I Used to Say My Mother Was Shirley Bassey

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I Used to Say My Mother Was Shirley Bassey Page 22

by Stephen K Amos


  A crescendo hit and, two encores later, I was exhausted. I was humbled by the reaction of the audience and my parents were there to see it. Yes! No council application forms tonight. I was so moved that I had to tell the audience that my mum and dad were there in the front row and it was the first time they’d seen me perform in ten years. The crowd went wild – applauding, whistling. My mum got up, turned around, and took a fucking bow – waving like the Queen. To date, it was the best show of my life.

  Later, in the after-show bar, Mum and Dad were looking at the dancers with quizzical expressions. I went up to my dad and gave him a big hug and he returned it.

  ‘Dad. You made it!’

  ‘Son, we wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

  ‘What did you think?

  ‘It was amazing! The dancers! The music! And all those people.’

  ‘I’m glad you liked it.’

  ‘We always knew you’d do well.’

  ‘Really? So you approve now?’

  ‘Son, you don’t need our approval. The lizard that jumped from the high iroko tree and landed safely said he would praise himself if no one else did. You have already proven everything you need to prove. And remember the iroko tree is pretty high, but I like the Hammersmith Apollo better.’

  He sipped his Guinness and then said with a smile, ‘Because the fruits of it are sweeter. Another round for my son!’

 

 

 


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