Chapter 20
20
STEVIE
Was it wrong that she was enjoying herself? After the stresses of the last few days, tonight had been the first time that Stevie had felt anything even close to relaxation. The gin and tonics helped. So did the fact that the music was loud, so it made intimate conversation difficult. It felt like the best of both worlds – they were together, but they got to be happy, not sad.
There had been three or four singers up already and they were all surprisingly good. Over the noise of the music, Carina had filled her in about how popular karaoke was here in this region – almost a national sport. It was one Stevie could get on board with. When she was a student, she’d been a regular in Glasgow’s karaoke bars and it was still her first choice of destination on her birthday. Her duet with Caleb to ‘Endless Love’ had wrapped up too many nights to count.
A short, suited gent who looked like an accountant brought his enthusiastic version of Meatloaf’s ‘Bat Out Of Hell’ in to land, holding on to the last note like his life depended on it. Applause over, he took several bows, before the karaoke host jumped back up on the stage again to announce the next song.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the next singer… Moira Chiles!’
The crowd clapped politely as Moira slipped off her bar stool with a bashful shrug. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist.’
The lights went down, the opening bars of the unmistakable sound of Aretha Franklin’s ‘Respect’ rang out, Moira opened her mouth and… Oh good grief, every single person in the bar snapped around to pay attention because the voice that came out of her was just incredible. For the first verse, the crowd listened in awe, by the middle of the song, they were singing along and by the time she got to the last chorus she had the whole room on its feet – Carina and Stevie included.
Stevie glanced at Carina and saw that despite her wide grin, tears were streaming down her face. Stevie instinctively understood. This wasn’t just a performance that she was watching. They’d already said this was the same location, same stage, same songs – so what Carina must be witnessing was a re-run of her and Moira’s past.
As soon as the song finished, the karaoke host returned, making a bowing motion to Moira, hailing her brilliance. It was difficult to be sure, under the lights, but Stevie thought she might be blushing.
‘Thank you very much,’ she said into the mic, acknowledging her audience. ‘Thirty-five years ago, I sang on this stage every night, so I can’t tell you how good it felt to do that.’
More thunderous appreciation, and a crowd of Americans at the table behind them began calling for an encore.
Stevie saw Moira’s eyes go to the host, who made a shrugging/bowing motion inviting her to carry on.
Moira spoke back into the microphone. ‘When I worked here, I actually sang with my two best friends and one of them is here tonight, so maybe she could come and join me?’
That set the crowd off again, all of them loving this idea… except the woman standing to Stevie’s right, whose emotion appeared to have turned to a distinct reluctance to take centre stage. ‘No,’ she mouthed to Moira, shaking her head.
The Americans clicked that it was Carina that Moira was inviting to join her, and began cheering her on, until she must have realised that there was no point in resisting.
Carina picked up her drink, knocked it back and then leaned into Stevie’s ear and said, ‘Remind me later that I plan on killing her, please.’
‘Will do,’ Stevie agreed, chuckling. The cheer that went round the room carried Carina all the way to the stage. When she got there, Stevie could see her speaking to the host, who nodded, before stepping to the side and pressing a couple of buttons on the keyboard.
The whole time, Moira was grinning, which turned to laughter when Carina whispered what Stevie assumed was a death threat in her ear. She adored the dynamic between these two women. And she was grateful that her mum had been a part of it all those years ago.
That thought sparked a strange feeling, something that sat between regret and sadness. How different would her childhood, her teenage years, her twenties, her thirties have been if she’d known the other Lisa, the talented, badass one that she knew now had stood on that stage and entertained her audience?
Carina played a few test notes on the keyboard, twiddled a few knobs, and then began thumping out a beat that Stevie recognised immediately as the intro to a classic tune that had been written before she was born, but that everyone immediately reacted to. And as the sound of Cher’s ‘Turn Back Time’ filled the bar, everyone was on their feet again. Moira raised the mic, belted out the first line, this time with Carina’s harmony in perfect sync. Stevie knew they hadn’t performed this for decades, yet they were flawless and fricking magnificent.
Again, halfway through the song, the rest of the audience joined in and there was a moment that she was sure they’d all talk about the next day, when they told friends, families, co-workers about the absolutely brilliant night they’d had tonight.
When the song ended, they hugged, hanging onto each other for a few moments, their emotion palpable, before they broke off and took a bow. By the time they were cheered the whole way back to their seats, the barman was already sliding fresh drinks towards them. ‘On the house,’ he said, laughing as he gave them a bow of appreciation.
‘Aye, well that gave my lungs a workout,’ Moira declared, before putting her hand up to stop any negative reaction from Carina. ‘And don’t you say a word, Carina Lloyd, because you know you enjoyed that every bit as much as I did.’
Carina was already taking a considerable gulp of her drink. ‘Maybe. Okay, yes, so it felt good. Argh, I really, really hate it when you’re right.’
Moira was beaming. ‘Sorry, what was that? I was right? It was worth waiting thirty-five years to hear you say that.’
‘Yes, well it probably won’t happen again for another thirty-five, so enjoy it. Now come on – let’s finish these drinks and get out of here while we’re riding a wave of glory.’
They were entertained by a passionate performance of Christina Aguilera’s ‘Fighter’ from an Italian chap in a Versace shirt, then an elderly lady belting out ‘Like A Virgin’, and finally the group from the next table took to the spotlights to give them ‘American Pie’.
Moira signed the cheque, charging their food and drinks to her room, then slipped off her chair. ‘Shall we go then, ladies?’ With a parting wave to the barman, they headed off, and as they walked down the corridor, Moira said, ‘You know, it never changes. That buzz when you come off a stage. We could never just go home and sleep after work. We weren’t exactly filling arenas, but I understand why rock stars lose the plot, I really do.’
In the lobby, a pianist in the corner was serenading late night guests. ‘Shall we sit here and have a night cap?’ Moira went on, proving her point.
‘I could do that,’ Carina agreed. ‘Stevie?’
Stevie hadn’t sung a word tonight, hadn’t felt the appreciation of the crowd, or the adrenalin of delivering a performance that rocked a whole bar, but she wasn’t ready to sleep yet either.
A waiter took their order – three porn star martinis this time – and then left them to the sound of Andrea Bocelli’s beautiful ‘Con Te Partirò’ being played on the piano. They sat in silence, appreciating the moment, but Stevie’s mind refused to wind down and relax. It was as if everything they did, every place they went, every interaction they had, sparked another question about the woman she realised now that she’d never known.
‘Stevie, you look like you’re miles away there,’ Moira said gently, perhaps wondering if the emotion of the song was making her sad.
‘I was just thinking about all the things I’ve learned since I got here. I still can’t quite take it all in or get my head round everything.’
‘It must be a lot to digest,’ Carina empathised.
Stevie could have left it there. Let it go. Enjoyed the music while they sipped their nightcaps. But her conversation with Caleb from the previous afternoon had raised a question that hadn’t yet been answered. She was still sure that she didn’t know the full story. Something was off. There were gaps in the narrative that hadn’t yet been filled.
The song changed from ‘Con Te Partirò’ to ‘My Heart Will Go On’, and Stevie took that as a sign.
‘Is it okay if we talk a little more about my mum?’ she asked, her voice low, so that she didn’t disturb the enjoyment of the people at nearby tables.
Carina was the first to respond. ‘Of course.’
‘It’s just that something you said yesterday has been playing on my mind. You were talking about how you all made mistakes back in the day, but that you were lucky because there was no social media, or Internet or phones with cameras to record those mistakes.’
‘That’s true,’ Moira agreed. ‘And we were so much better for it.’
Stevie didn’t disagree. ‘What I keep thinking though, is that for the last few days you’ve been filling in blanks for me about my mum. And don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate how lovely you’ve both been to me. But the thing I keep coming back to is that almost everything you’ve told me about my mum was positive, yet I know she could be complicated, and difficult and secretive. I get that she was your friend, and you’re probably trying to protect her, but I want to know all of it, even the things I might not like. So I’d really appreciate if you would be honest with me and tell me – what were my mum’s mistakes?’