Page 75 of Sunrise over Strawberry Hill Farm

‘Of course you have,’ Grams told her, tapping her feet in time to the music.

It was still a shock to see Grams in her finest clothes, a skirt and sparkly top, looking so glamorous. A vast difference to the farmer that Flora had grown up with.

But Grams was certainly looking much happier these days, she thought. More relaxed.

‘This is great,’ said Nico, standing next to Flora, tapping his feet in time to the rhythm.

They had both intended just to pick up some cleaning materials from the cash and carry, but Grams and Eddie had persuaded them to pop in and see the senior dance class before they left Aldwych and headed back to Cranfield.

Despite the advanced age of the people dancing, there was still a vibrancy about the place, thought Flora as she looked around. Most of the women were dressed in either sequins or bright colours and she felt almost drab in her T-shirt and shorts.

She looked at Nico and wondered whether he felt the same, but he never seemed to worry about his appearance, she thought. Although even when he was dressed down, he still looked pretty impressive.

He turned his head suddenly to catch her looking at him and raised his eyebrows. ‘What?’

She smiled. ‘I didn’t think this was your kind of place at all,’ she told him.

He shook his head and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. ‘Let me tell you, Italy not only has its art, heritage and food, but it’s also always full of music. My country loves to dance. And this all feels very familiar. We call itballo liscio. Ballroom dancing.’

‘You know how to do this?’ she asked, gesturing at the packed dance floor.

‘Oh yes,’ he said, nodding and straightening up once more. ‘Nonna’s favourite dance was the waltz. She taught me when I was growing up.’

‘Then I insist on a dance,’ said Grams, who had been listening into the last part of their conversation.

Nico looked delighted. ‘I’d be honoured,’ he said, with a small bow.

Then he took Grams’ hand and led her onto the dance floor.

Flora watched in amazement as they both danced perfectly in time. She wasn’t sure who she was more surprised at. Her grandmother gliding across the dance floor, or Nico’s perfectly straight back and hold as he spun her around in time to the music.

When they had finished, the dance teacher who had been standing nearby, clapped her hands. ‘Oh, well done!’ she said, as Nico and Grams returned from the dance floor. ‘That was quite marvellous.’

‘What a dancer!’ said Grams, grinning from ear to ear.

‘Prego,’ replied Nico with a smile. ‘I had a good teacher.’

Eddie nodded in agreement. ‘I gotta say, respect, lad. I wish I could dance like that.’

‘Of course you can,’ said Grams, holding out her hand for Eddie. ‘Come on. Let’s show the youngsters how it’s done.’

The pensioners headed into the middle of the dance floor and began to twirl around, leaving Flora alone with Nico.

‘That was pretty impressive,’ she told him, laughing. ‘Maybe we should put on dance classes at the campsite.’

‘Maybe we both should,’ he replied, with a gleam in his eye and holding out his hand for her take. ‘Your turn.’

‘Oh, I can’t do that,’ said Flora immediately, shaking her head. ‘I’ve got two left feet.’

But he wasn’t listening to her protestations.

‘Andiamo,’ he said, putting his arm around her. ‘Come on. Let’s go.’

She felt his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd. His touch burned through the T-shirt and onto her skin and she didn’t know what she was more nervous about – getting the right dance moves or having Nico so close to her.

Once on the dance floor, he came to stand in front of her and held out his arms. But the music had changed from a waltz to a swaying, rhythmic samba beat that was blaring out from the speakers.

The dancers around them changed their moves and were suddenly swaying close with every part of their bodies touching as they moved back and forth to the music.