\u2018Territorial,\u2019 Ingrid says in her I-told-you-so voice.<\/p>\n
I won\u2019t go into it with Ingrid.\u00a0 I decide to change the subject.\u00a0 Today she is wearing her super-brief denim shorts, straw hat and big hoop earrings.\u00a0 She looks like an ageing hippy.\u00a0 She grips the rail that leads to the caf\u00e9 like grim death as we descend the\u00a0 steps that bypass Waverley cemetery.\u00a0 Holding on to what? <\/em>I wonder as I gorge myself on spring\u2019s blossoming\u2014the jacaranda in morning blue, bougainvillea in brilliant scarlet, the heady scent of jasmine.<\/p>\n I\u2019d really like to see Aravind again.\u00a0 Maybe Simon was right when he said not to wait too long.\u00a0 Have I been stuck in a rut, waiting?<\/p>\n And for what?<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n Bacon and eggs.\u00a0 The smell wafts through from the kitchen and settles in the caf\u00e9 like a cloying fog.\u00a0 Here I am, side by side with Ingrid and Amanda, drinking coffee.<\/p>\n I\u2019ve told them Aravind has asked me to come for a visit.\u00a0 He\u2019s moved to Newcastle because he can\u2019t get a job in Sydney.\u00a0 He said I could come on a Thursday and we could dance Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights and go to the bowling club on the Sunday afternoon. Stay until Monday.<\/p>\n Amanda tips a half packet of sugar into her latte and stirs. \u2018Don\u2019t worry about Aravind\u2019s wife.\u00a0 Go for it.\u00a0 His wife lives in Sydney and he lives in Newcastle.\u2019<\/p>\n Ingrid darts a wide-eyed look from Amanda to me.\u00a0 She spoons out the dregs of her flat white.<\/p>\n Amanda\u2019s smile is mischievous now.\u00a0 Without allowing for a pause. for a rebuttal from Ingrid, she turns to me.\u00a0 \u2018You are going to visit him, aren\u2019t you, now he\u2019s invited you to come and stay?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018He\u2019s got two bedrooms.\u00a0 He said I was welcome to sleep at his house, if I feel comfortable with that.\u2019<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n It was late morning on a Saturday when I stood at the coach terminal in Newcastle, where the taxis line up, waiting for Aravind to pick me up.\u00a0 We had missed each other somehow, walked right past, so he rang me on the mobile to see where I was.<\/p>\n I am keen to tell Ingrid the whole story of what happened as we wait for the band to set up at the Crystal Ballroom.\u00a0 \u2018That was the first time I\u2019d seen him dressed casually in shorts, tee-shirt and a pair of walking sandals,\u2019 I tell her.\u00a0 \u2018Eccos, I think.\u00a0 Just like your Dennis wears.\u2019<\/p>\n Ingrid shakes her head, her shoulders set high and tense.\u00a0 \u2018So you went to see him after all?\u2019<\/p>\n I don\u2019t meet her gaze, but take a sip of\u00a0 my Kingfisher beer, and keep going with the story.\u00a0 \u2018Usually he\u2019s in his black ballroom trousers and a long-sleeved shirt.\u00a0 He opened the door for me to get into the car.\u00a0 It was parked right in front of me.\u00a0 That\u2019s what I mean.\u00a0 We must have walked right past each other.\u00a0 And you know what?\u00a0 His car is an Audi, not a BMW.\u00a0 It\u2019s got the four silver rings on the front and back.\u00a0 He said his other car has a cat on the front.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018A jaguar,\u2019 Ingrid puts in.<\/p>\n \u2018That\u2019s one symbol I do know.\u2019<\/p>\n Ingrid and I have settled ourselves in at a table near the front of the ballroom as people begin to fill the chairs that surround the circular tables.\u00a0\u00a0 Dennis is upstairs playing the pokies.<\/p>\n The big band begins with Glenn Miller\u2019s \u2018In the Mood\u2019.\u00a0 The trumpets, trombones and horns lead the way and a thrill rushes through my chest.\u00a0 Dancers in their evening wear, some in chiffon and satin and sequins, others in flounced skirts and sneakers, approach the floor.\u00a0 The chandeliers make a Goth-like contrast between the obligatory black of the clothing and the pale made-up faces.\u00a0 Quick steppers dance around the edges trying to avoid a collision with the Swing dancers who take the middle of the floor.<\/p>\n \u2018Hopefully, there won\u2019t be any altercations this evening\u2014especially when I\u2019m up there,\u2019 I say.\u00a0 \u2018I hate it when a dance partner gets angry with the other dancers or when someone tells you both off.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Exactly,\u2019 Ingrid agrees.<\/p>\n \u2018That\u2019s what happened when I was dancing rock and roll with Aravind when I went to Newcastle.\u00a0 It was a very crowded dance floor with a live band.\u00a0 Four women were dancing together near us and twice they told Aravind off.\u00a0 \u201cYou can\u2019t dance rock and roll here,\u201d one said.\u00a0 \u201cThere\u2019s no room.\u00a0 Do you know you\u2019ve already bumped into my friend?\u201d\u00a0 I stood with my back to the women trying to ignore them between the brackets.\u00a0 It was a rock and roll band after all.\u00a0 They spoke with such venom that I wondered if they were racist, him being Indian.\u2019<\/p>\n Ingrid lifts her eyebrows and sips her lemon, lime and bitters in unmistakable disapproval.\u00a0 \u2018What about his wife and children?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018The children aren\u2019t children any more.\u00a0 They\u2019re grown up.\u00a0 And they haven\u2019t even come to visit.\u00a0 It\u2019s been a year already.\u00a0 They call Newcastle a dump.\u00a0 He said they think most places are dumps.\u00a0 I asked where they would like to go. \u201cLondon or New York,\u201d \u2019 he said.<\/p>\n Ingrid stares into her drink and turns the glass.<\/p>\n \u2018I stayed at a hotel, not far from the coach terminal,\u2019 I continue.\u00a0 \u2018Just for the one night.\u00a0 I wanted to check out the lay of the land before staying longer.\u00a0\u00a0 And he\u2019s only got the one toilet.\u00a0 I thought that might be the case.\u00a0 He said that.\u00a0 He\u2019s thinking of putting a second one into the laundry so when people come to stay it will make things easier.\u00a0 He showed me his room with its big double bed and an outlook on to some trees at the back of the block of units and then the second bedroom.\u00a0 White bedspread, his guitar under the bed.\u00a0 He must have tidied up before I came over.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Well you would,\u2019 Ingrid states.<\/p>\n \u2018Yes.\u00a0 If you\u2019d invited someone over for dinner you\u2019d tidy up before they arrived.\u00a0 It was pretty amazing though that he\u2019d rung me as soon as I\u2019d got on the coach from Sydney to say he\u2019d like to have me over, either for lunch, or for dinner before we went out to the dance.\u00a0 I was very surprised.\u2019<\/p>\n Ingrid blinks, sips her drink.\u00a0 \u2018I don\u2019t give advice and I don\u2019t want other people giving me advice.\u2019\u00a0 She shrugs and sips again.\u00a0\u00a0 \u2018Just give me the details.\u2019<\/p>\n I keep going.\u00a0 \u2018I said to him on the phone, \u201cWhat a nice person you are.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIs there anything you don\u2019t like to eat?\u201d he asked.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m about to go out and do the shopping.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2018In my rush to assure him that I eat anything, anything would be fine, I forgot to say I\u2019m not crazy about seafood, apart from fish of course, and that I don\u2019t eat dairy.\u00a0 So I had my fingers crossed, and toes, when he served up a seafood chowder and garlic bread and a very oily fatty salad, forgot to say I can\u2019t digest fat, and I worried all night that I\u2019d get another allergic reaction to the calamari.\u00a0 But it was okay.\u00a0 He was so proud of himself for having made dinner for me.<\/p>\n \u201cMy first time,\u201d he said with a big grin.\u00a0 \u201cNow I know I can do it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2018Thank God I didn\u2019t vomit it all up.\u00a0 Anyway it was very touching.\u00a0 When he almost insisted I have another piece of the micro-waved garlic bread I had to say, \u201cI don\u2019t usually eat garlic when I go out dancing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d he assured me sticking his tongue out like a dragon.\u00a0 \u201cWe\u2019ve both eaten it.\u201d \u2019<\/p>\n Ingrid\u2019s gaze settles on me for an extended second, a pause just long enough to show she\u2019s absorbed what I\u2019ve said but she won\u2019t be drawn into putting her thoughts into words.<\/p>\n \u2018He\u2019d picked me up from my hotel,\u2019 I continue.\u00a0 \u2018And when we walked in to his unit the food was already on the plates that were set up on the table.\u00a0 He took the plates to the microwave one at a time to warm them up.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018So what was his place like?\u2019 Ingrid asks.<\/p>\n \u2018Very small.\u00a0 The little balcony off the lounge dining area looked out on to a brick wall.\u00a0 He liked it though.\u00a0 Seemed very proud.\u00a0 I asked him if his wife had helped choose it.\u00a0 She had.\u00a0 \u201cWhat do you usually eat?\u201d I asked when I realised he didn\u2019t usually cook a meal.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ll laugh,\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cBut I buy these frozen dinners and just heat them up.\u201d\u00a0 He went to the freezer and pulled one out to show me.<\/p>\n \u2018He\u2019d seated me at the head of the table and he sat opposite, down the other end.\u00a0 In the middle was the large meat and cheese salad and the bowl of garlic bread.\u2019<\/p>\n I tip some more beer into my glass and take a sip before going on with the story.\u00a0 Out on the dance floor in front of us, Natalie, the band leader, has stepped up to the microphone.\u00a0 Her voice issues meltingly from the stage in a rendition of \u2018It Had To Be You\u2019.\u00a0 The dancers are up close in couples, working together with their bodies in the backward flow of the Foxtrot.<\/p>\n I\u00a0 turn to Ingrid and drop back into the telling of what happened.\u00a0 \u2018Aravind had decorated the unit totally in white and green.\u00a0 I\u2019d asked him if that meant he had lots of pot plants.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cJust imitation plants.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh no,\u201d I said.\u00a0 \u201cImitation plants get very dusty.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo do the real ones,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n ‘Anyway, he had a small glass desk against one wall and wanted to buy a green or a white office chair.\u00a0 He seemed very proud of his colour scheme.\u00a0 The green leather lounge was one of five that he\u2019d brought from the family home in Sydney.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re not going to stay here forever are you?\u201d I asked when he told me about some of his decorating ideas.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy not?\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cI might.\u201d<\/p>\n Ingrid clanks her glass down then rolls an elastic band off her wrist and ties her blonde hair in a ponytail on the top of her head.\u00a0 She\u2019s dressed in a red flounced skirt and flat shoes ready to practice the new Swing routine that she and Dennis have learnt.\u00a0 Her hair ready, she folds her arms and leans towards me.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2018It must be hard for him living away from his family.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018He did it before for three years.\u00a0 That\u2019s why he knows he can do it again in Newcastle.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018So?\u2019\u00a0 Ingrid sips her drink, sips it again and looks at me.\u00a0 \u2018Did anything happen?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Not much.\u00a0 He hadn\u2019t rung either of the clubs to check if the band was playing on the Saturday night.\u00a0 They weren\u2019t.\u00a0 We drove around Newcastle in the pouring rain and had to keep getting out of the car into the wet.\u00a0 Not much fun.\u00a0 Anyway we ended up at some club way out of town.\u00a0 No proper dancing.\u2019<\/p>\n Ingrid blinks.\u00a0 \u2018No proper dancing?\u00a0 You mean you went all the way to whoop-whoop and didn\u2019t even get to dance?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018We bopped away to a live band but there was no eye contact between us.\u00a0 He watched the tennis on a video screen on the wall.\u00a0 I kept changing my position so his line of vision was altered, but he seemed to be able to see a video screen from each side of the dance floor.\u2019<\/p>\n Ingrid sniggers.<\/p>\n I\u2019m remembering when the band had begun to play a ballad from Nicolette Larson, a piece I loved so much to rumba to.\u00a0 A dreamy song that made me want to beg him to sweep me away in its sensuality.\u00a0 But Aravind looked right past me the whole time, disconnected.\u00a0 He wouldn\u2019t take me to the core of the music and suddenly I felt stupid for going all that way to visit him and for letting the soppy sentimental mood of the rumba overwhelm me.\u00a0 I don\u2019t say any of this to Ingrid.<\/p>\n \u2018Don\u2019t laugh at me, Ingrid,\u2019 I say.\u00a0 \u2018Don\u2019t be a mean bitch.\u2019\u00a0 I say this matter-of-factly, as though there should be absolutely nothing wrong with me going to see Aravind.\u00a0 \u2018At the end of the night he drove me back to my motel and walked me to my room.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t ask him in.\u00a0 Why would I?\u00a0 He hadn\u2019t even looked at me on the dance floor.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018You didn\u2019t want to be rejected,\u2019 Ingrid declares.\u00a0 She reaches across the table in a maternal manner and pats the back of my hand.<\/p>\n \u2018I really don\u2019t understand what the story is with him,\u2019 I say, after a pause.\u00a0 \u2018Maybe it\u2019s a cultural thing.\u00a0 Different cultures.\u2019<\/p>\n She gives a considered nod, like someone checking the list of ingredients on a packet at the supermarket.\u00a0 \u2018Indian men don\u2019t know how to romance a woman.\u00a0 They\u2019re used to having their relationships arranged for them.\u00a0 They think Western women are going to come along and sweep them off their feet and drag them away.\u2019<\/p>\n I laugh and take another sip of my cold beer.\u00a0 \u2018The funny thing is\u00a0 that when we went for a coffee the next morning after the Saturday night and I was in the Ladies Room and came back out, he told me the waitress had been very chatty.\u00a0 She asked him what we did last night.\u00a0 He told her we\u2019d had a fantastic night.\u00a0 I was pretty surprised when he said\u00a0 that.\u00a0 A fantastic night.\u00a0 What I remember is that there was a lot of sitting in silence.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018A friend of mine used to counsel a woman who was married to an Indian man and they\u2019re very close to their families,\u2019 Ingrid says waving her straw.\u00a0 \u2018They don\u2019t leave their wives.\u00a0 But you wouldn\u2019t want to get married again would you?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Having sex with someone changes everything.\u00a0 I\u2019d be happy to leave it at the dancing.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Yeah, right.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018It\u2019s true.\u2019<\/p>\n The band starts up again with \u2018Chattanooga Choo Choo\u2019 and, as the music swells, the dance floor fills.\u00a0 The dancers stride, glide or spin by.<\/p>\n Ingrid glances at her watch, gasps, \u2018Time is marching on.\u00a0 When are we going to get a dance?\u00a0 Where\u2019s Dennis?\u2019<\/p>\n I shrug, anxious to finish the story.\u00a0 \u2018Aravind rang his wife on his car phone when he was driving me back to the coach station on the Sunday.\u00a0 He wanted some advice from her about trying to get out of a dinner with some friends of theirs who were visiting Newcastle.\u00a0 His wife told him not to go if he didn\u2019t want to.\u00a0 He complained that all they wanted to do was sit around and eat.\u00a0 He told his wife that I was in the car and he was dropping me back to the coach station.\u00a0 \u201cWho?\u201d his wife asked.\u00a0 \u201cSofia,\u201d he repeated.\u00a0 Then he handed the phone over to me and I had to speak to her.\u00a0 It was all very awkward.\u2019<\/p>\n Ingrid leans over the table towards me.\u00a0 \u2018He just wants to be friends, that\u2019s all.\u2019 Her tone is impatient now.\u00a0 \u2018I told you before, Sofia, Indian men never divorce their wives.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Yes, you always know best, Ingrid,\u2019 my tone catches on resentment but I laugh.\u00a0 \u2018I should know that by now.\u00a0 I should listen to what you tell me.\u2019<\/p>\n The band has begun to play \u2018Let\u2019s Fall in Love\u2019 when Dennis enters and is spotted by Ingrid who waves at him across the room.\u00a0 He saunters up carrying a plastic cup full of peanuts.<\/p>\n \u2018There you are,\u2019 says Ingrid.<\/p>\n Dennis plonks the container on the table, then grabs Ingrid\u2019s wrist and leads her out to the floor.\u00a0 He steers her through the mass of dancers.\u00a0 I startle when there\u2019s a tap on my shoulder from behind.<\/p>\n A man extends his hand.\u00a0 \u2018Follow me,\u2019 he says.<\/p>\n He squeezes my fingers gently.<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n That\u2019s the thing.\u00a0 It\u2019s just like I\u2019ve always said.\u00a0 It\u2019s the excitement of not knowing.\u00a0 The possibility that something unexpected might happen.<\/p>\n __________________________________________________________<\/p>\n Libby Sommer <\/strong>is an award winning Australian author of\u00a0My Year With Sammy<\/em>\u00a0(Ginninderra Press 2015),\u00a0The Crystal Ballroom<\/em>\u00a0(Ginninderra Press 2017),\u00a0The Usual Story<\/em>\u00a0(Ginninderra Press 2018),\u00a0Stories from Bondi<\/em>\u00a0(Ginninderra Press 2019) and\u00a0Lost in Cooper Park<\/em>\u00a0(to be released by Ginninderra Press late 2020). She is a regular contributor of stories and poems to Quadrant Magazine.\u00a0Aravind\u00a0<\/em>and\u00a0Aravind Again<\/em>\u00a0are extracts from her novel\u00a0The Crystal Ballroom<\/em>\u00a0(Ginninderra Press).<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" by Libby Sommer<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[16],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-144","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-libby-sommer"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/aussiesummer.sharonrundle.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/144","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/aussiesummer.sharonrundle.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/aussiesummer.sharonrundle.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aussiesummer.sharonrundle.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aussiesummer.sharonrundle.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=144"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/aussiesummer.sharonrundle.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/144\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":300,"href":"https:\/\/aussiesummer.sharonrundle.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/144\/revisions\/300"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/aussiesummer.sharonrundle.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=144"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aussiesummer.sharonrundle.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=144"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aussiesummer.sharonrundle.com.au\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=144"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"Aravind](\"https:\/\/aussiesummer.sharonrundle.com.au\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/10\/DancePicLibbySommer.jpg\")
<\/p>\nAravind Again<\/h1>\n
![\"Libby](\"https:\/\/aussiesummer.sharonrundle.com.au\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/10\/Libby-Sommer-300x225.jpg\")
<\/p>\n