“10pm and one session of 45 minutes.” In amongst the tables. I’m using that new mic unit.” “Not spending more money Sars!” “Bridge! Its only money! An its Christmas girl!” Dees started laughing almost, spilling her drink.
“Now you can see why I said about us changing into our onesies! No ucking drinks anywhere near that dress!” A knock at the door and soon Sasha was sat with them. “Lads are down in the main bar keeping an eye on the gear, I gave them the twenty towards drinks, from you Sars. Richard said it made a change from them, giving you twenty pound notes.”
“Cheeky b’stard! I always see him right when it comes to drinks after a gig.” “No Sars, you pay him his due, then get him to buy round after round of drinks. Which he does, thinking that one of these days he will be able to pluck your g’strings, instead of the usual ones he fingers, as lead guitarist.”
‘Torens was with them.” Sarah had slumped back against the fluffed up pillows. She sat up glared at Sasha.
“Well I think it was him, from how Bridge described him, pretty sure it was him.” Casual. Not wearing a suit or a jacket. Unusual for Torens. So was it him?
“Uck off Sars! I am not going all the way down to the bar, to see if it is him or not!” “Don’t look at me.” Sasha kicked off her heels. “My feet are already aching.” “I think given the description, it IS Torens.” Sarah settled back, sipped on her wine. “Last one of those for now, so sip it slowly! Don’t want you pissed, before tonights show.”
Curiosity, had Sasha asking more questions about Torens? A brief biopic that had a full blown discussion in progress transpired. Love each other? Why did she sense they did and yet, the words used by Dees re more of a sado, masochism on each others part, or was it parts!, kept coming to the fore.
“The Indie Red Rose competition was won by Cerise. Torens stole her, from under Sarah’s nose, by bribing her to represent his song. Don’t think that he, is Mr righteous; he’s not. He can be bloody devious when he wants to be and I agree with Sarah, re Troy and Danny? I think Torens encourages them.”
“Well it is suspicious how they know what Sarah is up to, where she will be gigging and other events including what happened in To, To.” Dees voice tails off as she glances at Sarah, a scowl forming? “That place earlier this year. It had to be Torens who gave them the relevant details. No one cept myself and Sarah knew, uhh maybe Torens!.”
“Well its true.” Bridge shook her head sat down. “If you hadn’t slept with him again, told him all
your plans?” Sasha’s eyes were flitting between Bridge, Dees and Sarah, amused by what was being said?
“Spitting, cursing, cussing at the guy and the next minute, both of you at it like ucking rabbits.” Dees smiled at Sasha. “Hence the Sado, masochistic bit I was talking about earlier.”
“Oh yes, the time you stabbed him.” “Bitch! That’s not fair. I had the knife in my hand and he grabbed at me, the knife piercing his skin. Not my fault, if he is going to be dumb enough to do that, with a knife in my hand!” “What about the time you baked a chocolate cake and fed it to him, the chocolate containing a laxative.
The fact you baked a bloody cake, should have been a warning on his part, to be suspicious girl!” Dees was laughing. “BItch!” “I know after that I felt sorry for the poor guy. You know the problems he had health wise earlier this year and you go do that!” “It was a mild laxative. Just enough to have him pre occupied for a few days. Nothing major.”
“Well it must have worked.” “Uhh?” “He wouldn’t eat anything Sars cooked, after that! Mind you Sarah seldom ever cooked, which was probably the reason for that. Small mercies eh Sars?” “Bitch!”
It would be a while later, when Sarah was nearing the end of her songs. In the middle of the tables. That favorite Christmas number of Torens. ‘He’s making a list, checking it twice.. naughty or nice, Santa’s coming to town.”
As she finished the song, those at the tables started to clap. A little bow of her head as she went to step back, Torens moved to where she was?
Within feet of her as a waiter appeared from between the tables. A tray on which was delicately balanced a jug containing cream? A young lad in his teens, seeing the waiter approaching and about to pass him, stuck his foot out?
The waiter tried to catch his balance, as the tray lifted, the jug thrown into the air and flung towards Sarah?
Torens had been a witness to the poor waiters dilemma. The jug in transit with the cream in it, as his hands reached out to grab at it, before it hit his girl? That beautiful Chiffon evening dress, her looking stunning and now this? Fingers gripped the bowl. He had it!
Now anyone who knows anything, about liquids and ‘inertia’ knows, whilst in transit the cream was trapped in the bowl? As Torens turned to look at his girl, the bowl in his fingers still held tight, the bowl brought to an abrupt halt?
The cream lifted from the bowl and to his horror, like some mini tsunami, an in rushing wave of cream, slapped against her. All across her face, dripping down and across her almost exposed, as he lovingly called them; piglets, now completely doused in cream.
The look on his face, could probably have been matched in equal measure; by the look on hers, almost throwing the bowl onto the nearest table, he had grabbed at a paper napkin to start dabbing at her, his tongue resisting the urge to lick at the cream which on reflection might be construed as most improper.
Her neck, scraping the cream from it and then her cleavage? All the time her face getting redder
and redder? A rasp of rage from her, a volcano about to erupt? Not that he was to be seeing that look for long!
He felt the full weight of her fist as it struck home, slapped under his jaw, lifting his head slightly, sending him reeling back. Wallop!, Trying to keep[ his balance, he tried to recover his stance, a second blow, as his jaw jerked upwards and he fell with a thud to the floor, out cold.
“Bloody hell, I would not like to upset her!” One of the diners looked at Sarah and then at Torens.
“Out of both of them, I’m not sure who got creamed the most!”