Chapter 23

"Well?" Serena asked, standing as I walked back into recption.

"I should live long enough to get home and even to the bar tonight. I think we need to celebrate."

As we walked back the way we had come toward Oxford Circus tube station we passed a chemist so I popped in. "I'd like a thermometer please," I asked the woman behind the counter. "One that won't get broken easily if I use it every day travelling."

"You'll be best with one of these digitals," she answered bringing out a box. "I used this type when I was trying for a baby."

Looking at the picture of what looked like a plastic ice-lolly I handed over the cash and thanked her. "Good luck" she called as Serena and I were going through the door. "My boy will be two soon."

Throughout the trip back Serena kept nudging me to talk until we managed to grab the front seat on the driverless Docklands Light Railway which kept her quiet for a while. It wasn't until we were sitting down with Litara, finishing our risotto, that I let it out.

"I haven't got cancer and I'm no more likely than anyone else to get it. I can't have children at the moment but there is a chance I might be able to one day though it is more likely to be from my eggs than my sperm!"

It was Litara who recovered first. "What do you mean eggs? You've got eggs?"

"Maybe" I explained as well as I could. "I have to see a doctor in a month because I might have internal bleeding."

"You mean a period? You can't have a period, you've got a dick!" butted in Serena as subtle as always.

At that point I couldn't help but laugh. "The doctor noticed that too, scanning it yesterday. I think the word he used was adequate. What he definitely did say today is that if I do become fertile as a woman and that becomes publicly known the media will have a feeding frenzy so please be dicrete as I only intend close family and you to know at the moment Serena."

"Enough about me. We need to choose clothes and get ready to party!."

Tonight's choice was Litara's as when enough of her friends were in London to justify it they would get together for a music night at their favourite, understanding, pub. She'd explained that nearly everyone who came would play or sing and there were several professional musicians but to keep the atmosphere friendly professionals weren't allowed to play their usual instruments or music and karaoke backing tracks were common.

Knowing that Serena and I would be the youngest there I suggested we try to fit in. Serena on the other hand believed in 'if you've got it flaunt it' so I'm sure her dress was shorter than the ones she wore for tennis while the length of my outfit was more decorous at the expense of a split skirt and top that tended to display rather than defend my assets. Maybe Litara winced when she saw us; I knew though that we were both OTT and outgunned when I saw her simple choice of jeans and a split-necked summer jumper.

As it turned out we were not the only young people in the pub that evening and the eldest must have been 70. With a drink under their belt people soon started getting up to have a go on the makeshift stage. It might have been amateur night but the standard was high and I was particularly impressed by the 70 year old who played a Django Reinhardt piece and a girl called Nora who was trying out a new song called Don't Know Why.

Serena and I had ended up sharing a table with what seemed to be two straight couples until the girls kissed. That left Serena and I to handle the men and I took against the one facing me as he had this really phoney French accent and introduced himself as Jean-Luc. He was a 'Mr Cool' who had been everywhere, done everything and made a film about it. It really amazes me that there are girls that fall for this stuff and of course he was old, maybe even over 30.

Litara re-appeared with news that the backing track was arranged and we were on next because as newcomers we had to be seen to at least try. In fairness she had warned us and even heard us on the drive from Wales to London so she had only herself to blame if we embarrassed her. Serena and I of course would never see these people again so tonight, ‘for one night only’, we gave them It's Raining Men.

The crowd were forgiving of our effort as we finished, and were more than generous when comparing us to the real talent in the room. Mr Cool' though had to take things a step too far by telling us we could watch the video he'd taken of us for upload to shareyourworld..com.
"At your age I suppose you need to make home movies to help you remember what you were doing yesterday" I replied while thinking "I'd love to let him know the girl he's been trying to pull has something extra between her legs and has never been attracted to a man in her life!"

In fairness, 'Mr Cool' took his turn like everyone else, handing his disc over and settling on a high stool with a microphone to introduce in his atrocious French accent - L' êtê Indien

Within a minute as I listened to this complete phoney sing I discovered two things: - first, to hear his voice was like being hit in the solar plexus and second, i wanted his babies right here and now!

Two minutes… three minutes… then in a pause from his singing as the background music played on he quietly stood up; put the microphone on the stool and walked slowly over to the karaoke machine except… the magical voice returned!…with no Jean-Luc!…and continued until he pushed the button off!

The place erupted! Jean-Luc took a mock bow and his piece finished returned to our table.