Three's a Crowd

  Outside the air was boilingly hot. Only a few hardcore sunbathers were still lying on loungers by the pool. I found Ryan in their midst, eyes shut, listening to my iPod.

  I wrenched out the earphones.

  “Hey.” He sat up.

  “I’m so pissed off.” I kicked at his lounger.

  “Yeah, well, don’t take it out on the furniture.” He grinned. “Jonno’ll make you repaint it.”

  I sank down on the lounger next to his. “When do Eve and Chloe finish at the crèche?”

  “Four o’clock.” Ryan lay back and closed his eyes again. “But don’t go getting excited. That’s when we start waiting tables. Apparently the four-to-six shift’s the easiest though. Mostly tea and cake and clearing tables. No proper meals or actual waiting or anything. Catalina’s gonna swing by in an hour, pick us up, show us what to do.”

  “Oh?” I said.

  Ryan opened one eye. “You fancy her, don’t you?”

  “No,” I said.

  Ryan laughed. “You are the world’s worst liar, man.”

  I kicked at his lounger again. How annoyingly typical of Ryan to have sussed that I thought Cat was really hot.

  “Well, don’t you?” I said.

  “Sure.” Ryan sat back smugly. “But I’m with Chloe.”

  “And I’m with Eve,” I said, feeling more irritated.

  Ryan snorted. “Not so’s anyone would notice, you aren’t. And anyway,” he crossed his arms, “Cat’s with Marco.”

  “For God’s sake, Ry, I’m not going to do anything,” I shouted, suddenly furious with him.

  One of the hardcore sunbathers sat up and glared at me. Ryan shook his head, his eyes all wide and mocking.

  “Don’t embarrass the guests,” he mouthed.

  Another time I would have laughed. But right then I just felt too pissed off. I lay back on my lounger and sighed deeply. At this rate I was going to end up spending less time with Eve while we were on holiday than I did when we were at school.

  Catalina showed up half an hour later in the waiting staff girl’s uniform of black mini-skirt and tight, white blouse.

  As she led us up to where we were picking up our own uniforms (black trousers and white shirts) Ryan murmured. “One thing you gotta say about Jonno – he likes his female staff in hot clothes.”

  “Mmmn,” I grunted, trying not to stare too obviously at Catalina’s slim, brown legs.

  Clearing the tea tables wasn’t too bad. Better than being in the kitchen, which felt like a sauna. Not many people showed up, and Ryan, Cat and I were able to spend most of our two-hour shift chatting.

  Cat was even friendlier than she had been last night. She had this habit of touching me, all the time. A little stroke of the arm or a ruffle of the hair or a pat on the back.

  “It’s like she can’t keep her hands off you,” Ryan hissed as we passed each other on the way to the kitchen. I deposited my armful of dirty plates, then crossed the room to where he was refilling a china bowl from a large, encrusted jar of strawberry jam.

  “She’s like that with everyone,” I said.

  “Nah, mate.” Ryan grinned at me. “For example, take me. She likes me, sure. But with you it’s different. She’s totally hot for you.” He shook his head. “Poor Marco.”

  I shrugged. But inside, I had to admit I was pleased. Well, why shouldn’t I be? Cat was gorgeous. And it didn’t mean anything was going to happen – after all, I was with Eve, whatever stupid games we had to play to hide it from her dad.

  Cat left at the end of the shift, having extracted promises from both of us to turn up at the Garito that night.

  “It start later Tuesdays,” she said, looking up at me seductively. “Open Mike Night is popular. So many staff no free until late.”

  Ryan and I went back to our room to change. On the way we met Chloe who told us that Eve was having tea out with her dad and Lola.

  I swore. “When am I supposed to see her?”

  Chloe gave me a pitying look. “She said she’d catch us in the nightclub at nine. Her dad’s offered to buy us some beers at the Open Mike. What are you going to sing?”

  “I’m not,” I said shortly. Personally, I thought the idea of an evening where people could get up and sing whatever they wanted sounded stupid.

  Chloe put her arms round Ryan and gazed up at him adoringly. “What about you, Skankface?”

  Ryan grinned. “I am surprising you,” he said, “with my awesome talents.” He pulled her into a snog as we reached the trees.

  I stomped on ahead, muttering darkly to myself.

  The nightclub was buzzing when we turned up at nine. The whole place was dark, with soft wall lighting and a big disco ball over the dance floor. Tables and chairs had been placed around the raised stage, which was set with piano, drum kit and several chairs and microphone stands.

  Chloe told us that the open mike session ran from nine-thirty to eleven-thirty. “Then Jonno says they take the tables and chairs away and it turns into some middle-aged disco.”

  A waiter showed us to Jonno’s table, right at the front by the stage. We sat down and Chloe and Ryan started chatting excitedly. The atmosphere was tense with anticipation. Loads of people were already in the room and more were flooding in.

  My mind drifted to Catalina. I wondered if Ryan was right about her liking me. Probably. Ryan was rarely wrong about things like that. Knowing that she fancied me but that nothing would happen because we were both going out with other people was kind of exciting. Like a secret we shared that no-one else would ever know.

  Except freakin’ Ryan, of course.

  Then I looked up. And saw Eve walking towards me.

  And I forgot I’d ever met Catalina.

  8

  Open Mike Night

  Eve was wearing a short, shimmery dress that clung gently to her body as she glided across the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  She drew closer, smiling at me. Her face was so beautiful. Her soft, slender body so naturally, effortlessly, mesmerisingly sexy. My heart pounded. What did she see in me? How was I ever going to stop some other guy from stealing her away?

  As she sat down next to me, I leaned over to kiss her. She drew back sharply. And I remembered.

  Jonno.

  He strode up behind her, cigar in one hand. “Hi guys,” he grinned. A waiter appeared at his elbow and he ordered a round of drinks. Whisky for him. Beers for us. He winked at Ryan. “Maybe something stronger later,” he said. Then he strode off again.

  I ground my teeth. “I’ve had such a shit day,” I said to Eve.

  “Me too,” she said. “I had to spend the whole afternoon after work with Dad and Lola. She’s hideous. She’s twenty-three and she was all, like, ‘let’s be friends Evie’. That’s what she called me. ‘Evie’.”

  “Where’s she from?” Ryan asked.

  “California,” Eve said. “Via the nearest plastic surgery clinic.”

  This was surprisingly bitchy for Eve. I looked at her, shocked.

  “What?” she said. “She’s had her nose done as well. She told me. Oh, God, Luke. She’s a total cow. And she’s the singer with the band here.”

  She seemed close to tears. I wanted to put my arm round her, but I didn’t dare. So I leaned towards her and was about to tell her how 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 now, the Open Mike Night begins.”

  Drum roll.

  The table fell silent. I sat there awkwardly as the first couple of people got up on stage and squawked their way through some ancient songs I didn’t know.

  Why was everyone so upset that I wasn’t excited about Mum having a baby? I mean, the baby wasn’t even a real person yet. I just didn’t get it.

  And why did I keep getting it wrong with Eve? I looked across to the side of the stage, where Jonno and Lola were now standing, side by side. It was their fault, I decided. Lola had somehow upset Eve, and Jonno was determined to spoil everything for both of us.

  I was just about to whisper to Eve that maybe we could slip away later – no, that we had to slip away later – when there was a small commotion at the table and I looked round to discover Chloe making her way onto the stage.

  Avoiding the grey-haired pianist who appeared to be coordinating what people were singing, Chloe marched over to the drummer and began talking to him. He smiled, then started laughing. I looked at Ryan. He was gazing tenderly at Chloe.

  Then he turned and caught me watching him. “What?”

  I shrugged.

  “Luke’s wondering why you’re not jealous of Chloe talking to that guy,” Eve said icily.

  I looked away. That was, in fact, exactly what I’d been thinking. Ryan stared at me. “Chloe’s just having fun,” he said.

  The noise level in the room rose as people started chatting impatiently. The pianist strode over to Chloe and extricated her from the drummer. A minute later Chloe was singing. Some old ballad I vaguely recognised. She had an okay voice. Nothing special, but she was clearly enjoying herself so much that the audience burst into the biggest round of applause so far when she finished.

  She bounded back to our table, flushed with excitement.

  “That was so cool,” she said. “You have to try it. Go on Ry.”

  She hauled a protesting Ryan to his feet. I watched him. Even as he was saying “No”, he was edging closer to the band.

  Give it up, Ry, I thought. You’re just as much of a show off as she is.

  “You were great, Chloe,” Eve said, as Chloe took a sip from her drink.

  Chloe beamed. Ryan was on stage now, chatting with the pianist. He, too, wandered over to the drummer. I watched them talking. Ryan was pointing back at Chloe, presumably explaining she was his girlfriend. I smiled. Maybe Ryan wasn’t quite so immune from jealousy as he made out. Then the music struck up. It was another old swing tune. God knows how Ryan knew the words. He sang terribly. Barely in tune and rasping out most of the lyrics. But the funny thing was, it didn’t matter. Ryan had this way of flirting with the audience when he sang that made you forget his voice. He sauntered around the stage, pointing at people and smiling, like he was singling them out.

  Chloe leaned across to me. “Isn’t he fantastic?”

  As the song came to an end, Ryan received a big round of applause. He flumped back down in his seat looking extremely pleased with himself. Chloe flung her arms round him and kissed him.

  Jonno marched over with Lola. I kicked Chloe under the table, worried Jonno was about to tell her and Ryan off for embarrassing the guests by snogging in public. Chloe looked up as Jonno loomed over the table, beaming at us.

  “Great show,” he said. “Guys, this is Lola.”

  I felt Eve hold my hand under the table. Lola gave a bored look round. Her lips curved into a smile as her heavily made-up eyes met mine. “Hey, there,” she drawled.

  “Hey,” I squeaked. Lola was, frankly, terrifying. Like a great big sexy snake – the sort that swallow their victims whole.

  I felt Eve draw her hand away from mine. I looked at her, my face reddening.

  “Thanks,” she whispered, her voice low and bitter.

  “What?”

  “Your turn, Babycakes.” Jonno grinned at Eve. “The open mike awaits you.”

  The table fell silent. I could feel Eve freeze beside me.

  “No, Daddy,” she croaked.

  “Yes, Daddy.” Jonno chewed on his cigar. “Come on. I want to see what I’ve been paying for. You’ve had eight months to practise.”

  I frowned. What was he talking about?

  Eve was shrinking back in her chair. “Please don’t make me,” she said, in this tiny, little-girly voice. “I’m too shy.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Jonno stood over Eve, a smile fixed to his lips. His presence so close was overpowering just like when he’d told me not to go anywhere near Eve.

  No wonder Eve’s mum was scared of him.

  “You’re singing, Eve. Now.”

  Eve stood up slowly. I
could do nothing except watch as she followed Jonno onto the stage. I glanced at Chloe and Ryan. They were kissing again, oblivious to Eve’s misery.

  Lola slid into Eve’s empty seat.

  “Having fun?” She ran a long, pink nail across the tablecloth in front of me.

  I nodded vaguely, all my attention on Eve.

  She was standing in front of the microphone now, looking absolutely petrified. Jonno and the pianist were standing beside her, deep in discussion. Part of me fantasised about going up there, grabbing her hand and pulling her away. But, of course, I didn’t.

  The music started up – a soft tune on the piano, a delicate hiss on the drums. Eve was staring down at the floor. My heart was in my mouth. Suppose she was too scared to make any sound at all?

  Then she looked up, her eyes glistening, and opened her mouth. This pure, perfect sound soared round the room. Every note, every word was rich and whole, like gold melting. Or maybe it was just me? I looked round the room. No. The entire audience was on the edge of their seats, silent, eager to catch the next note. Ryan and Chloe had stopped kissing and were staring at Eve, open-mouthed. I could feel Lola beside me, also transfixed.

  I looked back at Eve. She hadn’t moved from the microphone and I was pretty sure she hadn’t looked directly at anyone in the audience, but somehow her presence was filling the nightclub through the sad, deep, heartbreak of her song.

  She finished and looked back down at the floor. There was a pause. Then the room burst into tumultuous applause. Jonno strode over to Eve and pulled her into an enormous hug. Lola got up and wandered over to them both.

  The three of them talked for a minute. Then Eve was back, flushed and happy, at the table.

  Chloe hugged her. “You were brilliant.”

  “Where did you learn to sing like that?” Ryan asked.

  Eve’s blush deepened. “I’ve been having singing lessons since February,” she said. “Dad pays for them. He thinks I’ve got talent, but . . . it’s just . . . I like singing, but not in public like this. . .” she tailed off.