gorgeous she was, when Jonno’s voice boomed through the nightclub.
“Good evening. Good evening. And welcome to Open Mike Night at La Villa Bonita.”
Jonno was speaking from the very front of the stage. An enthusiastic burst of applause followed his words, then the room fell silent again.
“The fun starts in thirty minutes. But to warm us all up, please put your hands together and welcome Band Bonita.”
We clapped as a line of grey-haired men traipsed onto the stage.
Ryan caught my eye. “They rock,” he said sarcastically.
“Check out the drummer,” Chloe said, clapping more fervently. “Oh my God.”
I strained to see past the other men to where a much younger guy was adjusting the position of the drum kit. He stood up and flicked back his black hair. He looked about seventeen or eighteen and was tall and broad-shouldered, with a strong, square-jawed face.
“Whaddya reckon, Eve? Definitely doable?” Chloe shrieked.
I glanced crossly at Eve. She caught my eye and looked away from the drummer, blushing.
Excellent.
“And, the star of the show, the amazing . . . the stupendous . . . Lola LaServa.”
From behind the stage Lola appeared. She wore a skintight evening dress, slit up to her hip and down to her belly button. Wolf whistles and clapping filled the room. I glanced across at Ryan. He was slumped in his chair, staring at Lola, one hand on Chloe’s shoulder, the other theatrically clutching at his chest.
Next to me Eve pressed her lips tightly together. I’d never seen her look so miserable. I reached under the table and squeezed her hand. She smiled weakly at me.
I didn’t want to upset Eve by watching Lola sing. But, frankly, when you’re in that kind of club, there isn’t an awful lot you can do except watch the band. They played swing music. The older guys were surprisingly cool, strumming nonchalantly away on their guitars or sitting slumped in their chairs, blowing lazily on trumpets and horns.
The drummer looked sulky and bored, tapping and swishing at his drums. Lola herself was extraordinary. Quite apart from the fact that she appeared in constant danger of falling out of her dress, she sang in this low, sexy growl, clenching her fists and waving her arms around. It was hardly my kind of music, but I could see she was good at it.
Lola sang her way through four songs straight, then left the stage.
“She’s amazing,” Ryan grinned. He raised his eyebrows. “ Outstanding , in fact.”
Eve narrowed her eyes. “Let me tell you,” she spat. “Those comedy boobs are the least fake thing about her.”
There was an awkward pause.
“Sorry, Ry,” Eve said. “I didn’t mean to . . . I’m just. . .” Her eyes filled with tears.
Unable to give her a hug I felt helpless. I glanced at Chloe. She rolled her eyes at me. “Eve?” she said gently.
Eve blinked back her tears. “I’m fine.” She turned to me, clearly wanting to change the subject. “How was all your homework?”
“Gross.” I remembered Mum’s email. “Mum reckons she’s having a boy, by the way.”
Chloe squealed with excitement. “A boy? I was kind of hoping for a girl – more dolly clothes, but still, we can. . .” She stopped and glared at me. “You’ve known that all day and you’ve only just told me?”
“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” I said. “It’s only gonna puke and poo and scream for the first few years anyway.”
Chloe slammed her glass down so hard that beer splashed out onto the tablecloth. “You insensitive retard,” she said. “Just ’cause it doesn’t mean anything to you.”
“Doesn’t it, Luke?” Eve frowned. “Don’t you care about having a baby brother?”
I looked desperately at her. “Sure,” I said unconvincingly. I glanced over at Ryan.
He waved me away with a look that said, You dug your own hole there, mate .
“You’re so immature. . .” Chloe’s words were cut off by the boom of Jonno’s voice echoing round the room again.
“And
“Good evening. Good evening. And welcome to Open Mike Night at La Villa Bonita.”
Jonno was speaking from the very front of the stage. An enthusiastic burst of applause followed his words, then the room fell silent again.
“The fun starts in thirty minutes. But to warm us all up, please put your hands together and welcome Band Bonita.”
We clapped as a line of grey-haired men traipsed onto the stage.
Ryan caught my eye. “They rock,” he said sarcastically.
“Check out the drummer,” Chloe said, clapping more fervently. “Oh my God.”
I strained to see past the other men to where a much younger guy was adjusting the position of the drum kit. He stood up and flicked back his black hair. He looked about seventeen or eighteen and was tall and broad-shouldered, with a strong, square-jawed face.
“Whaddya reckon, Eve? Definitely doable?” Chloe shrieked.
I glanced crossly at Eve. She caught my eye and looked away from the drummer, blushing.
Excellent.
“And, the star of the show, the amazing . . . the stupendous . . . Lola LaServa.”
From behind the stage Lola appeared. She wore a skintight evening dress, slit up to her hip and down to her belly button. Wolf whistles and clapping filled the room. I glanced across at Ryan. He was slumped in his chair, staring at Lola, one hand on Chloe’s shoulder, the other theatrically clutching at his chest.
Next to me Eve pressed her lips tightly together. I’d never seen her look so miserable. I reached under the table and squeezed her hand. She smiled weakly at me.
I didn’t want to upset Eve by watching Lola sing. But, frankly, when you’re in that kind of club, there isn’t an awful lot you can do except watch the band. They played swing music. The older guys were surprisingly cool, strumming nonchalantly away on their guitars or sitting slumped in their chairs, blowing lazily on trumpets and horns.
The drummer looked sulky and bored, tapping and swishing at his drums. Lola herself was extraordinary. Quite apart from the fact that she appeared in constant danger of falling out of her dress, she sang in this low, sexy growl, clenching her fists and waving her arms around. It was hardly my kind of music, but I could see she was good at it.
Lola sang her way through four songs straight, then left the stage.
“She’s amazing,” Ryan grinned. He raised his eyebrows. “ Outstanding , in fact.”
Eve narrowed her eyes. “Let me tell you,” she spat. “Those comedy boobs are the least fake thing about her.”
There was an awkward pause.
“Sorry, Ry,” Eve said. “I didn’t mean to . . . I’m just. . .” Her eyes filled with tears.
Unable to give her a hug I felt helpless. I glanced at Chloe. She rolled her eyes at me. “Eve?” she said gently.
Eve blinked back her tears. “I’m fine.” She turned to me, clearly wanting to change the subject. “How was all your homework?”
“Gross.” I remembered Mum’s email. “Mum reckons she’s having a boy, by the way.”
Chloe squealed with excitement. “A boy? I was kind of hoping for a girl – more dolly clothes, but still, we can. . .” She stopped and glared at me. “You’ve known that all day and you’ve only just told me?”
“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” I said. “It’s only gonna puke and poo and scream for the first few years anyway.”
Chloe slammed her glass down so hard that beer splashed out onto the tablecloth. “You insensitive retard,” she said. “Just ’cause it doesn’t mean anything to you.”
“Doesn’t it, Luke?” Eve frowned. “Don’t you care about having a baby brother?”
I looked desperately at her. “Sure,” I said unconvincingly. I glanced over at Ryan.
He waved me away with a look that said, You dug your own hole there, mate .
“You’re so immature. . .” Chloe’s words were cut off by the boom of Jonno’s voice echoing round the room again.
“And
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