Chapter 48
I think everyone on the ship has piled in for the last karaoke night. It’s completely different from the pub karaoke nights I’ve been dragged along to, where a sticky, tattered book is passed around a room full of equally sticky, tattered people.
This is professional. Large stage with a screen for the lyrics, a glamorous MC called Katy, already belting out ‘Dancing Queen’, and a dance floor in the middle of the hall.
There are chairs and tables dotted around the rear of the room, but these are already full. After a couple of drinks my need to sit down will lessen.
‘Now, remember, folks! No ballads after ten p.m. You have forty minutes left. If you want to sing those slow, sad songs, get your request in now. Remember, all names are chosen at random. When the clock strikes ten, we’re up and we’re dancing.’
The song request system is more modern that the usual songbook. There are four touchscreens where you can search for a song or scroll though. Choose a song, enter your name and wait to be called for your four minutes of glory or dishonour.
Cameron and Lucas have already made a beeline for the touchscreens, songs chosen before they even get in line.
‘Sometimes people sing and leave,’ Brian tells me. ‘Be on the lookout.’
‘Ten to four.’
He darts off to the right, while Evelyn goes to the bar.
‘You don’t have to stay,’ I tell Ellis, who has one eye on the screen and one on the exit. ‘I just promised I’d come.’
‘Hey, it’s fine,’ he replies. ‘This looks cool.’
‘Liar,’ I reply, laughing. ‘I’m giving it an hour. Drink?’
‘Just a beer,’ he says, over a woman screeching her way through ‘I Will Survive’. ‘And a shotgun if they have one.’
As I stand at the bar, I wonder if I can get away with not singing. I’ll just pretend that I chose a song, but they were obviously too inundated with requests to get to mine. This is a good plan. Once again, I am a genius.
I return with Ellis’s beer and an Electric Lemonade for me. Apparently one of the ingredients is Blue Curacao. I have no idea what that is but right now I hope it’s strong enough to make me go deaf.
‘I didn’t know “I Will Always Love You” was available in this key,’ Ellis says, making me snort.
‘Are you saying you could do better?’
‘Absolutely not,’ he replies. ‘I’m like one of those X Factor judges who has no business being there but still gives an opinion.’
I see Brian waving frantically at us, indicating that a table has just become available.
Blue cocktail in hand, I sprint towards him.
Before long Evelyn, Lucas, Cameron and Mia join us.
Mia informs us that Dieter is at the bar getting his fourth cocktail of the night.
The man doesn’t look like he’s had four cocktails in his life.
The vibe is happy but restrained. Passengers are singing, a few are chair dancing but in general it’s calm and civilised.
A tall woman, Colleen, in a crop top and tight burgundy flares, is allowed to finish singing ‘Hold On’ by Wilson Philips before the lights go down.
A disco ball appears and starts rotating. It’s 10 p.m.
‘Are we ready?’ Katy yells. ‘I want everyone on the dance floor.’
I make a quick escape to the bathroom. For once the mirror is rather forgiving, unlike some which wouldn’t be out of place in a carnival funhouse.
It’s like trying to fix your make-up using the back of a spoon.
I smooth my hair just as I hear a drumbeat followed by a voice singing about seeing a faded sign .
. . I stop and laugh. That’s ‘Love Shack’ and that’s Dieter.
The last time I ran out of a bathroom so quickly, I was eight and a spider decided he’d chill on my foot while I used the toilet.
As Dieter, in his grey polo shirt, sings his little heart out, I see at least twenty people on the dance floor.
Ellis stands watching him, a smile plastered all over his face.
Our group continues to be called up. Cameron next with ‘Faith’, Lucas with ‘Party in the USA’ and Brian singing ‘Don’t Stop Believing’, which despite my aversion, seems to go down well with everyone else on board. Evelyn wasn’t lying: he is very good.
‘Another drink?’ Ellis asks. I point to my Electric Lemonade, which has swiftly become my favourite cocktail of the trip. I know my tongue will be bright blue, but I don’t care. Smurf tongue is a small price to pay.
When Mia is called, she marches to the stage with purpose, her face deadpan while she’s given the microphone.
I nearly fall off my seat as she starts to sing ‘Rehab’.
She sounds exactly like Amy Winehouse. The cursive singing, the depth, the control, everything spot on and not a hint of a German accent.
I see Cameron and Lucas look at each other, mouths agape before getting to their feet in support.
‘She’s so good!’ I say to Dieter, who nods in acknowledgement.
‘My wife is very talented.’
Ellis returns with my drink. ‘Bar was really busy,’ he tells me. ‘So I got you two.’
It’s like this man knows my soul.
Mia receives a rapturous applause. I pity the person who has to follow that.
‘Next up we have Sophie Smalls and Ellis Simon!’
Excuse me.
My table all turn to see my confused, yet horrified face.
My head shakes frantically as I turn to Ellis. ‘But I didn’t . . . Ellis?’
He’s smiling. Why the fuck is he smiling?’
‘I figured we could both say yes to something new.’
‘Sophie and Ellis, can you make your way to the front, please.’
‘Ellis, what the fuck have you done?’
There’s no time to respond. Ellis takes my hand and starts pulling me towards the stage. ‘Our first duo of the night!’
Why is my stomach tying itself in knots? Calm down, Smalls, this is nothing. This is inconsequential. This is singing a song in front of drunk people.
This might be more terrifying than the skydiving. Why doesn’t Ellis look nervous?
I try to calm myself. Deep breathing. Ellis gives my hand a squeeze before letting go. I feel my stomach flip in a different way. I turn to the screen to see which dreadful song, that I don’t know any of the lyrics to, will appear.
‘Jackson’, Johnny Cash and June Carter.
As the guitars start, he smiles and winks at me. He remembered.
I think this is the moment that I fall for Ellis Simon.