'Yeah!' We shout back.
'Are you ready to get down with me and my band?'
'Yeah!'
'Are you feeling the love?'
'Yeah!'
'If you feel it like I am, join in'.............some giant lyrics appear on the huge screen behind her and we all sing together,
'This is real, real, real, real love'
💌 💌 💌
This was a girls outing only, featuring Mid-life crisis and Dirtbag.
It had been booked since January and even though the music is 'not her cup of tea,' Dirtbag agreed to come along. The drive to Scarborough took longer than expected due to it being really busy around the York turn off. Were the masses going to pick fruit in the strawberry fields, pray in the Minster or walk around the city walls? All the motorways and roads in England seem so congested these days, which makes getting anywhere quickly quite frustrating. Oh, for a huge open desert highway and cheap fuel. Never mind, we ain't got far to go.
When we do eventually arrive, I have to pay £6.00 to park the car. It ain't right.
All car parking was free in Kefalonia.
After our early evening meal together, fish and chips of course, we stand in line with the Collector Tickets dangling around our necks. I purchased these by mistake but I do like them.
Suprisingly, I had bought tickets for the standing area so we could sing and dance, remembering that I almost seized up after sitting down dancing at The Cure last November. The Open Air Theatre (Europe's largest one apparently), is an unusual venue in that the standing area consists of decking constructed over the lake.
'Mum, is it safe?' asks Dirtbag, before the support acts begin. I do a little impromptu dance/jump routine in our spot right here, about six rows from the front of centre stage, much to her embarrassment.
'It's fine love, don't worry. Anyway, you're a good swimmer aren't you?'
Meanwhile, I'm scanning the crowds for any suspicious nutcases or terrorists in the seemingly 'normal,' slowly growing audience. Thankfully, it looked like we were all clean bandits.
After being pleasantly warmed up by trio, The Tailormade, then energised by upbeat Mullally, the main event began with the band taking to the stage first. After a couple of minutes, the shiny cloaked goddess appeared through the smoke, sporting shades, a super sleek ponytail and huge silver hoop earrings with LOVE written in the right one and ME in the left.
'You do realise that you are stood on a lake?' Jess laughs at us.
Her band were fantastic with tons of energy to compliment her amazing voice and stage presence. They included three male brass players performing in shiny, silver/purple tracksuits, reminding me of Balthazar Bratt from Despicable Me 3. The backing singers (two female, one male), shone brilliantly in their black outfits and Jess gave them all a chance to shine even further.
'Do you want to hear my backing singers?'
'Yeah!'
They each sang a short solo which we loudly cheered and applauded.
In the news, the day before, I had seen some photos of Jess Glynne, looking fabulous in her bikini. During the gig she commented briefly on how very sad she was about the invasion of her privacy while on holiday with her family. Don't be so hard on yourself Jess, I wanted to shout, but didn't. Then she sang, Take Me Home asking everyone to switch their phone lights on, which looked lovely in the night sky.
Note to self: Delete all holiday pics with me wearing my bikini off the computer files. Unless, of course, they are taken from long range and are slightly out of focus.
It was lovely to spend the evening with my beautifully blossoming, daughter. She sang along really loudly to the songs she knew and loved punching the giant glitter filled orbs as they whizzed over our heads during Hold My Hand. I trust that she will always know that when I am with her there's no place I'd rather be.
'Is everyone alright, do you feel safe?' Jess kindly checks with us.
'Yeah!'
'Good.' She seems really genuine and concerned but in a calm, unassuming way. All her energy goes into her precise performance and I identify with the gorgeous ginger perfectionist. No rights no wrongs.
When the brilliant gig was over and we had to leave, we found ourselves trapped in a travelling tide of over 7000 people. This was stressful for me and I didn't like it at all. The flow fed from one small exit off the standing platform above the lake, into the trickling tributaries coursing downhill from the raised seated areas. I thought of Hillsborough and how terribly, dreadfully awful that must have been. Dirtbag was ahead but I wanted to wait until there was more space to move myself. We had a minor altercation and I told her you can find me by the car if we get separated; which thankfully, we didn't.
Then I challenged her as we walked the short distance uphill to the nearby car park.
'What would you have done if there was an emergency? Where would you have gone if a bomb went off? There was nowhere to go! Perhaps you could have jumped over the fence into the lake?'
How terrible that we have to have such discourse with ourselves and our kids in times like these. Why me? I can clearly hear my own mother's voice in my teenage head, when I was about to embark on my fortnightly trip to the village library, not even half a mile down the lane.
'Suzanne, mind the road when you are crossing it. Be careful love.'
Despite being beside the seaside we didn't have an ice-cream and I wouldn't have chosen the saddest vanilla anyway, rather Save Our Swirled or Karamel Sutra by Ben & Jerry's. What I did devour was a hot chocolate and chicken wrap to set me up for the drive home. Just when tiredness was beginning to distress me, the dark black, night sky, gave me something to guide us safely home; the first shooting star I have seen since leaving Qatar.
Love Me xx
All words in italics are song titles from Jess Glynne's debut album, I Cry When I laugh, (2015).
