The Dance

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When she was a little child Roberta once asked her father, “Why does mummy go away so much?”

She was sitting on his lap and he was stroking her hair. It had been a few days before that Ishtar had gone off on another of what she called “Tours.”

“It’s mummy’s work, darling. Opera singers, if they have really good voices and are beautiful like mummy are asked to go and sing all over the world.”

“Mummy is very beautiful, isn’t she daddy?”

“Yes, my love, very beautiful,” he said with a sigh.

Robert, after whom Roberta was named, was manager of the State Symphony Orchestra. He and Ishtar had met when she had come to sing at a series of concerts given by the orchestra.

I don’t think it is an exaggeration to say that Ishtar and Robert can be classified as two of the beautiful people. They were totally infatuated with each other and they had made love late one night on the divan in Ishtar’s dressing room. That one impassioned act had born fruit, and Ishtar was pregnant with Roberta.

They married accompanied by the shouts of the media, not so much because of Robert, but Ishtar the famous opera singer.

Ishtar’s career came to a halt and at first she had cherished her marriage and then her child above all else, but it didn’t last. The siren voice of fame called her, and she resumed her career.

Ishtar would often be away for months leaving Robert to care for their daughter. Even when she was with them she seemed to be somewhere else in her mind and always in the process of preparing for the next tour.

Sometimes Ishtar would come home in order to sing at the State Cultural Centre and Roberta and her father would sit in the audience hearing and watching her.

One scene from an opera came to lodge in Roberta’s mind. Mummy didn’t sing in the scene, she danced, and was dressed in long flowing things. She was dancing for a king who said he would give her anything she desired if she would dance for him.

At first the music was wild and abandoned, and then it became shrill and pleading and other times it was deep and threatening.

Mostly the music was slow and voluptuous and Roberta felt little shivers of delicious pleasure ripple down her spine.

Mummy dropped the flowing things one by. They floated down to the floor slowly until at last there was only one left. The music became wild again, and then right at the end mummy dropped the last flowing thing, and she was naked.

A gasp went up from the audience as they saw mummy’s beauty; her tall, slender body arched; her long blonde hair flowing down her back. Although Roberta could not have understood it, what she was seeing was that wonderful blending of the body of a young girl with that of a mature woman.

The lovely classical features of her face, the swanlike neck and soft rounded shoulders. Breasts thrust upward, and sitting in the front row Roberta could see distinctly the long pink nipples. Ishtar’s slender torso flowed down to gently swelling hips and at the top of her thighs could be seen faintly the vee of blonde pubic hair and the firm cleft of her vulva; and then the long slender legs with firm thighs.

Again Roberta would not have known or understood, but the men in the audience felt a throbbing in their groins and the women suffered pangs of envy. Her own father had an erection at the sight of the stunning woman he still loved fervently.

There was a shocked pause and then the orchestra started to play and the king sang, but a storm of applause broke out from the audience and the orchestra and singer had to stop. The noise went on for a long time but mummy didn’t move until the orchestra started again.

The other thing Roberta remembered about that night was that at the end of the opera, mummy was crushed to death under the shields of the king’s soldiers because the king said she was bad.

Then all the people who had been in the opera came onto the stage but mummy came on last and the clapping and cheers were deafening and went on and on.

Mummy bowed and bowed until at last, the applause still going on, she left the stage and did not come back.

Roberta wanted to go and see mummy, but daddy said mummy would be tired and there would be lots of people who would want to see and talk with her. “Beside, my darling,” he said, “It’s long past your bedtime. You’ll see mummy in the morning.”

She leaned against daddy in the car going home wishing she could see mummy that night so that she could tell her how wonderful her dance had been and how beautiful she looked. That night in bed the vision of that dance stayed with her into her dreams, and the music throbbed and pulsated.

Roberta and her father were up early, but it was a long time before Ishtar appeared. She was dressed in a long loose fitting garment that you could almost see through and Roberta ran to her and put her arms round her – well round Ishtar’s legs actually – and said, “Mummy, I loved your dance and you looked so lovely when you undressed.”

“I’m glad you liked kızılay escort it darling, but mummy’s got to have breakfast now.” She disentangled herself from Roberta’s embrace and went on into the dining room.

It was always like that and it puzzled Roberta. Daddy was always close, ready to listen to her and hug her. Mummy, even though she was there, seemed a long way off. She sometimes said nice things to Roberta, but it was always in such a way as to make it sound as if she wanted to get rid of her.

Once Roberta had picked her some wild flowers and when she gave them to mummy, mummy said, “Thank you darling, that’s lovely, now run along.”

Mummy, if she wasn’t away on one of her tours, always seemed busy and never had any time. Daddy went away too when the orchestra went on tour, but not as often as mummy. When daddy was at work or away granny came to look after her. She was daddy’s mummy and Roberta loved her almost as much as daddy and… She wasn’t quite able to finish the thought.

When daddy was home, even if he was busy, he always had time for Roberta. When he called her, “Darling,” “My little love,” and things like that it felt warm and nice. When mummy said those things it sounded as if she was just saying words.

Before she started school daddy would sometimes take her on tour with him and they would stay in large hotel or motel rooms and the members of the orchestra would make a fuss of her. After she started school she only went away with daddy if she was on holiday, so granny had to come and stay a lot more.

Sometimes, not very often, mummy would be home when daddy was away. When this happened the house seemed to change. Lots of people came to visit – some of them strange looking people who talked in loud voices saying things like; “And I said to him darling…I said…you were wonderful tonight, and do you know what he said…you’re not going to believe this darlings…it’s just so utterly wonderful…He said, ‘Raymond, I couldn’t have done it without you; knowing you were in the third row of the chorus gave me inspiration’.”

Another voice said, “Darling, you must have cheered him up because I saw him after you’d spoken to him, and he was laughing.”

These people were not like the orchestra people. They either took no notice of Roberta or still talking in loud voices said things like, “Oh, darling, she’s too, too sweet”; “Oh isn’t she a precious little thing,” and then turned away from her.

Mummy would usually say to her in a sweet voice, “Darling, mummy’s very busy, do go away and play.”

As she grew older Roberta began to understand some of the finer nuances of life in their house. Sometimes she would come upon daddy sitting, staring into space with a very sad look in his eyes. She would go to him and touch his face and ask, “Are you sad, daddy? Is it because mummy isn’t here?”

He would smile at her but avoid her question and say things like, “Why should I be sad when I have my little love with me?” Then he would hold her as if he would never let go of her, and she would kiss him and say, “I love you daddy.”

Daddy would say, “And I love you my sweet,” but the sad look didn’t go away.

Then Roberta might ask, “Daddy, doesn’t mummy love us any more?”

Daddy would say, “It isn’t that darling, it just that her life is so busy and…” His voice would fade away and he would look even sadder.

As Roberta entered her teenage years she began to appreciate some of the finer points of adult relationships. Her mother was away now nearly all the time and it was when she was about fifteen she saw something that, being a knowing young women, she understood the meaning of.

Occasionally her father would come home late at night accompanied by a pretty young woman. Sometimes, but not often, the young woman would still be in the house next morning. It never seemed to be the same young woman, and one or two of them she recognised as female members of the orchestra. Others she thought she had seen working as usherettes at the Cultural Centre, and once, when she went to see a play with her father, she recognised one of the actors as the girl he had brought home two nights before.

Roberta’s reaction to these women was both understandable yet nevertheless irrational. She understood all too clearly that her mother had long ceased to be a true wife to her father. How could she be when they now spent most of their lives apart? Her mother was still beautiful even though she was now in her late forties, but it had become a brittle sort of beauty; she reminded Roberta of an old brass vase they had in the house that had to be constantly polished to maintain its lustre.

Having begun to experience her own sexuality, she understood something of the sexual needs of men and women, and that her mother must give nothing of her physical self to her father. Yet her father was still a very handsome man and had a warmth and kindness that her mother seemed to lack. His work brought him into contact with many kızılay escort bayan attractive women, so it was small wonder that he began to fulfill his sexual needs with them.

Yet for all her understanding of the situation the sight of these women her father brought home angered and sickened her. She did not so much blame her father, but the women.

“What right have they got to share his bed?” she would think consciously, but deep down there were other and darker thought and feelings.

It was not as if her father was any less warm and loving with her, in fact, with the advent of his bedtime companions he seemed more caring of her than ever. Although he also seemed more energised and outgoing Roberta noticed that the sad look still lingered on in his eyes.

Music seemed to be in Roberta’s blood, which is not surprising given the parents she had. So it was that she eventually went to the Conservatorium of Music to study the violin as her major. Her father, in addition to his management skills, was also by way of being a minor orchestral conductor. A group of the girls at the Conservatorium decided to form a small string orchestra and it was Roberta’s father who was chosen as conductor.

Roberta, being one of the members of the orchestra, came therefore to have a professional relationship with her father. Thus a close relationship became even closer. Her jealousy of Robert’s lovers now went so far as seeing that he didn’t cast his eyes on girls in the orchestra, or theirs on him, which in fact happened quite a lot. Not that she needed to worry, since Robert was too well aware that a sexual relationship with any of the girls, if known, would end his work with them.

During one of the vacations it was decided that the orchestra would go on a brief tour of some provincial towns. Since most of the girls intended to be orchestral rather than solo players, it was felt that the tour would give them some feel for performing in front of a range of audiences, rather than just the occasional concert in front of city people.

Perhaps it was the excitement of the tour, or simply the point Roberta had now reached in her life – she was nineteen – but something seemed to break loose in her during that tour. She finally admitted to herself that she was sexually jealous of her father’s lovers. Along with this she understood what she wanted from him, and at the same time knew it was wrong – forbidden. But like many forbidden things, it became even more desirable by being forbidden.

When she was little and she had accompanied her father on tour they had always shared a room in a hotel or motel, but that time had passed when she entered puberty. Now they slept in separate rooms.

There were nights on that tour when Roberta lay in bed crying, her reproductive organs distended with blood and throbbing. She felt her vagina lubricating and her tender young nipples hardening. She called out softly into the night, “Daddy, daddy, I love you, I’d never leave you or say ‘no’. Let me love you daddy…love you like a woman.”

At times she was close to running to his room and trying to seduce him, offering her body and pouring out her love for him. Instead, during the day and often when other students were around, she would make sure she was close to him, holding him and even kissing him.

Unlike many of her contemporaries she had not been promiscuous, having only briefly had an affair with a fellow music student. This had ended very quickly when Roberta discovered she was sharing him with three other girls. Now she had only one thought in mind where men were concerned, and that a hopeless one.

This mad mixture of love and lust for her father had the same effect on her as on other people when they suffer from unrequited love. It has a similarity to when people are, “in love”; it is said to be a form of insanity.

At home Roberta began to strip off and look at herself in the mirror. Her point of comparison was that oft remembered night when she saw her mother naked on stage. Looking in the mirror Roberta felt that she could not rival her mother’s beauty. True she was tall and slender, but she had her father’s dark hair and complexion. The two features she shared with her mother were brilliant blue eyes, and breasts – perhaps even more delectable than Ishtar’s.

She began to appear before her father in scanty clothing. She would walk in on him in the flimsiest of panties and bras, pulling herself close to him so that he could feel her warm flesh and smell her femaleness. She knew she stirred him, but he did nothing but suggest she put on some more clothes; “You’ll catch a chill like that.”

She saw him trying to move away from her emotionally, struggling to deny the effect she was having on him. The struggle even seemed to bring on impotence in him, and fewer girls came to the house and those that did stayed only briefly.

Robert hinted that Roberta had reached the age when she might want to leave home – have a flat of her own escort kızlay and perhaps share it with another girl. So as well as keeping an emotional distance between them he also strove for physical distance. He would try to avoid her hugs and kisses, and even began to resort to her mother’s ploys of years before; “I’m very busy, darling.”

But Roberta was like a lioness stalking her prey. She would not give up until she had taken it.

Yet Roberta, for all her tireless pursuit of the quarry, was at times in despair. She considered taking a lover to try and assuage her ever growing and ever more thwarted needs, but she knew in her heart that there was now only one man for her- the forbidden man who was constantly eluding her or fighting her off.

There came a time of utter desolation for Roberta. What her father had known for a long time was finally revealed to her by some fellow students who claimed to be in the know. It was not said to her directly, but she overheard talk in the university café.

Ishtar was due to return to the Cultural Centre to give a brief series of concerts. This brought her into the conversation of the music students.

“My God,” said one of them, “She’s a real horny bitch. She’s had lovers all round the world.” “I wouldn’t mind her on the end of my horn,” laughed another student. “I feel sorry for that poor sod she’s married to – do you know she’s going to divorce him and marry that…”

One of the girls saw Roberta sitting at the nearby table and whispered, “Shut up, there’s her daughter over there.”

Heads twisted round to stare at Roberta then turned quickly away.

Roberta felt sick. It was not so much that she cared about her mother divorcing her father; “It should have happened long ago,” she thought. It was the way in which she had heard the news, and also a feeling that the divorce might give her father a sense of liberation and a revived interest in other women.

Thinking about her mother a final desperate ploy came to mind. That dance she had seen her mother perform so long ago had always remained clear in her mind. She had often put on a recording of the music and tried to emulate her mother’s movements.

As a child she had borrowed tea towels and other pieces of cloth, and draping them round her and putting on the music, she would dance in front of the long mirror in her room, casting off veils as she imagined them to be, until she stood naked looking at herself.

Even in her teenage years she had continued this game, but using more suitable and diaphanous materials she had bought. Both her father and her grandmother had commented how often they heard her playing the music in her room, and she simply said, “It’s what mother danced to.”

She came in the end to be able to perform a fair copy of her mother’s movements, but without the same exquisite and professional grace. It was to be this that would be her last desperate fling.

She awaited her time; wanting to be sure they would be alone. Her mother, although back in the country did not come to live with them. This was expected since Robert had officially told Roberta about the impending divorce. Almost reverting to childhood she had stroked his face and said, “I’d never leave you, daddy.” She had kissed him on the lips, and fled from the room.

Now she held back like a lioness crouching and about to spring.

It was one night when Robert was sitting in an armchair reading some papers that Roberta made her move.

“Daddy, could you spare me ten minutes, I want to show you something.”

He looked up and smiled; “Of course, what is it darling?”

“You’ll see.” She tried to return his smile, but she was trembling at the audacity of what she was about to do.

“I’ll be back in a minute; I just need to get something.”

She raced to her room, stripped and draped the veils round her. She had already set the recording and only had to push the play button. She entered the room where Robert sat.

“You look very appealing, darling,” he laughed. “What are you going to show me?”

“Ssh; wait and see.” She pressed the play button on the machine and the music began. In time with the throbbing undertone Roberta began to drop her veils, moving with the sensual undulations of her body she had so often practiced. One by one they drifted to the floor. She could see that her father was mesmerized by her voluptuous movements.

The last veil; she paused waiting for the music, the final wild rush, the veil fell and she stood naked before her father.

He sat transfixed; she went to him and stood near but not touching him. “Did you like my dance, daddy?”

“Oh God, that was your mother’s dance, how could you knowing how I…” The tears came.

Roberta moved nearer to him and drew his face to her breasts. “You won’t have me crushed to death with shields, will you daddy, because you know I love you very much.”

He buried his face between her breasts, smelling her fragrance, so like…”

“You love me, don’t you daddy, you’ve always loved me.”

Through his tears he gasped, “Of course I’ve always loved you, but not like…”

“Not like a grown man loves a grown woman? I think you do love me like that and I can take the sadness away from you and you won’t ever need those women again and…”

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