Authors: Mandy Baggot
‘
Let me get this straight - you want to go to a club?’ Jimmy spoke, looking at her in amusement.
‘
Yes, I mean, you were saying earlier I ought to live a little and Cleo is always raving about clubs and saying what fun they are - I want to try it, let’s go,’ Samantha said her heart threatening to break free from her chest as she talked her escape route.
‘
Well, OK, if that’s what you want to do,’ Jimmy answered, closing the door and relocking the car.
‘
Yes, it is. That’s exactly what I want to do - it will be - fun,’ Samantha responded with an unconvincing smile.
Fifteen
Revolutio
n had a queue of at least fifty people outside and three burly bouncers on the door. Two of them were bald and looked like Ross Kemp and the third had stringy, black hair tied back in a pony tail. He was taller than the Ross Kemp twins and looked like a cross between Francis Rossi from Status Quo and Steven Seagal.
Even from the back of the queue Samantha could hear the
thump thump
of the drum and bass music that she knew was likely to bring on a migraine. But she smiled at Jimmy and did a ridiculous jig like something from
Lord of the Dance
in appreciation of the song that was playing and hoped she would be able to lose him in the crowd once they were inside. Then she could call a taxi and go home. That way there would be no awkward lifts touching knees in the teeny tiny car, clutching her teeny tiny handbag to her chest.
‘
So what sort of music are you in to? This sort of stuff or stuff more like Air Patrol?’ Jimmy enquired as they moved up the queue.
Oh God, he wanted to interrogate her before they got inside. She hadn’t bargained on there being a queue to get in, and a quiet queue at that. She could vaguely hear a stag party near the front singing ‘the bouncer is a
wanker
’, which surely wasn’t going to do them any favours, and there were two women behind them puking up into the gutter. Apart from that it was basically silent.
‘
Sorry, what did you say? The music’s quite loud,’ Samantha spoke, holding her ears.
What was she saying? The music wasn’t loud, she could hear him perfectly well. He would now think she was deranged.
‘
I like all sorts of music, anything from Madonna to The Carpenters,’ Jimmy informed her.
‘
Oh - I think I got some of that - still a bit fuzzy though, because of the music,’ Samantha shouted loudly.
‘
Oi, you alright love or you got some mental problem? What’s with all the shouting? I can hear what he’s saying back here. He said he likes The Carpenters,’ spoke a huge man in his forties wearing a checked shirt with sweat under each arm pit and a horrible brown stain on the front.
Samantha swallowed, realising her ridiculous game was up and tried to stop the laughter from spilling out as nerves threatened to overwhelm her.
‘
Hey, give the lady a break,’ Jimmy suggested to the man who had spoken.
‘
Wooo! We’ve got a tetchy one here boys. One with an attitude that likes The Carpenters,’ the man said in a confrontational manner.
Samantha grabbed at her chest, feeling the feeling, knowing what was going to come next. She couldn’t stop it.
‘
Ah ha ha ha ha!’ she laughed in the highest pitch her vocal chords would allow.
‘
What the f**k? She on day release mate?’ the man questioned, nudging the club goers stood next to him and encouraging them to look at Samantha.
‘
Ahhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha!’ Samantha continued, knowing the coughing and shortness of breath was going to follow rapidly afterwards.
‘
Come on, let’s get in the club and get you a drink of water,’ Jimmy urged and he put his arm around Samantha, directing her out of the queue and towards the bouncers.
The
Francis Rossi/Steven Seagal lookalike was busily checking the ID of very young looking girls in very short skirts and making the best use of the opportunity by looking down their tops. The Ross Kemp twins glared in unison as Jimmy and Samantha approached them.
‘
Hi guys, could we go in? My friend needs to sit down and have a glass of water,’ Jimmy said, holding Samantha up as she gasped for breath and started to cough like a walrus.
‘
Pissed is she? I don’t think so mate,’ Kemp number one spoke, looking Samantha up and down.
‘
She isn’t drunk, she’s having an anxiety attack. She just needs to sit and have a glass of water.’
‘
Yeah right, that’s what they all say. Hang on a minute, you look familiar. Oi, Trev, who does he look like to you? Is it someone off the box? That new detective in
The Bill
innit?’
‘
Nah, he’s taller and his hair ain’t right.’
‘
Look, please, can you get the management? If she doesn’t take a seat in a minute she’s probably going to pass out,’ Jimmy told the duo.
‘
Nah it ain’t
The Bill,
I know you. You’re that ice skater. Me and the wife came and saw the show last week - tasty bird that partner of yours. You’re Jimmy ain’t ya, it’s Jimmy Trev. Now what’s your last name again? George? James? James innit?’
‘
It’s Jimmy Lloyd - now we’re coming in,’ Jimmy said seriously as Samantha’s eyes began to roll.
‘
Yeah, ‘course mate, ‘course. VIP section’s to the right. Oi! You! Guy with half his gut hanging out! See the sign up there - it’s smart casual not fancy dress,’ Kemp number one spoke, pointing at someone in the queue.
Jimmy hurried into the club and headed for the nearest table. He put Samantha onto a seat where she landed with a bump and surprised a couple who were furiously necking as if the world was going to end.
Samantha led her head on the table in front of her and tried to regain some control of her bodily functions. She felt dreadful. She was damp and clammy and overheating. Her head began to pound even more as the table vibrated to the loud house music that was being played by the DJ.
Where was she? What had happened? Why did she remember seeing Ross Kemp?
Was she out on a night with Cleo? Had she made her drink red wine? She sluggishly pulled her head from the table and looked around her. There were people, hundreds of people, everywhere. They were occupying every corner as far as her eyes could see and there was a couple next to her trying to perform a tonsillectomy on each other. She was in a nightclub! What was she doing in a nightclub? Panic gripped her heart and then a glass of water was put down on the table in front of her.
‘
Are you OK?’ Jimmy asked above the music.
Oh goodness she was with him! They’d been to the Presbook Centre to see the concert, she remembered that now. She’d had curly chips, but how did they get here? The tiny car! His tiny car and her avoidance plan to get out of him giving her a lift home. Oh why was she so stupid?
‘
I got you some water,’ Jimmy said, indicating the glass.
Samantha picked it up and hastily drank the contents in the hope it would make her feel better.
‘
Do you want to go somewhere quieter?’ Jimmy asked.
No!
No, despite the music hurting even the inside of her head, quiet meant less people, less noise and more chance of him asking the questions she didn’t want to answer.
‘
No! No, here is good. I like it,’ Samantha replied and she made an attempt at bopping up and down on her seat and nodding her head in time to the music.
Jimmy came and sat down next to her.
‘
So, if you like this type of music how come you haven’t been here before?’ he enquired.
‘
Well - you know - it’s having the time really,’ Samantha said her voice wavering.
He was sat really close to her, as close as they would have been had she braved the car. His leg was almost touching hers. She would have been able to feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed if it hadn’t been for the loud repetitive music and the DJ yelling ‘Wave your hands in the air, whoop, whoop’.
‘
To be honest with you clubs don’t do a lot for me any more. They used to be somewhere to go when the bars shut but, well I don’t do that any more either,’ Jimmy said over the din.
She
didn’t know what to say to him. Just having him sit so close to her was disabling her. There was only one thing she could say and the words were out before she had thought it through.
‘
Let’s go and dance!’
The minute she said it she wanted to be sick. What was she thinking of? She didn’t do dancing - she
couldn’t
dance. It had taken all her effort at the concert to move her feet in time to the music and that had been in a narrow aisle where no one could see her feet. Here there was a dance floor, filled with energetic people all unafraid of waving their arms and shaking their booty. Oh why had she suggested dancing?
‘
You want to dance?’ Jimmy asked, checking he had heard correctly.
‘
Well, I - yes! Why not?’ Samantha answered feeling
stupider
than ever.
‘
If that’s what you really want to do? Come on,’ Jimmy said, standing up and offering her his hand.
Samantha gulped as she looked
at the hand he was offering and then she looked at the dance floor. Hundreds of sweaty
revellers
, glassy-eyed and drunk, arms flailing, feet pounding. It reminded her of her leaver’s party at school. She had ended up staying behind to help Mrs Coles, her form tutor, clean up all the vomit.
But this situation was completely her fault
. If she hadn’t been so pathetic and just got in his car she could be home now, safe in her bed. She took hold of his hand and let him lead her to the dance floor.
The music was horrendously loud, the beat was thumping through her body making her internal organs rattle and Jimmy was in front of her, completely at home in the surroundings, dancing wonderfully and looking gorgeous.
Samantha bent her knees like she was ice skating and her bottom stuck out. She tried to move her feet in time but it was hard to figure out what in time was when her insides were being
pummelled
by the
bass line
. She couldn’t concentrate. Jimmy was smiling at her and Samantha smiled back, grimacing as she trod on the open-toed shoe of a female dancer next to her.
‘
Oh I’m sorry,’ Samantha said immediately, embarrassed.
The woman didn’t hear her over the music and seemed not to have noticed. She threw her arms into the air and started yelling ‘Whoop, whoop!’.
This was truly horrendous. How long did one song last? She didn’t know how long she would be able to carry on sucking in her stomach, pulling in her bum and keeping her top half stiff so her boobs didn’t bounce about. And as well as doing all that she then had to move from one foot to the other and pretend she was enjoying herself. It was painful and the black wedges were starting to rub her toes.
She looked around the dance floor to see if anyone else was having as much difficulty as she was. There were a group of women, dressed in neon colours wearing novelty sunglasses and veils who seemed to be doing a properly choreographed routine. There were a group of lads in polo shirts in circle formation, arms around each others shoulders, bouncing up and down and shouting. And there was a lone club-goer, dressed as John Travolta from
Saturday Night Fever
, pointing his finger up in the air and then sweeping it across his body to point at his shoe in a frenzied fashion. And then she saw someone she knew. Felicity.
Felicity was wearing tight
, black, wet-look leggings and a geometric print top. She was shaking her body in all sorts of directions and occasionally clasped hands with the man dancing opposite her. He was a sight to behold. He was wearing bottle green skinny-fit cords, a flowery shirt, open at the neck and pixie boots. He shook his head a lot, flicking his floppy fringe across his face. Samantha assumed this was the new boyfriend who worked on the switchboard of the local paper. He looked more like he should be in a band with Jarvis Cocker.
Felicity stopped gyrating and looked over in Samantha’s direction. Oh goodness, she couldn’
t be seen, not here, in a club - or with Jimmy. Staff and performers didn’t interact, it was one of the main Civic Hall rules. She grabbed hold of Jimmy’s hands and pulled him closer to her, using him as a human shield.
‘
Oh, well, this is really, really fantastic but I’m so tired. Do you mind if we go?’ Samantha shouted to him above the music,
analysing
her footwork so she moved behind Jimmy in time to his steps and avoided getting into Felicity’s line of vision.
‘
No of course not, let’s go,’ Jimmy agreed with a nod.
Samantha smiled and waited for him to move off first before she moved in close behind him and tried to hide herself from anyone who might be looking.
She didn’t breathe until they were back outside. The Kemp twins had two men up against the wall of the club while the Francis Rossi/Steven Seagal lookalike radioed for assistance.
‘
Ooo, a taxi, I’ll get in it. May
as well
, seeing as it’s here,’ Samantha spoke, suddenly taking off towards the waiting cab.