Page 27 of The Cruise Club

When Theo, Carmen and Betty got back to the Diamond Star , they realised that there was a commotion taking place on the side of the quay. The coach that had taken passengers to the beach was emptying, and a crowd surrounded a woman lying prostrate on the ground.

‘Move back!’ Peter said, thrusting his clipboard to one side. The crowd, like a flock of startled birds, dispersed, giving the woman more space. ‘Let her get some air,’ he added, removing a towel from his bag to roll up and place under her head.

Betty, now wide awake, poked about with her cane. ‘Let me through!’ she called out, prodding the backside of a woman in tight Lycra shorts.

‘Mother, behave yourself!’ Carmen hissed and apologised to the furious-faced woman who was rubbing her rear.

‘I want to see what’s going on.’ Betty’s voice was as sharp as a knife. ‘Someone’s probably caught something terminal on that island, and we’re all about to drop like flies.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Carmen snapped. Thinking it best to manoeuvre Betty away and head towards the ship, Carmen turned when Fran came hurrying towards them.

‘Cooee!’ Fran called out. ‘Have you had a lovely day?’

‘Yes, it’s been wonderful, but what’s happening here?’ Carmen asked.

‘Don’t worry, dear,’ Fran said softly, patting Carmen’s arm. ‘It’s Debbie, she’s had a drop too much.’

As Fran was speaking, Don appeared and marched towards them. ‘Drop too much?’ he angrily scoffed, ‘She’s three sheets to the wind and singing like a sailor.’

True to his words, a sound echoed across the quay.

‘I DID IT MY WAAAY!’ Debbie, now hauled into a sitting position, belted out the famous Frank Sinatra number and several cruisers who’d also been to the beach joined in.

‘They’re saying that she had neat ouzo in her water bottle,’ Fran confided, her voice lowered. ‘Don hadn’t a clue and thought she was keeping herself hydrated.’

Theo began to laugh as the singing sunbathers chorused. ‘And through it all… She took the fall… and did it… HER WAAAY!’

‘She’ll be doing it her own way when she sobers up,’ Don huffed, ‘all the way to the nearest flight home.’

‘Oh, come on now,’ Theo said, reaching out an arm and giving Don a playful punch. ‘Your woman is on holiday, she’s been having fun, and let’s face it, we’ve all been where she is.’

Carmen wasn’t so sure about that as she stared at Debbie, who now had a paper bag in her hand and was retching violently.

‘Disgraceful,’ Betty mumbled.

‘Debbie’s singing is the most I’ve heard her say all cruise,’ Theo whispered to Carmen.

‘That’s true.’ Carmen nodded. ‘Don is always the mouthpiece for both of them.’

‘Nothing to see here!’ Peter called out. He flapped his hands to disperse the crowd and winced when Debbie projected two olives and a half-digested cherry onto his towel.

‘Does Debbie need a hand?’ Carmen asked.

‘Probably not,’ Theo said, ‘it looks like the cavalry has arrived.’ He pointed to two medics who were hauling Debbie to her feet. ‘A rest and a black coffee and she’ll soon be dancing again.’ Theo grinned.

‘Not likely,’ Don complained, ‘she’s as wobbly as a three-legged stool.’ He stared at the medics who were now red-faced as Debbie’s weight fell against them. ‘It’s like lifting a sack of tatties…’ Don added.

‘At least you had a lovely afternoon.’ Fran turned to Don. ‘You were going for the jet ski speed record when we saw you whizzing around the bay.’

Fran remembered the look of terror on Debbie’s face when she slid off the back of Don’s jet ski at the end of their ride.

Crawling through the water to the beach, her skirted swimsuit trailed heavily in the sand.

No wonder the woman had downed a stiff drink.

Don was deadly at the controls and had watched far too many action movies.

He hadn’t a clue what he was doing, Fran thought, unlike her safe and steady Sid.

Betty banged her cane. ‘Can we please get moving!’ she griped. ‘I can’t sit here watching this nonsense, this is supposed to be a cruise, not a pub crawl.’

Carmen’s fingers were firm as she began to steer Betty towards the ship.

‘Shall we meet up later?’ Theo asked, falling into step.

‘That sounds like a plan,’ Carmen replied with a smile. ‘Betty has a date with Holden Jackson, and I’d hate to play gooseberry.’

‘I’ve got to prep for my talk tomorrow,’ Theo said, ‘so I’ll probably have dinner in my room. But how about we can catch the show in the Neptune Theatre?’

‘Perfect,’ Carmen said. ‘Save me a seat.’

Dicky was in his dressing room. Pacing nervously around the cluttered area, he could feel beads of sweat form on his forehead as he rummaged in pockets and opened drawers.

Dressed in his stage clothes, Dicky sifted through the tubes and bottles strewn over the table, pushing aside half-empty water bottles and notes with scribbled jokes.

‘Where the hell is it?’ he muttered, his fingers repeatedly going to his neck to search for the gold chain that had been gifted by the wealthy widow.

She’d told him it would be his good luck charm and expected him to wear it when he was on stage.

The chain had been missing for twenty-four hours, seemingly vanished into thin air, and despite his assurance that he’d forgotten to put it on, Dicky knew that he couldn’t fool the lady further.

The door swung open, and Melody strode in.

‘Stealing my stuff again?’ she asked, her voice edged with sarcasm as she tugged off her wig and removed her heels before sliding onto her chair.

‘I haven’t touched anything of yours, but I could ask the same,’ Dicky snapped. ‘Have you seen a gold chain?’

‘Hardly,’ Melody said, ‘do you mean the one that looks like it should be anchoring a ship?’

‘Yes,’ Dicky nodded, mentally agreeing that the chain was quite chunky.

‘It’s not my style,’ Melody yawned.

Dicky checked his pockets for the third time, his gaze flitting around the room.

‘I presume it was a gigolo gift from that portly diamond on legs that you’ve been servicing since you came on board?’ Melody looked at Dicky’s reflection in the mirror and raised her painted eyebrows.

Dicky was about to add that there were many more gifts in the pipeline if he played his cards right, but Melody’s reference to a gigolo stopped him. Was that how others saw him?

‘You’re the human equivalent of an expensive sports car,’ Melody said, ‘always ready to hit the road but with a hefty price tag. Don’t you ever tire of laughing at her unfunny jokes and bowing to her every command?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Dicky shrugged.

‘Do you enjoy dishing out compliments that aren’t true? You’re a freeloader, Dicky, creating questionable services that are paid for by the hour.’ Melody began to spread cleansing cream on her skin.

‘You’re imagining things.’ Dicky tugged on his shirt sleeves to fasten the cuff buttons, then turned to the mirror and examined his stage-ready face. ‘Most people would describe me as more of a life coach for passengers, a multi-tasker.’

‘More like a Swiss Army knife for lonely old hearts, always ready with the right tool.’

Dicky scowled. ‘Why do you dislike me, Melody?’ he asked, genuinely perplexed as he stared at the singer. ‘I’ve done nothing to offend you and have tried to be civil both on and off stage.’

Melody slowly wiped at the cream with a tissue. Tossing it in a bin, she pushed back her chair and turned to face Dicky. ‘You don’t have a clue, do you?’

‘Eh?’ Dicky was confused.

Melody crossed her arms and stared coldly. ‘Benidorm. The Starlight Bar. Impersonation Night,’ she said flatly. ‘July 19th, 2014.’

Dicky scratched his cheek and frowned. He hadn’t a clue what Melody was talking about. But as his brain unscrambled the years, trying to connect the dots, various gigs fell into place, and he was suddenly back on a dimly lit stage in the crowded room of the Starlight Bar in Benidorm…

‘Tonight, for one night only!’ Dicky announced. ‘We invite you to our event, the Best Impersonation of Danni Del Rio!’

The lights in the auditorium of the Starlight Bar dimmed, and the crowd became hushed as Dicky started a routine that made fun of current events.

‘I thought I was in a relationship, but it turns out I was just a Netflix subscription. I was getting dumped every month!’ Dicky joked. ‘Have you heard the one about the ice bucket challenge that went wrong?’ he asked. ‘They used too much ice and are now auditioning for Titanic!’

Dicky raised his hand after several more gags, and the laughter died down.

‘Now everyone, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for,’ he said, ‘I’d like to invite those audience members participating to come onto the stage with their impersonation of our resident drag queen and host, Danni Del Rio!’

To one side of the stage Danni Del Rio, a vision in sequins, stood in all her finery with a fake smile on her lips as she watched Dicky perform.

It had been the club owner’s idea to host this event, thinking it a novel way to fill the club with wannabe drag queens and their supporters, who flocked to Benidorm to find work in the many entertainment venues.

As the show began, Dicky encouraged the contestants to exaggerate and imitate Danni’s over-the-top outfits and garish makeup, even emulating her every strut and pose.

Caricaturing Danni’s act, the wannabes lined up to await Dicky’s final decision and pick a winner.

The crowd roared with laughter, but for Danni, it felt increasingly uncomfortable, her routine ridiculed cruelly.

Unable to take any more, she stepped forward and began a fierce retort, but the crowd continued to laugh, not with her but at her.

Distraught and in a flash of rage, Danni stormed off the stage…

‘You did nothing,’ Melody said now as she stared at Dicky with icy eyes.

‘What do you mean?’ Dicky looked puzzled. ‘I remember the night, and it was all in good fun. It’s not my fault if Danni couldn’t take a joke and threw her toys out of the pram.’

‘Danni was my best friend, and I was in the audience.’

Dicky shrugged. ‘How was I to know you two were close? I didn’t even know you then.’

‘No. So neither would you know that Danni fell off our balcony in the early hours and was fatally injured.’

Dicky took a step back. His eyes wide as he stared at Melody. Shocked, he covered his mouth with his palm. Wracking his brains, he remembered leaving to join a cruise ship the day after the drag queen gig.

‘The club owner sacked her when she left the stage.’ Melody’s voice was flat. ‘He said she shouldn’t have spoken out and viewed her action as disrupting a great night. You walked away, basking in applause and your own glory, leaving Danni horribly humiliated and without a job.’

‘I had no idea…’

‘And you have no idea of the emotional, transformative journey that we go through. The double-edged sword that cuts deep.’

‘But… you can’t blame me, surely?’

‘But I do, Dicky. Danni was fragile, and it took great courage to hold down that job. She’d lost her family back home, through prejudice and backlash, just for wanting to be her true self. That job meant everything, and you took it away.’

Dicky didn’t know where to look, and he glanced at his watch, realising that he was soon due on stage.

Melody stood. She picked up a robe and walked to the bathroom. ‘Go on,’ she said, ‘entertain them, but perhaps in light of what I’ve told you, you’ll appreciate the true cost of a laugh.’

Dicky winced as Melody slammed the bathroom door.

‘On stage in ten minutes, Mr Delaney!’ a runner called out.

Dicky stared at his face in the mirror. The harsh lights reflected the turmoil that he felt.

Self-doubt loomed as he swiped a finger across his heavily made-up cheekbone and thought of the thousands of times he’d stood in a theatre giving everything to each joke he told.

Dicky turned pain and mishaps into material. It was his job.

‘I’m a comedian, for God’s sake!’ Dicky yelled and swivelled his head to the bathroom door. ‘It’s what I do!’

Without waiting for Melody to reply, Dicky straightened his collar, squared his shoulders and thrust back his head. Ready to face his audience and with a resolute smile at his reflection, Dicky marched out of the door.