NOT EVERYBODY’S OPERA

‘Idiot’ he thought as a London drunk knocked in to him as he stepped out of the car. Nathan made his way across the Strand and onto St Martins Lane, he paused, Trafalgar square or Leicester Square. Nathan didn’t have much time for either, street entertainers we’re not his thing, but nor were crowds of heinous tourists, ‘soho he must’ and with no desire to sit in London cab he moved quickly past Nelsons Column and up into China Town. The regular hustle and bustle was about, but Nathan had plans, he moved quickly, past the numerous restaurants and towards the alley way. He paused, checked his watch and turned swiftly to the battered old door between 2 lamp posts. He knocked and waited, as the world passed by, no one saw Nathan disappear off the street and into a Parisian facade.

As you enter the ‘Experimental cocktail club’ you are met with mirrors and a winding stair case. As he made his way up the stairs, Nathan paused briefly, the scene in the Mirror was one of true delight, he looked set. As he brushed through the bar door entrails the field of Parisian tables and chairs that met him were music to his eyes, a bar tender in neat attire and braces over the shoulder accosted him ‘drink sir’ .....’old fashioned’ Nathan responded ‘coming right up’ and with that the bar tender vanished. Nathan removed his coat and placed it on the back of the chair, once again he checked himself in the mirror and adjusted his bow tie. He sat, removed his wallet from his jacket pocket and starred at the tickets in front of him.

La Traviata, what joy, what pleasure. A mere 90 minutes until curtain up and with that, a quest to be completed. Nathan sat for some time, he witnessed hareems of undesirable girls drink simple cocktails and talk about men. He saw groups of men come and go with no real substance to their conversation or being, he eyeballed the snotty couple who wanted to pass judgement on everyone and then, just as he thought it was a fruitless task, she entered. Tall, long blonde hair and striking to boot, she wore a classy yet obvious black dress and she had caught Nathan’s eye. She walked to the bar and arranged a seat, Nathan and the girl caught eyes, she smiled, he did too....

She sat with her drink, a tequila based concoction, time was short, Nathan arose, walked across the room, stood by her table and very calmly, placed a ticket for the opera on her table, he looked, raised his eye brows ‘just a thought’ he said, and departed. Nathan made haste, down the stairs, out into the street and across China town, he squirrelled his way through the back streets and arrived opposite the colosseum. It had started to rain, he stood in a door way and removed his mobile phone.....he made a call ‘Chianti, charcuterie, manchego, olives, fire on, we’ll use the kitchen table, but make the west lounge comfortable, send the car for 10.30....that should do!’

At that moment he crossed the street, entered the music hall and made his way to his table out front, he sat and enjoyed the waiter placing the napkin on his lap, he looked the menu up and down, a work of art as always, Lobster ravioli to start, a rack of lamb to sustain and a chocolate soufflé to finish.....at that moment, the waiter approached his table, Nathan looked up, the blonde girl from the bar had arrived, as planned. Nathan stood, took her by the hand and helped her to her seat. They sat, ‘Nathan’........’Ana’........they exchanged......the waiter brought the same drink she had from the bar, Nathan passed her the menu, he gazed at her, and smiled, she said ‘what’.....’oh nothing’ he replied, he continued to smile, he thought in his head, ‘what a night we have planned, your last night alive’.....the curtain went up....Let the Opera begin......literally.