Thirty-One (Heather); Favors.
"Steve! My God you've still got the same SIM card!" I lean back in my chair, practising (and no doubt failing!) a composed, professional and elegent stace, which is rather toned down by the fact one hand is waving around like it's got a mind of it's own (which it probably has!), and I'm squealing. I hear my friend Stephen chuckle.
"Just in case you decided to call, babe!" he says camply. Steve has gotta be one of the gayest guys I know, bless him! "It's been aaaaaaaaaages since I spoke to you!!" See what I mean? "How's the husband?"
"You say that like he's some dangerous animal!" I giggle.
"And isn't he?" Steve asks, and I can hear the implication in his tone.
"None of your fucking business..." I mutter hotly, feeling my face growing red. Steve just chuckles darkly and I sigh. "So, what've you been up to since the wedding?" I question, partly to change the subject and partly because I'm genuinely interested.
"Started up a band." Steve replies airily, as if he started up bands every other weekend.
"Cool!" I exclaim. "What sorta stuff d'you play?" I grin, then look confused as Steve laughs sheepishly. "What?"
"Well, you remember that band you used to play at me all the time?"
"Queen?"
"No, the one with the freaky pervy dude and the silly hair and name."
"Oingo Boingo?" I start giggling, picturing Danny's expression if he ever heard Steve's description of him.
"Yeah, that one. The one with the weird name."
"You do Boingo songs?" I can't stop giggling, and Steve laughs.
"Yeah, y'know that CD you burned me ages ago? I've got the guys learning the songs from it. But we hit a problem."
"How hard? And what did the problem ever do to you?"
"Heather!"
"Sorry!" I grin. "What's the problem?"
"Well," Steve takes a deep breath and I wonder what I've let myself in for asking for his explanation. "There's a load of other songs we wanna do, but we can't because my voice doesn't go high enough and I ain't gonna have someone crunching my balls every time I have to hit a high note. Fancy coming to England and singing for us?" he quips. I'm still giggling at his description of how he'd be needing to get his high notes.
"As a matter of fact, Steve babe, right now I'm in a house just outside London."
"What??!!" I hold the phone away from my ear as Steve shrieks at me. "When?? Why didn't you tell me?!"
"Stephen, breathe!" I instruct him, laughing. He makes an annoying squealing noise, then a very fake intake and outtake of breath. "Thank you."
"Yeah." He pretends to pant. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Steve, I thought you would've figured it out, what with Tim being over here to direct and all!" I roll my eyes as Steve squeaks again.
"The husband's in England too? Directing?!"
"Steve, don't you ever watch the news or anything?"
"No..."
"Well, that rather figures!" I laugh.
"Yeah, whatever!" Steve sounds like he's pouting. "Anyway," he says as I giggle again. "Will you come and sing for us, then?"
"Well..." Do I really want to leave Tim for a few days...?
"Pleeeeeeease...!" Steve whines in his very best 'I'm a little brat, gimme what I want and I'll shut up!' voice. "We want to try and get some gigs, but unless you help and sing, we won't be able to...!"
"Okay, okay!" I sigh; I'm as soft as muck sometimes!
"Thank yoooooou!!!" he trills. "You won't regret this, I promise!!"
And if that doesn't sound ominous I don't know what does!
Chapter 30 ; Contents ; Chapter 32
