Two girls are at the microphone trying to belt the life out of “Prisoner”, making up in volume what they lack in talent. They are tipsy enough to stumble over the verses, but really go for it on the chorus. Miley Cyrus and Dua Lipa can rest well knowing they are not likely to be replaced by their wannabes. Watching them seems to have given Bella an idea. She is bouncing on her toes.
“Ooh, ooh! Do you remember when we did that student show? TheMamma Miathing?”
“Yes.” The word is drawn out and cautious. Bella is plotting something and Anna is reluctant to sound enthusiastic until she knows what it is.
“Let’s do that. You and me.” Bella waggles a finger between the two of them. “Abba. ‘Dancing Queen’.”
Anna looks dubious. “It was a long time ago. I’m not sure I remember all the moves.”
But Bella is too excited. “Who cares? It’s just a bit of fun. Come on, let’s do it!”
“Okay, okay. Provided you promise not to sulk if I turn wrong and accidentally smack you in the face.”
Bella turns her eyes on James. “Will you go and set it up, babe? I need the loo.” She swans off.
James, ever obedient, sets off to talk to the karaoke host.
And Anna goes to the bar. “Grab a table,” she instructs John.
She returns with four beers. John is already seated, kicked back with one ankle resting on his knee, his crotch displayed to the world. He grabs a bottle and swigs.
“Fucking gnat’s piss,” he says, sounding more and more like a truculent teenager showing off.
“Feel free to buy yourself something different,” Anna says, sweetly insincere. “The rest of us have work in the morning.” She takes the seat furthest from him.
James returns before Bella. “Cheers,” he says, waving his beer at John as if he were the one who bought it. The act on stage has changed. The girls have staggered off and a lone guy is up. He looks like the archetypal gas station attendant in Hollywood films – pale, thin and sporting a baseball cap with the peak turned backwards. The first bars of the song are unrecognisable to Anna, but the audience seems to know it. There’s an appreciative hum. By the time Bella returns, the audience ishelping him out on the chorus line, raising their beers in the air as they and the singer revel in being young and drunk and alone.
By the time the next chorus comes along, Bella and John are chanting along. Anna is happy to watch them. As long as John is singing, he’s less likely to annoy her. The “Dial Drunk” guy gets to the end and a huge cheer erupts with embedded wolf whistles. He wasn’t that good, so he’s either got a lot of friends or the song is really popular. A few more songs follow. Anna is content to sip her beer, listen to the acts, and let the others carry on the conversation.
She is surprised to hear the host call “James Morland”. James stands as Bella gasps. He picks up the mic and he sings to the club about how he’s found a love, looking directly at Bella. She blows him a kiss. He makes a creditable stab at Ed Sheeran’s classic. Every time he reaches the line about looking perfect tonight, his eyes find Bella’s.
Anna should feel pleased for them. She should. But instead, she feels uneasy. She doesn’t begrudge them their love affair, but it would have been a lot more satisfactory if they’d fallen in love gradually. Or back in England, where she wouldn’t have to fret over every incident.
Mercifully, the fallout is short-lived as she and Bella are the next to go. Anna knows her voice is nothing to write home about. Years of music lessons mean she can hold a tune, so at least no one is going to wince as she veers off-key. Bella’s voice is lower, huskier. “Dancing Queen” isn’t a bad choice for them and they look the part. Anna’s dark hair and Bella’s golden tones mirror Anni-Frid and Agnetha. They do the movements, although predictably they mess up some of the turns. Yet, it is fun. It reminds Anna of the carefree youth she was before the world took a darker turn. A group of college girls on a night out stand and follow their gestures, dancing and mouthing along to the song. They end in a fit of giggles and applause.
Having acceptably acquitted themselves, Anna and Bella return to their seats. Anna makes sure she leads the way – not difficult, as Bella stays to wave and blow kisses to the audience. She grabs her seat back beside James before Bella can sit there, ensuring she is not next to John.
They return to watching, clapping and whistling at the best, talking over the worst. James heads to the bar to get the next round of drinks and returns with nachos and sliders. Anna is enjoying herself more than she expected. James can sometimes be staid – an excellent quality in a boss, but less so on a night out. Tonight, he is enlivened by Bella, whose energy appears boundless. Marooned as he is on the end, she can even forget about John.
That is until she hears his name. He gets up, a smug look on his face, and stands at the microphone. He licks his palms, raises his hands and uses them to smooth his hair back. Anna purses her lips together. Gross.
The first lilting notes are a warning. As John opens with the iconic words, Anna turns to look for the wait staff. She knows what is coming. Trying to do everything she can to head it off without actually going up to the microphone and wrestling it off him, she catches the eye of a waitress and signals. The woman heads over. With her eyes fixed on the server, Anna deliberately ignores John as he reaches the first declaration that he can’t help falling in love.
“What cocktails do you do?” Anna asks, ignoring the blond Elvis on the stage.
The waitress reels off a list.
John croons how it was meant to be.
“I’m sorry.” Anna leans closer to the server. “I didn’t catch that.”
As John implores her to take his hand, the waitress repeats her list, slowly and loudly.
Feeling like a dunce, Anna asks, “Uh. What’s in the margarita?”
The waitress looks at her as if she is an idiot. “Tequila, triple sec, lime.”
“Oh, I meant what sort of tequila?”
