The stage was built, the soldiers were waiting loudly but patiently, and the two glorious females that were to grace the stage with their much anticipated presence were on the grass hill, bracing themselves for the descent down the worn concrete steps and onto the red carpet that crossed the beach and led to the stage. Mr and Mrs Tripoli were on the stage announcing the act, getting the crowd warmed up, not that they needed any more warming up under the intense Greek sun. On this side of the island it was more shaded, and it was drawing closer and closer to sunset with only a few hours of shining sun left. The tall, swirling, dark green olive trees swayed gently in an ever so slight sea breeze, and the sea gently lapped up against marble white rocks and golden sand on this crescent shaped beach in the middle of paradise.
Rose was going through the dance steps in her mind whilst Emmanuelle sorted her sparkling silver flapper dress. On the back of this dress was a zip that each girl would unzip for the other, revealing both of them in their bra and underwear one at a time. After that, it was a slow strip tease until the large feather fans were introduced, hiding their entirely naked selves and maintaining at least an ounce of their dignity. Rose knew the dance, and she knew the song, but she still got incredibly nervous on stage, and this wasn't just another play or an ordinary song. It was a strip show for over a hundred aroused men who haven't touched a woman in God only knows how long! Emmanuelle was less nervous, as she would no doubt be performing the routine later on that night with a few of the soldiers and a king size bed.
Alexander and James had managed to persuade Jack to stick around and watch the show. He wasn't feeling particularly jovial, but he didn't want to be the only man walking away from the prospect of two naked women on a stage, singing and dancing. Not only that, they had flown all the way from California to be here for the soldiers. It was only polite he stayed for the show. He didn't understand what all the hype was about. He had never heard the song or even seen the two women in his life. Hopefully they lived up to their expectations and weren't just a couple of whores with their own movie. Some of the men had called Rose the house-wife equivalent of Marilyn Monroe; blonde, feisty, mysterious, quiet when she wanted to be, but full of life and the soul of the party most of the time. Some of the soldiers had placed bets on who could sleep with Rose, even though she was married with kids. Jack didn't think this was particularly funny or manly. It was really quite pathetic. Emmanuelle on the other hand seemed like the kinda girl you could get into bed pretty easily... or at least that is what Jack had heard.
Rose stood on the top step, looking at the stage and the crowd ahead of her, the glowing blue sky and the green ocean. It was like a bride standing at the church door, taking in the sight of the blood red isle she has to walk down, the Vicar at the altar, the family and friends all seated, waiting patiently for the brushing bride to arrive... although to compare what she was about to do to a wedding was absurd. What Rose was doing now was something she was excited about, and it was all in good fun (she took it less seriously than Emmanuelle), but marriage... that was a feeling Rose would never forget. Seeing Richard turn around to face her at the altar, and the way his eyes lit up as he saw her in her wedding dress for the first time. That warm rush of love that surges through your body and goes straight to your head like a glass of wine gulped down in one. That's what Rose felt the day she said, "I do" to Richard. It was a feeling she would never forget, and a feeling she would never feel again. It wasn't that she didn't still love Richard, she did, of course she did. But those first few years of their relationship, the playfulness, the excitement of it all, the adventure. Now... marriage seemed like a repetitive routine which Rose could not escape from. Perhaps that's why she was so excited by the prospect of coming to Greece. A change of scenery and some time apart was what they both needed.
And then it began. A drum roll, a flurry of brass instruments, and then a steady beat of four counts. It was time. The command had been given from the band behind the stage, hidden from sight. Their instrument players had arrived a few hours before the girls as they had to set up and tune their instruments before playing. The population of this small island had increased dramatically over the past few weeks, with the soldiers, the band and the cabaret girls, but the people of the island could not have been more hospitable. And then, without further adieu, that march down the isle that every bride must make began.
Emmanuelle was first, jumping down the steps two at a time, landing on the red carpet like a burning silver comet from space, adorned with gems and glitter, crash landing on this tropical little land with all of its might. By the time she was halfway up the carpet, doing the Charleston and the jitterbug as she went, the men were already going wild. Hats went up in the air, as did some shirts and quite a possibly a man's underwear may have ascended from the cheering crowds. And then, it was time for Rose to descend the stairs, slowly, sultry, sexy. One foot at a time, she took a breath, the band silenced, a piano began to trill, and then she began...
You've been working hard my baby
I've been missing you like crazy
Tell me you love me a lot
And if you're hot then take it off
Her voice drifted on the sea breeze, weightless and heavenly, hypnotically silencing all of the men, apart from the odd whistle and cheer. Jack turned his head in an attempt to look behind him and see who the beautiful voice belonged to, but his efforts were wasted. He was in the middle of this throbbing heartbeat, unable to fight against its arousal. But that voice... my God... Jack was entranced.
Tired of the 9 to 5
We're on Earth, but not alive
Let's play rough, I won't play soft
And if you're hot then take it off
Yes if you're hot then take it off... Hit it!
On the words "Hit it!" The band roared back up again with all their might, the soft piano drowned out. The trumpets, trombones and drums rang out, and Rose ran down the steps, joining Emmanuelle in the middle of the red carpet to act out their first piece of synchronised choreography. A 20s style of dancing, kicking the legs behind yourself, then out in front, hand up in the air, then down by your side. Jerking, spinning, all perfectly time with one another, in tune and in time with the band expertly. Every beat of the drum had a move, and every gliding note of the trumpet or trombone was complimented with a stylized spin.
With the live band now in full swing and both girls running towards the stage, every man was now on fire! Shirts were coming off, and as the women appeared on the stage, they were tossed forward, sweat stained and worn, like dead flowers. One shirt landed at Emmanuelle's feet. She picked it up, shoved down her cleavage in her own elegant manner, and then threw it back out into the crowd. Jack laughed slightly as two men almost had a fist fight over the sweaty garment.
Rose watched the way Emmanuelle played the crowd, and that was something she did admire about her. Emmanuelle was so at home doing this, and she really did make the men feel like part of the action. There was no denying that she was good at what she did.
Come here now my little honey
This feeling inside is kind of funny
I've never felt so very hot
I guess that I'll just take it off
And with that, Emmanuelle had turned her back to Rose, and with a cheeky wink to the audience Rose had slowly walked towards Emmanuelle, grabbed the zipper on the back of the flapper dress, a drum roll beginning, slowly building, breath held in suspense within the crowd, and in seconds the zip was down, the dress was tossed out to the soldiers, and another brawl began for it. Jack was laughing hysterically now. How desperate were these guys? But joking aside, he was truly impressed with the blonde girls voice. She was indeed very talented, and they both had well rehearsed choreography to match. He hadn't seen their faces so much, and now that he was here and actually enjoying himself, he wanted to. They had great figures, the blonde being more curved than the brunette. Jack approved.
"You glad you came, buddy?" James shouted through the noise.
"Yeah actually, I am!" Jack replied, smiling.
James was happy to see Jack happy. God knows it had been while. And now, the instruments quietened, the audience grew hushed, clapping along with a more intense drum beat that had begun to echo across the beach.
Surrender your heart to the beat of the drum
Oh look at us honey what have we become
Dance all night and sleep all day
Brace yourself for midnight play
Drinking all the proper stuff
Can't stop now, we've not had enough
Look at you, my you're so hot
I think that you should take it off
And now, both girls stood stationary, facing out the crowd, about to perform their second piece of synchronised dancing. Jack tapped his foot and clapped his hands to the beat of the drum, truly surrendering, not only to the infectious beat, but melting like a block of ice at the sound of her radiant voice. So quirky and full of joy, and a playful seduction, as if she wasn't even aware of what her voice could do to the men around her. The dark haired girl, in her current state of near nudity was only dancing, but the blonde had the full package. Her voice alone was winning over the crowd, and she was still fully dressed.
Rose looked out to the sea over the heads of the soldiers. She never liked to look the audience in the eye too much. It only reminded her of all the eyes watching her, and she was nervous enough already. Acting for a camera was easy. It was just a lens and a camera man. Acting on stage, as enjoyable as it was, was harder than acting for the camera. She was counting the beats of the drum in her head, preparing herself, the next dance step was just about to start, and then she would . . .
Rose froze on the spot.
Emmanuelle continued to dance, the music still blaring, full of life and energy. Rose still did not move. Emmanuelle looked at her, confused. Had she forgotten the steps? It couldn't be possible; Rose knew it just as well as she did, if not better! Was it stage fright? She was looking into the crowd with a kind of terrified look on her flawless face, her mouth open, her eyes wide.
The soldiers had noticed it now, and they had noticed the look of confusion on the near naked Emmanuelle's face. The band, unable to actually see the girls, continued to play, following their sheet music religiously, knowing the girls had it under control on the stage... only they didn't. For some reason, Rose had lost control. Very calmly and quietly she had just stopped functioning, standing there like a statue.
Emmanuelle couldn't keep it going on her own. Rose was the singer; she was the most important part of the double act. Emmanuelle stopped dancing and walked over to Rose. Putting a concerned hand on her trembling shoulder she asked, "Are you alright, honey?"
And then suddenly, without so much as a whimper, Rose ran off the stage as fast as she could, deserting her partner, no explanation, no obvious reason, no warning... nothing.
All the soldiers watched as Rose ran across the red carpet and towards the grass hill at the opposite end of the beach. She could feel all of their gazes on her, but one was killing her more than the rest.
Emmanuelle watched as Rose ran off, and slowly the band began to die down, one by one each instrument dropped out until eventually Emmanuelle was left alone and undressed.
Silence.
Awkwardly, she piped up, "She's feeling a little bit seasick, I'm sorry guys. We City girls aren't so used to travelling as you guys are!"
The crowd laughed a little, feeling sympathy for Rose rather than wanting to boo her. But one soldiers face never flinched or cracked a smile.
Jack had frozen on the spot. He suddenly felt sick, everyone around him faded into blackness, their voices merging into nothingness.
As soon as she laid eyes on him he knew that he recognised her... and it seemed that she recognised him too.
Rose ran up the concrete steps, almost tripping over her silver heels. Stopping for a moment to pull them off and toss them aside, she then continued to run, now on the grass verge, away from the beach, pushing her way through a thick forest of foreign green trees and tropical plants. The branches pulled at her dress and got caught in her blonde hair as she attempted to make her way back to the town. How was this possible? Her stomach was in knots and she didn't know whether she wanted to scream or sob. Those icy blue eyes staring back at her from the crowd had done this to her. She had gone from standing tall on stage to on her knees, shaking, crying. Older faced perhaps, but the eyes were still the same. Eyes like that can never change. She tried to convince herself that she was wrong, but she knew she wasn't.
It was him... it was Jack.