Alex had arrived early for his Friday shift and made note of the team of audio engineers setting up a full rig in the bar. He shook his head and complained to Neil "God, Karaoke was a thing I thought I left behind in California. My foster sister Sabina loves singing. She, the persuasive minx that she is, even got me to murder a few songs." Alex thought karaoke was the devil's own invention. Forced to listen to bad timing, out of tune and some indescribably bad attempts at singing. There was a chance one of his bosses would suggest he sing as well. Neil would make sure the volume never too loud to drown out conversation and all the serious drinkers stayed by the bar anyway.
"It's entertainment for a special party, all arranged last minute. I can't complain they paid up front for a fully catered buffet and a large running tab on the bar, champagne all the way. There's five extra staff to cover tonight as well." Neil hoped he was being general enough not to give the game away about this special school reunion. To think their Alex had gone to such an exclusive boarding school with the sons of several notable billionaires. At eight was the big reveal, friends, family and workmates had been tracked down and invited.
Alex frowned, he could bet it was a hen do. The pub seemed to be averaging one a weekend over the summer. Rowdy and raucous drunk girls trying to chat up the gay barmen and clientele. All harmless flirting for all concerned.
As he went to make sure there was plenty of ice stored for wine buckets, which was the first item of thirty on the checklist Neil had handed him. The boss himself was busy going through service requirements, the running tab and the location of everything with the agency staff. In the cellar he pondered on the cryptic email he'd received from Joe, 'See you this weekend, Spooky, Book a table for lunch at your pub on Sunday. Must meet your Si. Only in London for a few hours. Flight to Bali at 10 on Monday morning'. Sounded like he had hastily arranged a stopover, just to catch up with his old school chum. Only it had been a prison and not a school. He shuddered at the thought of that awful place and how all the kids had suffered. He'd been there the shortest, but it still completely creeped him out. Maybe it was the fact that Julius had been such a sick and vicious bastard. Alone with the hum of the large catering freezers and the odd gurgles from the barrels of beer, Alex choked back a sob, placing his hand over his mouth to keep from alerting anyone to his sudden emotional breakdown. Some things you never get over, his grief for Jack still lanced like pure agony that no amount of talking or psychoanalysis could cure. He wished he could have called her mom and that it had meant that. Only he never committed to being family. He had been emotionally crippled by the boxes Ian and later Blunt had forced him to accept as a child. He was stuck trying to rationalise what the fuck Si saw in him, he was broken. The man that stood here was a facsimile of the millions of shattered fragments left after MI6 had finished with him.
With the inner strength he had learned from his sensei's, he calmed his breathing, ordered his thoughts to the job at hand and stomped down on his hurt, putting that to the back of his mind. The katas were more than physical discipline. Karate had saved him from death many times, but also from insanity, stopping the darkness consuming him as he could stay in the present and keep going. It had helped him survive when he had no hope left. Now, he had home, friends and family again. The past horrific in places, but he had to remind himself of the good things not the bad. The present was good and he had to keep himself concentrating on that. The future, well a house could fall on him tomorrow, because fate was a bitch. Maybe he should be more like the ancients and leave offerings to Tyche. That was something to discuss with Stella when he next saw her.
…
By six, Alex had finished his checklist and was glad to get back to the bar and do some proper work. There was quite a large area roped off for this party, Neil must be making big bucks tonight, the wine fridge in the catering kitchen was full of Crystal Champagne as well as the catering firm busy setting up to feed the five thousand. Alex then asked "Is it some one famous?"
Alex's boss pondered that question a moment, before not quite answering the question directly. "Not really, if you know the music business well, you might have heard of them. Producer of two, no three hit records and done a film soundtrack, that sort of thing. I don't think its an official launch or anything, just a private party. They wanted somewhere the paparazzi did not frequent. Wandsworth Common isn't exactly the West End. Then again Clapham is the new Chelsea. Hip and Happening." Neil then sighed, "We have bouncers on tonight. The bar is now covered. I think you and I can go have a cup of tea upstairs before this place gets manic. I doubt Craig will join us. Once he's in the kitchen working, he won't stop until the last tray is served to his exacting requirements. He has hired in other chefs so he'll be all Gordon Ramsay on them."
Neil had sat for about a minute before he was called downstairs again. Alex pulled out his brand new iPhone and emailed Si and then Joe. He was in a rum mood. Melancholy and reflective, he guessed Neil had picked up on the fact he was acting a bit weird. He really did not like change and the pub was full of strangers. It made his skin crawl. It was oh so tempting to make a second cup and stretch his break out for another ten minutes, but he went downstairs to get back into the thick of it.
…
At seven thirty, the fact the party had not started meant Alex was sipping a glass of water leaning against the back of the bar, trying not to think about the possibility of being forced to sing. Then he spotted Lee and Christian ordering pints off Gareth, the chatty welsh temp. Alex went over to converse with his ex-flatmates. Normally at this time on a Friday the place would just be starting to get busy.
Lee was looking at the speakers at the back. "Nice set up for karaoke . Decent kit. Had a go yet, Alex?"
"No, I'm waiting for Neil to order me or someone to double dare me." Alex would never admit that Sabina had resorted to good natured double dares, as only a sister can. "I don't drink on the job, so its not a case of getting blotto and just embarrassing myself."
"Double dare sounds a bit dangerous." Christian thought about the repercussions, as Alex never seemed to do anything overly dangerous or outside his comfort zone.
"Speciality from my teen years, hence getting arrested twice. Luckily never charged. Ran away twice as well. Well, thats what you get for nine foster placements in 15 months." Alex liked to describe the legends as failed family placements… he'd been Felix Lester, then Alex Friend, Alex Gardiner, Alex Sarov, briefly thought of as Paul Drevin, then Abdul Hassan, then kidnapped and called Jonathan, Alex Brenner in Cairo, before back to plain old Alex Rider, foster son of Edward and Liz Pleasure. "Then again, if I sing first. I don't have to do it again; no matter what kind of bribery or emotional blackmail you guys try to use."
With that Alex strode up and went through the selection process. There were a lot to choose from. He was looking for one of Jack's favourite songs to sing when she had a broken heart and was thoroughly miserable. He'd even sung along with her a few times, it always reminded him of Jack the soppy romantic. It was hard to think of the fact she'd been 19 years older than him. Already finished her Masters Degree when she started working for Ian. She had been one of those people that never seemed old. With practically an empty bar, Alex did not have to sing a happy or upbeat song, just one to fit his mood. It was a good karaoke song anyway, a thoroughly soppy ballad.
With his deep clear voice Alex started to sing, closing his eyes to pretend there was no one overhearing his pathetic attempts to mimic Justin Hayward. "The summer sun is fading as the year grows old…"
As he finished he thought back to the real reason for his complete breakdown in San Francisco. When packing up the house in Chelsea, before leaving London he had opened a letter Jack had written and not given him. She had already decided to leave him to go back to Baltimore. The trip to Cairo was not an attempt from her to strengthen their relationship but a last hurrah before giving up on him, leaving him to god knows what. He had built his normal life based on her and his home in Chelsea. He had been devastated by her death, but the reality was she had already decided to leave him.
He could hear clapping, not half hearted get off the stage pronto slow pathetic curtain call, but a crowd in full on applause . He opened his eyes to see Simon, Neil, Christian, Lee and Craig and the newly arrived party group. He slowly recognised James Sprintz, his father Dieter, then Cassian, Hugo, Joe, Tom, Nicholas, Paul and Dimitry. At the back were Edward, Liz and Sabina. Paul Roscoe lifted up his glass of Champagne and spoke in a loud clear voice. "The belated 10th anniversary reunion of the Point Blanc Academy Class of 2001 is now in session. Someone for god's sake give our guest of honour and class president a glass of bubbly. Shit Alex, you can sing. I thought Sabina was pulling our leg when she said karaoke was one of the few times you opened up about all the crap you survived."