“Shut your mouth,” Elizabeth crooned into the microphone, impersonating David Bowie at his most removed and sultry. She’d drawn lightning bolts on her cheeks and forehead with the type of blue pen surgeons use to mark up a body.

A drunk guy with a beard and an ugly orange neck tattoo danced lazily in front of her. There was black cat hair all over his gray sweater.

Wendy and Roy stood side by side, holding their drinks, watching and not talking.

“That’s Shy’s Latin teacher,” Wendy observed finally. “The one she has a crush on. I ought to go have a word, tell him not to encourage her. She never had the slightest interest in table tennis before now.”

“I think I’m off,” Roy said. “Best get home to my laptop. I’ve made all sorts of notes tonight.”

Wendy didn’t seem to have heard him. “The tattoos. The beard. The cat hair. He’s so unclean. I’m going to say something.”

Roy grasped her elbow. “Better not. Have fun with your new friends. Shy is babysitting. She’s fine.”

They continued to watch Elizabeth, and the crowd watching Elizabeth. It was impossible to look away, but nothing about her invited you in. As far as Roy could tell, Elizabeth had been too busy performing to properly greet her husband. What an odd marriage. But of course, all marriages were odd. Even he and Wendy were a bit off lately.

“Anyway, Shy has a crush on the nurse’s boy,” he reminded her. “Remember?”

“That’s not a crush,” Wendy corrected him. “If the person reciprocates, it’s not a crush. That boy is so awkward, he needs Shy just to cross the street.”

Roy didn’t respond. Wendy was being cruel. It was the wine. After a few glasses, the hospitable hostess always turned on her guests.

“You have a crush on the nurse,” she added. “It seems all the men do.”

Peaches did seem to be enjoying the company of the famous singer who’d been in a band once. They were both wearing black jeans. She kept smiling, showing off her dimples, and he kept grinning back at her and tousling his hair with those ridiculous tattooed hands, the twit.

“Yes,” Roy agreed, because what Wendy said was true.

She looked up at him searchingly and then looked away.

“I’ll give you eyes of blue…” Elizabeth crooned deeply into the microphone.

Roy peered over the crowd, looking for Tupper. He was still behind the bar, leaning on his elbows and nursing another Guinness. He looked like he might be coming down with flu.