I’ve been loitering suspiciously again, in deserted car parks and wide-open back streets.
Those passers-by who get a glimpse tend to stare at my gyrations then quickly move on.
If asked what I was up to by one of those rare patrolling police constables, my answer would be an embarrassed, “Err, practising some dance steps, officer.”
You see, as the days grow longer again, She Who Knows has become restless for more activity. Then one afternoon she returned rather late but flushed with excitement.
“I’ve found a dance session we can attend!” she announced.
Thankfully, this one turns out to be easy going, sociable and cheap. The Tower Ballroom is all very well but, apart from those Promenade gales, the cost can mount up – specially for afternoon teas (and the occasional pint).
Besides, my blood pressure is no longer that of an Olympic athlete and, on my last visit to the GP’s surgery, caused nurses some concern.
It was time to dust down my dance shoes and shake a leg once more.
We now go to a ‘pensioners’ hall’ and join in an afternoon of sequence and ballroom dancing, all to perfect time thanks to our organiser’s taped music. She also puts up a big notice so you can’t mistake what pace it is and which dance you’re doing.
“There’s whist and bingo other days,” a kindly lady reminds us, during the tea and biscuit break.
You may laugh but so do we. Older people dancing can be comical. Some can’t ‘twirl’ any more, or do much more than walk, but go through the motions. What matters is it’s good fun and active.
Yet, once in each other’s arms, couples forget those aches and pains, postpone worries over forgotten shopping or other trifles, and feel young and glamorous again.
However, officer, one still needs to practise somewhere!
* For more from Roy and his latest books and tales, visit www.royedmonds-blackpool.com