Strictly My Husband: It's funny, it's romantic and it's got dancing - what's not to love! (30 page)

‘Are you sure you haven’t taken any drugs?’

‘One hundred per cent. You owe it to yourself and your marriage to get over here right now and sort this mess out.’

Chapter Thirty-Five

Jerry

The Queen of Hearts was doing his nails. Jerry thought he’d never been happier.

He was sitting on a bar stool having allowed Tweedledum and Tweedledee to take over the serving of the drinks to the happy bunch of thespians, singers and dancers sprawled all over his basement, either cuddled up on the enormous sofas deep in showbiz talk or doing dramatic formations on the dance floor. He felt totally at home amongst all the whooping and hollering and kissing and crying. He loved being around these hyped-up exaggerated human beings. It suited him. They were breathing longed-for life into what had been a sterile, emotionless home.

He took a sip of his margarita and smiled to himself.

‘Do you remember Margarita Pracatan?’ he asked Flora, the Queen of Hearts, who was carefully painting his middle fingernail in pink glitter.

‘Who?’

‘Margarita Pracatan. She used to sing songs and play the organ like a trouper on
The Clive James Show
.’

‘Who’s Clive James?’

Jerry laughed. So young, he thought. ‘The man who made Margarita Pracatan famous.’ He smiled. ‘Ooh, Baby,’ he said in a thick, vaguely Spanish accent.

‘Was that her catchphrase?’

‘It was. She had zero talent and was kind of crazy but boy was she entertaining. She really knew how to have fun.’

‘She sounds cool.’

‘She was. She made the most of herself – put it like that.’

‘That’s all this business is really,’ said Flora, pausing to take a sip of Jerry’s cocktail. ‘It’s ninety per cent confidence. I’ve seen people with loads of talent give up because they just aren’t confident enough and I’ve seen utter numpties come alive on stage and bring the house down. You got the confidence you can be anything in life, I reckon.’

‘Do you mind me asking how old you are, Flora?’ Jerry asked.

‘Twenty. Other hand?’

Jerry offered her his right hand. ‘Will you promise me two things?’ he asked.

‘Mmm.’ Flora nodded, concentrating on his thumbnail.

‘Just go for it. Don’t let anyone tell you you can’t.’

‘Mmm,’ she repeated, still staring at the thumbnail.

‘And have a laugh. Have fun. You’ve got to enjoy life.’

Flora looked up, smiling. ‘Do you think we look like the kind of guys who don’t have a laugh?’ she asked. ‘We’re all Margarita Pracatans. Minimal talent, maximum confidence, up for a laugh. Sums most entertainers up really.’

Jerry nodded his head. He could get that. ‘I think I’m a Margarita Pracatan actually,’ he said contentedly.

‘Of course you are. Why do you think you fit right in with all these misfits?’ Flora said with another smile. ‘I’ve never seen Margarita Pracatan but I just know you are the King of Margarita Pracatans.’

‘I am!’ agreed Jerry. ‘I bloody well am. Will you do my face?’

‘What do you mean, do your face?’

‘Make me up. Really over the top.’

She shrugged. ‘If you want.’

‘Then can I borrow your Queen of Hearts dress?’

‘Er, are you OK?’

‘Absolutely. Never better. Top of the world. I think it’s time everyone met the King of Margarita Pracatans.’

Chapter Thirty-Six

Tom

Why wouldn’t she pick up the damned phone? thought Tom, putting his mobile away in frustration for the umpteenth time. He’d tried to ring her as soon as everyone had started to move on to Jerry’s house. He wanted to know where she’d gone. He wanted to tell her what Phillip had said about Head Office wanting him to look at the entertainment offering in the other attractions. He wanted to talk to her about the audition. He wanted to tell her he had never felt on such a high in his life given how much of a success the show had been and he had never felt on such a low because she didn’t seem to want to share it with him. In fact she didn’t seem to want anything to do with him at all given that she was ignoring his calls and messages. God, she could be the most frustrating person in the world.

‘Tom?’ said Carly, nudging his elbow. They were sitting on one of Jerry’s deep sumptuous sofas facing the dance floor.

‘Mmmm,’ he said distractedly.

‘Would you get me another margarita?’ she asked, holding out her glass.

‘Sure.’ Tom was glad to get up for fear he might fall asleep.

‘And Elspeth?’ she added, nudging her neighbour to hand over her glass.

‘No problem.’ He took both glasses and walked towards the bar. He heard them laugh behind him. It made him feel old.

He sneaked up behind his brother, who was leaning against a wall, still dressed in his electrician’s overalls and finishing a pint. He turned when Tom put his hand on his shoulder.

‘Oh, hello,’ he said. ‘How’s superstardom?’

‘You’re only jealous,’ replied Tom, giving him a good-natured punch on the arm.

‘I’m not actually,’ said Will, grinning as he looked down into the bottom of his pint.

‘Can I get you another one of those?’ asked Tom.

Will furrowed his brow and then looked up to survey the room. He appeared to be considering the request seriously.

‘Er, no, actually. Better not. This might be your scene but it isn’t really mine. I think I’m best out of the way for now – plus I’ve got an early start tomorrow.’

‘Party pooper,’ said Tom.

‘Yeah, well,’ said Will, handing his empty glass to his brother. ‘I can’t take too much excitement. You about tomorrow?’

‘Er, well, possibly not.’

‘You need a lie-down, do you, after your starring role?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Perhaps we could go for a beer tomorrow night,’ asked Will, ‘if you’re not too tired, of course?’

‘Sure,’ said Tom, feeling puzzled. It was unlike his brother to instigate a night out and especially during the week. ‘I’ll call you if I’m free.’

Will nodded. ‘Great. Be good to talk.’

‘Yeah,’ replied Tom, now even more bewildered. Will never suggested talking as a way of spending quality social time.

‘See you then,’ Will said, walking away quickly just as Carly snaked her way up towards them.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Laura

Oh no, thought Laura as she dashed up the steps to Hannah and Jerry’s enormous oak door. Illuminated by a spotlight, a couple stood snogging the living daylights out of each other. Their hands were inappropriately positioned, forcing Laura to sneak past them whilst covering her eyes to avoid being accused of voyeurism. She pushed at the door only to find that it wouldn’t open. She was forced to ring the doorbell, which – typical of Jerry – had the loudest chime available on the open market and alerted the amorous couple to her presence.

The man looked over and nodded, leaving his hand positioned somewhere up the lady’s top.

‘Didn’t realise it was a pyjama party!’ He laughed, casting an eye up and down her attire.

Laura looked down and realised to her utter dismay that she was still in pyjamas and Ugg boots, such was the fog she had been in when she left home. She pressed the bell again, praying someone would hear it above the throbbing music from the basement. What if nobody did? How would she stop herself punching the smirk off the young man standing next to her?

‘Didn’t realise it was an eighties party,’ she said as at last she heard the click of the lock.

‘It isn’t,’ he said, his smirk getting ever bigger.

‘Oh, I thought being felt up outside a party was an eighties thing,’ replied Laura, pushing the door open. ‘You know: really uncool and crass and likely to end in a sexually transmitted disease.’

She smiled gratefully at the technicolour rabbit as she pushed past him into the hall but now she was here, her confidence failed her and she considered turning round and going straight back home. However, Hannah came dashing out of the kitchen and grabbed her by the hand, pulling her upstairs before she could change her mind.

‘Hmm, pyjamas and Uggs, a great look for a wrap party,’ said Hannah, thrusting a drink into her hand.

‘I completely forgot what I was wearing!’ wailed Laura. ‘I’ve got no idea what I’m doing – or what you’re doing come to that. I can’t believe you’re really going to leave Jerry. The world has turned upside down.’

‘It’s been coming for a long time,’ said Hannah calmly. ‘You know it has. We married too young and I’m sure Jerry thinks he missed out. I think he’d love to turn the clock back, act like an idiot, sleep around, especially now he’s got the money to do whatever he wants. Once he’s got over the shock he’ll be delighted he doesn’t have his buzz-kill getting in the way.’

‘Buzz-kill?’

‘It’s what he calls me, to his mates. I’ve heard him when he thinks I’m not listening. To be honest, Laura, he’d have left me years ago had he been smart enough to think of it as an option.’

Laura didn’t know what to say.

‘Look at it from his point of view,’ said Hannah. ‘I’m giving him a free ticket to shag as many dancers as he flipping well likes.’

‘Is that how you’re going to tell him?’

‘It’s tempting. I think he might get that, whereas “I’m leaving you” may not compute for some time.’

‘So what am I going to do about Tom?’ Laura said quietly. ‘Never in a million years did I expect
you
to do something like this. It’s so confusing.’

‘Just tell him. For goodness’ sake, just talk to him and tell him what you are thinking.’

‘No.’ Laura shook her head. ‘He has to decide.’

‘But decide what? What do you mean?’

‘Whether to go to the audition and leave me behind forever.’

‘But he doesn’t know that’s what he’s deciding, does he?’

‘Well, he should. It should be obvious that’s the choice he’s making.’

‘But he’s a man, Laura.’

Laura looked up at Hannah. Hannah stepped forward and took her hand.

‘Shall we both go downstairs, together,’ she asked gently. ‘Try and sort this mess out?’

Laura sighed. ‘OK. I guess I’ve got nothing to lose.’

‘Do you want to borrow something to wear?’ asked Hannah.

Laura looked down at her pyjamas, which were held together with a safety pin. ‘No,’ she replied. ‘If he’s going to stay it has to be because of who I am, a slightly scruffy market analyst and not a glamorous young dancer.’

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Tom

‘So I’ve been meaning to tell you,’ said Carly excitedly, as they leant on the bar.

‘Oh yeah?’ said Tom, gratefully sipping a pint rather than the margaritas that he’d endured to fit in with everyone else.

‘I’ve got us somewhere to stay tomorrow night,’ she announced.

‘Tomorrow night? What do you mean, tomorrow night?’

‘Well, the call-backs for the audition are on Tuesday so we should stay down just in case. I don’t want to jinx it or anything but best to plan for success, hey?’ she said, raising her glass to his.

‘Yeah, course,’ he replied, pretending that he knew there might be call-backs. ‘You’re right. So where have you found then?’

‘Oh, it’s a girl I was in a show with a couple of years ago. She’s got a bedsit in Hammersmith. She’s rehearsing for pantomime in Carlisle at the moment so she said we could borrow it.’

‘Right.’ Tom took a long gulp of his drink. ‘So she won’t be there then?’

‘No.’ Carly shrugged, studying her glass hard. ‘No, she won’t be there.’

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Laura

Laura felt sicker and sicker as she and Hannah descended the basement steps hand in hand. They could hear some absolutely dreadful karaoke singing winding its way up the stairs, interspersed with the haze from a smoke machine that must have been ‘borrowed’ from Wonderland. Laura wasn’t sure what she expected to find at the bottom of the stairs but it certainly wasn’t what greeted them once they reached the last step and turned the corner into the room.

Laura gasped and then laughed before Hannah dug her in the ribs and scowled. There sitting behind a Yamaha organ at the far end of the room was Jerry dressed in a glorious red frilly dress, towering red wig and gaudy over-the-top make-up. He was belting out ‘Whole Again’ by Atomic Kitten for all he was worth in some kind of dodgy foreign accent and at the end of every line he punched the air and shouted, ‘Ooh, Baby,’ at the top of his voice. A crowd had assembled round him, laughing and cheering, and he had never, in Laura’s opinion, looked happier.

‘I agree. You can’t burst that bubble tonight,’ said Laura to Hannah, who smiled resignedly.

‘Laura!’ came a cry from behind them and they both turned to see Tom and Carly fast approaching. Oh God, if only she could talk to Tom without Carly being constantly attached to him . . .

‘Where’ve you been?’ cried Tom.

‘I, er,’ started Laura. ‘I, er . . .’

‘Oh, it doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘As long as you are here now. There’s something I need to do then I need to talk to you. Stand right there and don’t move.’

Laura stood stock-still, trying to ignore Carly’s semi-drunk smirk. This wasn’t a position she had expected or wanted to be in tonight.

The next thing she knew Tom was striding across the basement, making his way over to Jerry with the flowers she’d seen in the garage earlier. Laura felt like crying. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t stand there and watch
her husband gush over another woman. She had to get out.

She tugged at Hannah’s hand but her friend wouldn’t let go. In fact Hannah gripped her even harder.

‘I need to get out of here,’ Laura hissed at her.

‘Oh no you don’t,’ said Hannah grimly. ‘We are in this together now. We are not leaving this room until your love life is sorted out.’

Tom was now attempting to take the microphone off Jerry, who was resisting.

‘I’m performing,’ protested Jerry. Tom gave it an almighty tug, causing Jerry to go flying.

‘You can perform again in a minute,’ Tom said crossly. ‘There’s something I’ve got to say.’ He turned to face the revellers. ‘Can I have your attention please, everyone?’

Everyone hushed and someone thankfully leant over and switched off Jerry’s backing track. Laura thought she might throw up. She looked longingly at the exit.