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Posts Tagged ‘The magic bus’

Saturday met me with a list of house chores: supermarket, laundry and tiding up my room were my top priorities.  I made myself a strong espresso and checked the news on the net as I wrote down a more detailed ‘to do’ list.  Nothing shook me out of the happy tra-la-la-ing mode I had got into since the previous night.

Eduardo called and invited me to join him and his girlfriend Laura for dinner and a friend’s house party later in the evening.  I happily said yes to both events and carried on with the weekend’s duties until it was time to get ready to go.  The party had a colour theme and not the easiest one for winter: who wears yellow when it is freezing cold outside? I found a yellow top and decided it would have to do.  A few layers of coats would probably hide it, but there wasn’t anything else yellow I could get my hands on.  I picked a bottle of wine and left for the tube. 

Dinner was pleasant and low-key.  It was just the three of us catching up on our latest developments.  We also made plans for going to Arpoador for the forró night on the following evening, which got us all excited.  Eduardo and Laura had been regulars when they first started dating, but hadn’t been to their Sunday nights for quite a while.  I had only been once, in May, when I visited London during a time in which Fabian and I were on a break.  They did the best to cheer me up, back then, ‘An Argentinean, Gena? Find yourself a Brazilian and forget him.’;  and I did my best to follow their advice and had a great time, so I was looking forward to going back.

As us girls got our last adjusts for the night, Eduardo announced he wasn’t too well and did not feel like going out, but he helped us find our way to and back from the party with the tube and the night bus itineraries.  We faced rain and some uncertainties as to where to turn on our way, but made it safely – and early – to the party.

The night was a downer, we had some yellow drinks that carried a lot of prosecco in them, which certainly helped, but nothing much happened.  We were among the first to arrive but 3 hours later the party still consisted of a small group of girls roughly 5 years younger than me, gathering for some fun that didn’t quite unfold.  It certainly was not worth crossing the city to Farringdon on a rainy night for, and going back on the night bus would be a trek!  We said goodbye to our host and strode shivering to the bus stop, as we agreed it was lucky that Eduardo hadn’t joined us.

It wasn’t long until the N55 arrived, but the clock showed 2AM already. Luckily, the bus was reasonably empty, so we sat together and warmed up quickly.  Two stops later, the door opened allowing a merry crowd in.  When the tall, curly man wearing the black leather jacket validated his oyster card and moved towards us passengers, I could not hold my surprise:

— ‘Marcos!’

— ‘Eugènia!’, he opened his arms widely and fired his best smile.

— ‘I can’t believe it!’

— ‘Were you at the milonga too? How come we didn’t see one another?’

— ‘No, we were at a house party. By the way, Marcos this is Laura. Laura, Marcos.’

— ‘Hi Laura.’

— ‘Hi Marcos.’

His friend Pedro and a girl came to join us and stood up near our seats, so we went through a new round of greetings.

— ‘So you were dancing again.’, I resumed talking to Marcos.by Pierre Andrews

— ‘Yes, you should have come, it was a good night.’

— ‘Cool.’

— ‘Do you know if there is any tango tomorrow?’

— ‘Apparently the Holborn people are holding practices from late afternoon on Sundays.’

—   ‘Well, I don’t think it’s on.  I tried last week, but there wasn’t anything.’

—   ‘This is so strange, they sent out an e-mail announcing the practice.’

—   ‘Yes, but believe me, I was there banging on the door around 6 and I stayed there until almost 7 and no one came to answer.’

—   ‘Are you some kind of tango freak?’

—   ‘No. No.’, he laughed, ‘It’s just that as Pedro was coming to visit to check the prospects of moving to London, I wanted to map the city’s tango circuit.’

—    ‘Fair enough. Oh, shoot! My stop.’, I rung the bell and stood up hastily. ‘It was lovely to see you guys again’, I looked at the guys but mostly at Marcos, ‘See you tomorrow, right Laura?’

— ‘See you’, she said

— ‘Bye bye’, I said to all.

— ‘Bye’, they responded.

I got off the bus and walked a block to get to the right stop for my second bus home tra-la-la-ing happily again, the image of Marcos smiling with his arms wide open on my mind.

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