Hello! Here's my new project, just in time for the holidays (: I can't believe soon it'll be a year since I wrote and published my first Clamy story ever...It's been an amazing year, and for that I thank you my lovely readers. Hope you like this, and sorry for the short first chapter, but you'll get more very soon. Merry Christmas and happy New Year everyone!
It was just another performance, nothing complicated for an experienced singer like Clara. She just had to go out there, sing a few jazz songs and smile for the small crowd that filled the club. She always got requests to have drinks with people after the show, which she usually accepted because it was good for attracting regular customers. However, she had never expected to get a request from the ginger sitting on the front row. She had seen her before, on her barmaid shifts, but never on her night show. She didn't know much about her, only that she was Scottish and she was the club's main alcohol supplier, which was saying something considering the manufacturing and distribution of alcohol was illegal.
Clara made sure her makeup and hair were perfect before leaving her small changing room. Getting drinks from a beautiful woman was rare those days.
The woman stood up from her chair and -when she finally made it to her table- took one of Clara's hands, which she kissed gracefully. "I just wanted to say what a beautiful show it was, miss. Please, sit with us for a moment." She gestured to the empty chair next to hers.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name, miss...", Clara started as she sat down.
"Pond, Amelia Pond."
"Clara Oswald. I must say it's refreshing to find someone that comes pretty much from home being so far away", Clara said with a smile. She honestly was glad that she was from Britain just like her; it had been so long...
"I feel exactly the same, miss Oswald." Once they were seated, she ordered one of her men to get both of them a drink. "One can only stand so much time surrounded by Americans alone".
The conversation continued and Clara learnt that miss Pond had just moved permanently to New York, and she had in fact bought the speakeasy. She didn't ask much, but she noticed that the Scot had a huge power and lots of men under her command. She was a gangster in every sense of the word, and Clara found her fascinating. Suddenly, her job seemed a lot more interesting.
At the end of the night, Miss Pond offered Clara a ride home. She wouldn't normally accept that kind of offer, but given she was her boss she couldn't argue.
"D'you live alone, Clara?" She had asked her to call her by her first name; after all she was her boss.
"No, I live with my grandmother. We moved to America together after the War." Clara seated on the back seat next to Amelia, and she was struggling to decide whether to look at her or not.
After a few seconds of a slightly awkward silence, the Scottish girl spoke again. "Clara, can I ask you something?" She waited for the brunette to nod before continuing. "How did a pretty English girl like you ended up working in my club?"
Clara didn't miss her 'pretty' observation, but pushed it to the back of her mind to answer. "I enjoy it. I like singing and I like the edge of it all."
"Aren't you scared of getting caught? Being thrown into jail if something goes wrong?" Amelia seemed to be studying the way she responded; she was testing her.
"Are you?", Clara snapped back. For a split second, she got worried that she had gone too far, but relaxed when the woman chuckled.
The car stopped and Clara mumbled something like goodbye. The Scottish said that it had been nice meeting her and that she was looking forward to see her at work. Once Clara closed the car door, she watched her walk to the building's entrance and waited for her to enter before instructing the driver to head to her own flat.
"Clara Oswald", she said to herself. "I bet we're gonna have fun."