Page 12 of The Cruise Club

Carmen took a moment to look around the room at the grinning faces. Momentarily freed from Betty’s clutches, Carmen realised that she was happy and turned to Fran, who returned her smile.

‘Would you like a drink?’ Fran asked, ‘Sid’s getting a round in.’

A server took their order, and as Peter announced the next act, Carmen sipped a creamy liqueur while Fran nestled beside her, cradling an Athenian Mule.

‘Don says he met the comedian earlier,’ Fran commented as the stage curtains opened. ‘He and Debbie had a chat with him.’

‘Did Don say that the comedian was funny?’

Fran slurped through a straw. ‘I’m sure he’ll be hilarious,’ she replied. ‘Hopefully, Don’s observations will improve once Dicky Delaney’s act gets started.’

‘Why, what did Don say?’ Carmen was intrigued.

Fran patted Carmen’s arm reassuringly. ‘Don is from Yorkshire,’ she explained.

Carmen was puzzled.

‘Don described Dicky as a joke book with the pages missing, a bit like watching paint dry.’ Fran stared ahead. ‘But I’m sure he’ll be good…’

Chapter Seven

Dicky stood at the side of the stage as Melody took her curtain call and lapped up the thunderous applause. As he waited, aware that the stage manager stood alongside, Dicky’s smile was strained, and he clapped too enthusiastically, masking the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Damn! Melody was good.

As Melody approached, Dicky took a deep breath, attempting to play it cool. He wondered how the hell he was going to follow her and hoped that the crowd hadn’t peaked too early and some of the old-timers didn’t drift off to bed.

When Melody saw Dicky, she stopped and gave him the once-over. ‘Are you about to tell your jokes at a funeral?’ she asked, taking in his black suit, crisp white shirt and patent leather shoes. ‘From what I hear, when the audience gets wind of your act, they will be wishing they were dead.’

Dicky fumed. He had no idea what Melody had against him or why she was hostile, but there was no time to exchange insults. Peter was announcing his act.

‘Please welcome to the stage,’ Peter addressed theaudience, ‘and give a bigDiamond Starwelcome to the one and only… DICKY DELANEY!’

‘You did your best,’ Dicky smiled at Melody, ‘but now it’s time for the real show to start. Thanks for warming up the audience and setting the bar low, now I’ll go and raise it.’

Before Melody could snap out a retort, Dicky swept past and took the mic from Peter. Standing in the spotlight, he held up his hand and indicated to the band that they begin to play.

As the introductory bars of ‘Staying Alive’ by the Bee Gees began, Dicky launched into a lively, tongue-in-cheek rendition of the song. As he belted out the familiar chorus, the energy in the room returned, and by the time he finished, the audience was clapping along.

‘You know you’re getting on a bit when that song becomes less of a pop tune but more of a daily goal,’ Dicky said, making eye contact and nodding to guests on the front row. ‘On a cruise, staying alive means getting to the bar before the gin runs out!’

Laughter in the room was light, but Dicky continued.

‘Welcome aboard to those of you who’ve just joined the ship. I hope you love cruising as much as I do, where you can eat and drink for twenty-four hours a day, and nobody judges you. At the seafood buffet, someone asked me what the catch of the day was?’ Dicky looked puzzled. ‘I replied – heart disease if you keep eating like this!’

‘Is that the best you’ve got?’ a man in the audience called out. ‘Where’s the real comedian?’

Dicky held his hand to his brow, shading the light as he searched for heckler. ‘I’d like to thank this gentleman tonightfor making me look good. It’s a tough job, but someone had to do it!’

The audience laughed, but the heckler continued. ‘I’m more entertained by the ship’s emergency drill than you,’ he said.

‘I recognise that voice,’ Dicky’s eyes alighted on Don, who sat with folded arms in the third row. ‘It’s Don and Debbie from Yorkshire, everyone!’ Dicky said as a spotlight highlighted the couple. ‘Tell me, Don, what’s a Yorkshire man’s secret to a long life?’

Don, who’d been nudged into silence by Debbie’s sharp elbow, merely shrugged.

‘Come on, Don, you can do better than that,’ Dicky encouraged, drawing more laughter from the audience. ‘It’s a strict policy of never spending more money than necessary,’ Dicky quipped, then quickly continued, ‘Why did the Yorkshire man bring a ladder to the pub?’ He spread his arms to invite a reply. ‘Because the drinks were on the house!’

Don sank low in his seat.

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