Page 43 of Girls Just Want to Have Sun

‘And make sure they givvus bottles with straws, not friggin’ glasses,’ yells Cherry.

Nope.

They totter over to the VIP section and are stopped by a burly doorman in a black suit. There’s an awful lot of low-cut spandex dress and tattooed thigh on show and I’m failing to see where the five hours in hair and make-up have gone. Mostly on strong, angry eyebrows by the looks of things. While they do still look spectacular, Tash is hobbling, her swollen ankle spilling over the straps of her shoe, Big Mand’s arm is swinging loosely by her side as though it has been recently sewn on and has yet to take properly, and Liberty has a single, water-filled blister running the full length of her nose, fried hair extensions and dry, severely cracked lips. They are making a right scene, and I imagine it will be only a matter of minutes before things turn ugly. I catch Matteo trading worried glances with the DJ.

‘Tell thefreebar people we’re with you, Connie. Why aren’t we on the friggin’ VIP list? Tell them we’re the main headliners and you’reoursupport act.’

I go over to the girls. ‘Tash. I think you’ll find you’re actually supposed to be on stage. You’re late.’

Tash, to give her credit, looks all confused. The Dollz dutifully back her up. ‘No, I don’t think we are, hun. We’re on after you.’

‘I’ve already been on,’ I say. ‘And I was great. As requested.’

‘Have you?’

After an uncomfortable silence, while they all flick their eyes drunkenly from one to another, blaming the time difference, I take a beat to wonder if I’ve been reading the situation all wrong. I’m suddenly not sure if the Dollz do have their act entirely together.

Matteo swoops in behind me. ‘Dollz. You have three seconds to get on stage,’ he barks. ‘You’re thirty minutes late, so there’s only time to do four songs. Make it quick. And up the tempo.’

Their faces drop as they take him in.

‘Who’s the bossy, hot Latino?’ Cherry says to Liberty as they click-clack their way to the stage, eyeing up Matteo as they go. ‘I wouldn’t mind a piece of that. Christ, I love a domineering type who knows exactly what he wants.’

‘Yes, I know what you mean,’ agrees Big Mand.

‘Showtime!’ bellows Big Sue, looking at her. ‘Bossy enough for you?’

It’s almost as though a switch has been flicked as the Dollz go into entertainment mode. The opening notes of ‘Push the Button’ blare out from the speakers, commanding instant attention. The Dollz strut onto the stage with all the crackling energy of a sold-out arena show. There are only five of them and yet they fill up all the space, travelling from one end to the other in perfect formation. Their moves, the timing, the twisting and turning is choreographed in such a way it’s hypnotic. Their body movements are so fast and light and in sync with the music that you can’t tear your eyes away in case you miss a bit. Hips are gyrating, leg splits are executed, they are making sexual shapes with their body parts. The upbeat singalong music choice, the costumes and the vocals combined create a sizzling performance.

They might be exasperating but they are impressively in time with all the harmonies and dance routines, and they go down a storm with the crowd, who have been singing and dancing alongwith them. They finish on a real banger, ‘Dancing in the Dark’, a high-octane dance anthem by Mickey Modelle. The lights go out and strobe lights flicker on the stage, giving us dramatic glimpses of their incredible routine. Even with only half a show, the mood is electric. They have nailed it. As they come off stage, I go over to congratulate them. They are barely out of breath.

‘Connie, where are the bubbles?’ Tash yells as Big Sue answers her phone. She comes to an abrupt halt, causing the Dollz to pile into the back of her. ‘Shit,’ she says to them. ‘It’s Nancy. She’s docked half our pay for doing half a show and demoted us back down to support. How does she find out so quick?’ Big Sue is shaking her head and tutting. ‘We’ve got one last chance. She’s very disappointed in the lot of us. She says to remember we are a team. A double act and we need to support each other. She also blamed Connie for not getting us here on time. Apparently, you’re the most experienced and should know better.’

They all look deflated.

Welcome to my world.

‘Follow me to the VIP section,’ I say. ‘I’ll get you some fizz.’

They don’t need telling twice. We crowd into the roped-off area and the Dollz go to work introducing themselves to the celebrities. They are scampering about like excited puppies.

‘Ooh, I love that French DJ. David whatshisface. Do that song!’ threatens Cherry, eyeballing him. ‘You know the new song with the… what’s it now? It’s a bit like that one about a car but norraz good. Play it anyway and we’ll do our TikTok dance for you, pet.’

The DJ flicks her an amused look.

‘The Nae Nae!’ she yells, suddenly thrusting her arms out.

Everyone stops to stare. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cherry knocking Liberty off balance. I try to catch her, butshe flails, hurling her drink right into Tash’s face. And in slow motion, a chain of unpleasant events unfolds.

Tash falls back, taking much of the VIP rope and the majority of the golden bollards with her. We watch helplessly as one of her pointy, chopstick-heeled stilettos flies off and slices through the air towards the DJ booth, hitting the Frenchman squarely in the throat. He stumbles back, upsetting a table full of flaming sambucas, which immediately sends the tablecloth, and nearby stage curtains, up in flames.

You couldn’t make it up.

The whole place gasps at the same time, as bouncers leap into action spraying fire extinguishers at the dancing blue flames while people race from the VIP area in panic. I look over at Tash and the other Dollz, and they are howling with laughter. They all think this is the funniest thing they’ve ever seen, until the barman flees past them, and they realise there is no one to serve them their bubbles.

Nancy is going to go ballistic when she hears about this.

15

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