The Pollyanna Plan (5 page)

On a normal Saturday night in the old days, he’d change into his going-out uniform of jeans and T-shirt and then head for a drink with Cherie’s friends from her PR firm, or watch a match down the pub with blokes from the factory. Now, he’d rather guzzle turpentine than face their pitying expressions.

It hadn’t been hard to put people off. Since news of his diagnosis spread, acquaintances were hesitant to invite him anywhere in case he collapsed on them or something, and—after the initial commiserations over his shitty luck—they’d drifted away. It was easier to let them go than constantly reassure them he was fine.

Will was about to crack the top off a Stella when his mobile rang. For a second, he contemplated not answering. But the last time he’d done that, his mother had driven all the way across Essex and down to the boat, certain he’d collapsed on the floor. Ever since he’d been diagnosed, his mum was convinced today was the day he’d take a turn for the worse.

‘Hello?’ he answered curtly, hoping whoever was on the other end would take the hint and not prolong the conversation.

‘Mate! It’s Chaz. Sorry for the late reminder, but we’re all heading out tonight for Ryan’s stag do. I’m ringing round now to make sure everyone comes. It’d be great to see you and get the whole group back together again.’

Will’s brow furrowed. In the depths of his memory, he recalled a Facebook message saying Ryan, an old university chum, was getting married, and they were having a final blowout. At the time, Will had deleted the note, thinking the last thing he was up for was a rowdy group of mates out on the piss. But now
…
these blokes were one of the last links left to Will’s old life, where no one knew about his illness and wouldn’t treat him with kid gloves.

Suddenly, Will longed for a small slice of normality, even if it was only for one night. Despite the fact that he was bone tired and should stay in and rest, he found himself agreeing to meet the gang at a bar in Soho in just over an hour.

After hopping into the miniscule shower, Will shaved, then splashed on cologne. Inhaling the familiar scent, memories of
Cherie
floated into his mind. She’d given him the bottle on their second anniversary, when the future had seemed bright and she’d been proud to call him her boyfriend.

‘The heir to the Ballard paint fortune!’ she’d say jokingly, but Will had caught the admiring and envious glances of her friends. He sighed, tugging on a pair of jeans and a soft black T-shirt. Obviously, Cherie hadn’t been joking about the ‘heir’ bit as much as he’d thought, because him chucking it in had been a major bone of contention between them. She’d sided with his father, never missing an opportunity to say it was a ready-made position, with all the help and assistance he could dream of. Why on earth would he turn against it to work in a
shop
?

Pushing away thoughts of his ex, Will grabbed a hunter-green coat, jammed his feet into black loafers and made his way off the boat onto the towpath.

‘You look handsome. Where are you headed tonight?’ Lou, a large woman in her late sixties, with bright orange locks and twinkling blue eyes, asked from the deck of her boat as he passed. Although it was dark, she was practically glowing in her lurid
poncho
, and he could just make out some random feathers stuck in her shaggy hair. Lou had a strong affinity with Native Americans, and more than once he’d heard her claim she was a direct descendant of a Cree chief—despite her cut-glass accent and whiter than snow skin. The wonderful diversity of the narrow boat community was nothing like Will’s old block of flats, where everyone was wealthy, dressed in dark suits, and worked from five in the morning to late at night.

‘Out with some mates,’ he said, trying to hide a smile at Lou’s getup. The sweet scent of cannabis drifted from her perch atop a lawn chair, and Will was tempted to draw in a lungful. ‘Enjoying the evening?’

Lou nodded. ‘According to the ancient peoples of the Americas, tonight is when each male chooses his mate. William, it’s not too late for this old bird to meet hers. Who can resist feathers?’ She threw back her head and laughed. Her cackle echoed off the water and the high stone walls of the canal, and Will couldn’t help joining in. ‘It’s imperative I’m in the right spiritual frame of mind. Want a drag?’ Lou waved her spliff in the air.

As much as he’d love the sweet oblivion of marijuana, Will knew it was probably better to stay sober—at this stage, anyway. ‘I’d better not. Good luck tonight.’

‘You, too. Handsome young man like you, you should have a woman by your side. Now go on, find your squaw.’

Will lifted a hand as Lou’s laugh followed him down the path. Find his squaw—right. That was the last thing he wanted.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘H
ere we are!’ Alice turned to grin at Emma who, despite her resolution to let go a little, looked up at the club’s facade in
horror
. A blinking neon sign proclaimed ‘Karaoke Speed
Dating
’ in large letters. They might as well have hung a giant ‘Loser’ placard around the neck of every poor sod entering! Old
Compton
Street heaved with all manner of humanity, and passersby were shooting the pair curious glances as they hovered outside the entrance. Despite her severe misgivings, Emma was desperate to get off the street. Even listening to losers looking for love was better than being ogled.

‘Come on.’ She grabbed Alice’s hand and tugged her into the club. Inside it was dark, except for a spotlight on the stage, with a karaoke machine set up to the right. Emma shuddered, imagining herself under that bright light, belting out a tune—or trying to, anyway.

‘Hello, I’m Suzy. Welcome to karaoke speed dating!’ chirped a tiny woman with jet-black hair and so much eyeliner that her lids struggled to lift. She glanced at her clipboard. ‘Do you have tickets? Hope so, since we’re sold out tonight.’

Sold out?
Emma’s eyebrows flew up in surprise that people voluntarily submitted themselves to this.

Alice nodded. ‘Yes, we’re Alice and Emma. I booked in advance.’

‘Perfect.’ Suzy made two ticks on her clipboard. ‘So, ladies,
welcome
! Now, this is how it works. You’ll both sing together in a team. The eligible bachelors will watch and note on their scorecards if they’re interested. As they sing, you’ll mark them. After a brief break, we’ll match interested men with interested women in a duet sing-off.’

‘Sing in a team?’ Emma turned to her friend. ‘You said I wouldn’t have to karaoke!’

‘Oh, come on, Emma. You’ll have a blast!’ Alice responded, smiling reassuringly at the organiser. ‘She’s just shy.’

‘Shy and tone deaf,’ Emma mumbled, poking Alice in the side for not telling her the whole truth earlier. This sounded worse than Chinese water torture. Sophie’s words about the poker up her arse came to mind, and Emma gritted her teeth. Well, at least she wouldn’t need to brave the stage alone. Alice was used to the
spotlight
, and Emma could cower behind her. Anyway, it wasn’t like she knew anyone here, thank goodness.

Ha, she was thinking positively! ‘It’s the only way to survive this ordeal,’ she grumbled to herself.

‘Right, you two go on in and grab a drink. First one is on us.’ Suzy smiled benevolently, as if they hadn’t paid forty pounds for th
e tickets.

‘Okay!’ Alice rushed to the bar and ordered two shots of
God-kn
ows-what, then handed one to Emma. ‘One, two,
three
!’

Emma tipped back her head, grimacing as the sweet, cloying taste of Baileys filled her mouth. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done a shot, let alone Baileys. Maybe at university? To grace the stage, though, she’d definitely need Dutch courage. Or something even stronger—Amazonian courage? Was there a drink for that? If not, there should be.

‘I’m going to grab the song list, so we can choose our tune!’ Alice’s voice burst with enthusiasm.

‘Okay. I’ll order us another round and find somewhere to sit.’ After getting two large glasses of Cabernet, Emma spotted an empty table at the back of the room. The basement bar was still relatively empty, and—disappointingly for Alice—dotted with groups of women, anxiously tittering and gulping drinks like they’d been in the Sahara for a year. Even in the dim light, Emma could see the women were done up to the nines, sporting short skirts and dresses better suited to street corners. In her trusty jeans (only jeans!) and black tank, she felt underdressed, even though she had slipped on a pair of low-heeled black sandals lurking forlornly at the back of the wardrobe. Already, a blister was forming on her heel.

‘Right.’ Alice returned, clutching a binder with laminated pages. Her face dropped as she surveyed the room. ‘Not many guys, are there? Well, it’s still early. I wanted to get the lay of the la
nd an
d put down our song choice, so we could be prepared. Now, how about “Like a Virgin”? That’ll get people’s attention!’

Despite her horror, Emma couldn’t help giggling as she pictured herself shouting the lyrics to Madonna’s finest, complete with gyrations. ‘No way!’ she said. ‘No, Alice. Not a chance.’

‘Huh.’ Alice looked down at the binder again. ‘Well, you choose, then.’ She handed the song list to Emma. ‘Oh, thank God. Some blokes are finally here.’

Emma glanced up from the laminated pages as clusters of men trickled through the door. With glum expressions and hunched shoulders, they weren’t exactly London’s finest. But what type of man would you expect to turn up to karaoke dating, anyway? These guys appeared defeated before they even started, darting furtive looks around the room before scuttling off into the nearest empty chair. The whole scenario reminded Emma of secondary school dances, where the boys stayed in small clumps on the side of the dance floor, watching the girls shake their nonexistent booty. Try as she might, Emma couldn’t imagine these men crooning up on stage, but she hoped for Alice’s sake, they’d prove her wrong.

‘Hmm.’ Alice’s face fell as she surveyed the unlikely crop of contenders.

‘We still have a few minutes before the start time.’ Emma
patted
her friend’s arm.

‘Look at you!’ Alice beamed over. ‘See, you really are becoming like Pollyanna.’

Emma nodded back, even though privately, she thought the chances of Prince Charming showing up were less than her voice magically resembling Whitney Houston’s.

‘And you were right.’ Alice pointed to the entrance, where a large group of men was coming in. ‘Wow! I’ll have one of those, please.’ She leered towards them, and Emma had to admit, they were a cut above the sorry specimens who’d trickled in earlier. In their mid-thirties, the blokes appeared confident and well dressed. By the way they clapped each other on the back and grinned, they seemed as if they’d been friends for ages.

What on earth would entice men like them to this dive? Then again, Emma reminded herself, she and Alice were here, too, and they were hardly losers. Maybe this karaoke speed-dating thing had something to it, after all. Not that she was looking for a man, of course.

Alice was almost salivating as she followed the men’s progress across the floor. The other women had glanced up too, honing in on their prey with the same intensity. Alice better have her game face on tonight if she wanted to snare one of them. The competition appeared fierce.

‘What song have you chosen?’ Alice asked, but Emma couldn’t respond. Everything inside had frozen as she caught sight of one of the men. He kind of looked like—she squinted, and her heart jumped—oh my God, yes. It was that guy Will from the DIY
centre
! What was he doing here? Out of his shop uniform and in a dark jacket, he was even more handsome than Emma remembered. Heat flooded into her cheeks, and she thanked God for the dim light.

‘Emma.’ Alice waved a hand in front of her face. ‘Ems! Where have you gone?’ She followed Emma’s gaze. ‘Ah! Wow, definitely worthy of a stare. Pretty hot, huh?’

Emma felt herself nodding as the desire to crawl under the table swept over her. The whole reason she’d been sort of—emphasis on ‘sort of’—okay with this karaoke thing was because she’d thought no one she knew would see her, and she’d never have to face anyone here again. Spotting someone from the real world, even if it was just a bloke from the home improvement centre, made her feel even more on edge about getting up on stage.

‘I know that guy,’ Emma said, her lips moving as if of their own accord. ‘I met him yesterday when I was buying paint.’ Will’s look of concentration when he mixed the colours and how his muscular forearms popped as he opened the tin came to mind, and Emma felt the warm flush spread through the rest of her.

Alice raised an eyebrow. ‘Lucky you! You’re already one step ahead of everyone else. Hop over and say hi.’

Emma shook her head furiously. ‘No way, Alice. Anyway, he probably wouldn’t remember me.’

‘I’ll go with you!’ Never one to miss an opportunity to mingle with blokes, Alice was already standing.

Emma tugged her down with a thud. ‘Let’s wait until they get settled a bit first,’ she said, hoping Alice might forget—although the chances of that were unlikely. ‘We still haven’t decided what to sing.’

‘Oh, right.’ Alice grabbed the binder again. As she perused the song list, Emma’s eyes travelled back over to the group of men, now swigging from their beer bottles and choosing their songs. Will
was
good-looking, she thought, watching as he leafed through the list. But there was something about the way he was holding him
self—separate
from the group, despite being firmly in their midst—that made her think he was different from the blokey gang around him.

‘Okay, if you don’t want “Like a Virgin,” how about “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun?” Can’t go wrong with Cyndi Lauper!’

Emma nodded. At least she knew most of the words and could get away with mouthing them. Anyway, it wasn’t like she planned to be front and centre. She’d hide in the shadows and let Alice be the star. Maybe Will wouldn’t even spot her. ‘Okay, sounds good.’

Suzy the organiser stepped onto the stage and clapped her hands. ‘Right, everyone! I think we’re ready to start. Thank you all for coming to karaoke speed dating. We’ll take it in turns—one girl group, then one boy group. Does everyone have their scor
ecard ready?’

The crowd of girls at the front whooped and screamed as they raised theirs in the air. Emma noticed Will’s gang eyeing them with interest, and her heart squeezed with a combination of relief and
…
disappointment? Those girls would keep them entertained, at least. That was a good thing.

‘First we have’—Suzy looked down at the clipboard—‘Emma and Alice. Come on up, ladies.’

What? Emma swung a horrified face towards her friend. ‘We’re going first? I need more to drink!’ In a panic, she gulped back her almost full glass of wine.

‘Going first is great,’ Alice said. ‘People will remember us before they get too drunk. Come on!’ And before Emma could protest, Alice bounded onstage, tossing her blonde hair confidently. Keeping her head down as best she could, Emma followed her friend. But in her unfamiliar heels, every step was a challenge. As she raised her foot to get onto the small platform at the front of the room, her heel caught on the edge, sending her reeling into the mic. O
h, G
od. Feeling her face flame, Emma combed her dark hair forward to cover her cheeks and shrank behind Alice.

‘Whoa!’ Suzy shot a grin in Emma’s direction and grabbed the swaying mic before it crashed onto the stage. ‘Looks like we’re off to a flying start already! So what are you going to sing, ladies?’

‘“Like a Virgin”,’ Alice said, taking the mic from Suzy and smiling around the room.

Emma’s mouth dropped open, and she poked Alice from behind. ‘That’s not what we decided!’

‘Oh, yeah, sorry. I mean “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”,’ Alice said.

But it was too late. The opening chords of Madonna’s all-too-familiar hit song were filling the room, and Alice just shrugged as the techie handed Emma the other microphone and pointed to a small screen displaying the words.

Stone-cold sober despite her best efforts, Emma lowered her head even more and backed further into the shadows, praying the next few minutes would be over fast. But she should have known her friend wouldn’t let her off easily. As the chorus approached, Alice tugged Emma forward, gesturing for her to take over the song. Emma froze for a moment, blinded by the bright light as the backup music thumped in her ears.

She was going to
kill
Alice.

‘Come on! Sing!’ The crowd erupted into encouraging claps and whistles, and Emma glanced at the screen in front of her.
Well, here goes nothing,
she thought, opening her mouth.

Emma managed to squawk out a line, cringing at the feedback echoing through the system. Oh, God. ‘Come on, everyone join in!’ she shouted in desperation. Luckily for her, the crowd—amped up on alcohol—didn’t hesitate, yelling out the chorus enthusiastically.

Alice stepped forward to join her, and Emma couldn’t help trading a smile with her friend. Now that the audience was with them, this wasn’t so bad. She
could
cut loose, after all. She even added a little hip swivel for good measure, almost toppling over on her sandals. Okay, forget the hip swivelling.

By the time the song came to an end, Emma’s cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing. As Alice grabbed her hand and they bowed to the rapturous audience applause, Emma couldn’t remember when she’d last had such a great time.
Singing!

Who would have thought?