Russ, Chris and George shared one table with Suzanne and the twins, whilst those that would be staying with Zyzzx shared the other, with Lucinda and Melanie. They found that after what they had been eating for the past week, the food was a disappointment. But then that was to be expected! Still, the champagne they chose was of the best standard and by ten they had eaten and drunk well and they were all ready for the cabaret.

The comedian opened the show himself, by telling his usual supply of risqué stories and rude jokes. Since she had first met him, all of those years ago, he had become much more professional and a good deal funnier. Even if now, he was perhaps a shade bluer. He was also very famous or even perhaps infamous, as he was now a hot property on television, where a sanitised version of his brand of humour made him the ideal host for puerile game shows.

He finished the first part of his act in a way that had become almost traditional in the club, by calling for the audience to add their own, to his extensive collection of the so-called Essex jokes. Five men and a couple of women came on to the stage and not one of the jokes was considered new or good enough, for any of his twenty pound rewards to be given. Each got the classic hisses and boos from the audience and was gonged from the stage by the comedian's appropriately and very scantily-dressed assistant.

***

'I see an old friend here!' A spotlight picked out Lucinda sitting at the table in the front row and he walked over to take her hand, kiss it and bring her to the centre of the stage.

'You wouldn't believe it, looking at her now, but this lady is a trapeze artist.' He raised his hand as if to call for something to be brought on. 'She usually needs two things for her act. Champagne!' Exactly to his cue, one of the waitresses walked onto the stage pulling a trolley carrying a galvanised dustbin doubling as the largest ice bucket Lucinda had ever seen. The bin contained several magnum and larger bottles of champagne. 'Now we need the trapeze!' Lucinda tried to double over to ease her amusement, as two trapeze, one of a normal size and a tiny one beside it, descended from the roof of the club, to peals of laughter.

As the trapeze dropped to a foot or so above the ground, she removed a headset and radio microphone similar to the one she had worn at Jacob's and placed it over her head. 'Ah! That's better! Can everybody hear me?' The audience left no doubt. 'I don't think I should do any tricks tonight!' She kissed the comedian, who reciprocated with an inane grin of pleasure. 'The balance is all wrong for that!'

'You can say that again!' He put his hand over the baby. 'It looks like you've done turned trick too many!'

'Be careful! I've got lots of witnesses!' He withdrew his hand. 'And I've got my lawyer over there! Chris! Come on down!' She'd always wanted to say that!

***

Chris was very reluctant to join them on the stage and it took a lot of pulling from the pair of them and a certain degree of pushing from George to get her to the centre.

'I thought she was your younger sister!' Chris blushed at the comedian's compliment. 'By the way, do you do divorces? The fourth wife's just left me!' The audience sighed at the news that had been all over the tabloid press for the last week. 'It would at least be nice to have someone on your side, who was good looking! I take it you've got brains as well!'

For perhaps the first time in many years, Chris could say nothing. Familiar as she was to appearing in front of large meetings, conventions and sometimes even irascible and cantankerous judges, she found that standing in the harsh lights before this generally friendly but very boisterous audience was rather too intimidating and perhaps a touch embarrassing. So she accepted the comedian's kiss and a large bottle, before waving it to everybody and returning thankfully and very quickly to her seat.

'So, Lucinda!' He indicated for the small trapeze to be pulled away. 'Are you going to give us a show? Or are you in temporary retirement?'

'No! I'd better not! I'm a little bit tired!' She moved to and sat on the bar of the trapeze. 'You don't mind if I sit down!' She moved to one side. 'Come and sit beside me!'

'Is it safe?' Very gingerly, he joined her, making a meal of clinging tightly to both Lucinda and the supporting rope. 'This is frightening.' Lucinda was gently rocking the trapeze backwards and forwards with her feet. 'Ahhh!' He looked down at the ground in fear. 'Do you have a dual-control licence for this?'

'Oh! Yes!' She rocked it more violently, so that it was swinging through about ten feet. 'I did this once for charity with lots of people, two hundred feet up in the car-park at Caesar's Palace. Do you want to go higher?' The supporting ropes shortened by perhaps a foot.

'No! No! No!' As the trapeze swung forward, he stepped off and immediately fell flat on his face. He stood up, dusted himself off, wiped his face with his handkerchief and looked back at the smiling Lucinda. 'Women drivers!'

***

Lucinda had now reduced the movement to just enough to maintain her balance and was swinging demurely with her feet just off the ground and her hands clasped in front. 'Would anybody like to fly with Lucinda?' She deliberately shook the trapeze, feigning an overbalance. 'How high can we go in here?'

There were no takers and the audience had gone surprisingly quiet.

'No matter! I've a friend who once told me he'd like to do this. I think he's here, tonight! Where are you?' The spotlight started to roam the audience, picking out individuals, most of whom would have been totally unsuitable. Finally, the beam stopped and it narrowed to illuminate the programmer. 'Come on! I've already warmed the seat for you!'

He was reluctant to go to the stage and take up Lucinda's offer, but he trusted her and judging by the knowing look on his lover's face, he felt that Lucinda wasn't the only one who knew what was going to happen. He theatrically removed his jacket, proceeded to remove his cuff-links and roll up his sleeves, and then to roars of encouragement, he waved as he walked to the centre of the stage.

The comedian shook hands with him and then produced a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. 'Could you sign this? It absolves the club of any claims for damages, when you fall off!' Deliberately the programmer tore it into small pieces, which he sprinkled over the comedian.

The trapeze had now been lowered and he now sat down carefully beside Lucinda. She squeezed his hand to calm him, but also so she could feel his pulse. It showed that his heart was racing. She had done this many times before and would not do anything that would put either her unwilling partner or even herself into any danger, real or imagined. She needed for him to be completely, calm, relaxed and confident, before the trapeze rose more than a few feet above the ground.

Gradually, as the trapeze rose to perhaps six feet from the ground, she induced a slow swinging motion, showing him how to hang on with his left hand and hold on to her with his right. After perhaps a minute, she was able to see that his apprehension was starting to reduce, he was becoming more relaxed and the two of them now had a safe and steady rhythm. 'That's not so bad is it?' She took her hand from behind him and mopped his sweating brow.

'Lucinda, I have a couple of questions.' The comedian had now been joined by two of his more athletic bouncers, who were watching intently and making sure there would not be an accident.

'Go ahead!'

'I've got some questions to do with the insurance.' He retrieved another piece of paper and made as if to write something. 'They need to know when the baby's due?'

'Friday!' The audience gasped and the programmer gulped, as he realised what that meant.

'Oh! It says here, that I ought to put down, who the father is!' He waited until she swung forward again. 'You do know who the father is, don't you?'

Her piercing look gave a strong reply to the aspersions to her character. To laughter all round her left hand rose above the programmers head to indicate very publicly, that he was the father of the unborn child.

Copyright 1999 by Ewart Higgins