Confessions Of A Karaoke Queen by Ella Kingsley Read Free Book Online

wanted you to do was look after it. You don’t
have
to do this re-launch thing.’
    ‘I know.’ I yawn. ‘I just wish there was some other way … I know there’s a solution out there, if only I could find it.’
    Lou comes back in. ‘What do the others think?’ she asks, putting the tea down in front of me. ‘Two sugars – you need it.’
    ‘Thanks.’ I take a hot sip. ‘Who d’you mean?’
    Lou’s blonde head dips slightly. ‘Oh, just … Ruby and that lot.’
    I grin. ‘If you’re asking about Simon, yes, they’re all behind it.’
    Lou looks at me, wide-eyed. ‘I wasn’t!’
    ‘Sure.’
    ‘We have been talking a bit online.’ She smiles shyly. ‘He’s really sweet.’
    ‘I know,’ I say, looking at her sideways. ‘He’s a nice guy. You should ask him out.’
    ‘Maddie!’
    ‘What?’ I say, my karaoke troubles momentarily forgotten. I’m glad someone else’s love life has a pulse – not that I’ve got time right now for the emotional vampire that is the post-getting-dumped dating process. ‘Isn’t that what people do?’
    ‘I couldn’t possibly,’ says Lou primly.
    ‘He likes you, Lou – I can tell. He’s just shy, probably thinks you’re out of his league.’
    ‘Rubbish,’ she announces, but I detect a hint of a smile. She reaches for the biscuit tin. ‘I need a HobNob.’
    I grin at her. ‘Exactly!’

     
    That afternoon I shuffle into Sing It Back, ready to break the bad news. Ruby du Jour, clad in a leopard print jumpsuit and three-inch heels, greets me at the door.
    ‘Sweetie, where’ve you been?’ She gives me a fragrant hug and grabs my hand, leading me into the dank club. ‘We’ve already started thinking about the new decor,’ she babbles. ‘Jaz has got some
fabulous
ideas off those WAGS. Not that you’d catch
me
sitting around at home all day, waiting for my husband to come home. Those footballers, honest to god, they get paid a fortune – and for what? Did you know Steven Gerrard’s favourite meal is macaroni cheese?’
    I slip on to one of the bar stools, blinking back fatigue. ‘No, I didn’t know that.’
    The scene at the club breaks my heart a bit – and not for the usual reasons. Jaz and Archie are sitting in one of the mustard booths, scribbling on a piece of paper. The old man’s faceis aglow with excitement and even Jaz is focused on the task at hand. There’s an array of different-coloured pens on the table, and every so often Jaz reaches into her hair to take one out – or put one back, I can’t be sure. I wonder if she’s got a whole stationery set in there.
    ‘Hey!’ she says as I pour myself a Coke. ‘Check this out.’ She holds up a large piece of cardboard bearing a badly drawn portrait of what I think is meant to be Andre the guinea pig. She’s even used gold pen round the edge for a frame. ‘I thought we could have these dotted around,’ she suggests, ‘like those head shots at the hairdresser’s. It’ll be really unusual – and Andre’s got more than enough styles to carry it off.’
    The guinea pig himself scuffles across the table, nose twitching as he inspects his portrait, fussy as a connoisseur. He’s donning a silk waistcoat and socks. Honestly, what’s the point of bothering with a waistcoat if you’re not even wearing pants?
    ‘Um,’ I say, fiddling with the hem of my denim dress. ‘Well, the thing is—’
    ‘Now pay attention, Maddie,’ says Ruby, tweezing out a stray false eyelash. ‘Archie’s got some fantastic concepts for the new drinks menu.’ She leans across the back of the booth like a large cat. ‘Archie, take it away!’
    Archie clears his throat as he produces his own piece of paper, self-consciously showing his efforts. ‘Well, I ain’t much of an artist …’
    Unfortunately I have to agree. The concoctions he’s outlined, together with illustrations, are more round-the-bend than on-trend. One of them looks like an elaborate prawn cocktail, things sticking violently out of it at