunk to the forest floor.The sap bled.The tree died.She lay stretched out on the floor,all motion frozen,all vitality gone. The spotlight faded,leaving the stage in darkness and the death unassuaged.After a moment of perfect silence,the audience began to clap,and Williams from a long distance away saw a few people rising to their feet.

The spotlight came on again,focusing on a slim,green-clad figure that was just only a woman,a woman bowing and smiling,entirely composed amid the tumult of sound.