Chapter Twenty-Two
Harry walked into the lounge bar and saw Nefertiti miserably trying to give make-up advice to Karin. Harry looked at Nefertiti swaying and Karin in an orange wig and lipstick red enough to stop traffic and wondered about miracles.
Nefertiti looked at Harry. ‘I can’t dance I‘m done for.’
Harry ordered a diet coke. ‘What do you mean, done for?’
‘Look at me, I used to have a reputation for being gorgeous and yet unavailable, now everyone has seen me Flower of Scotland; in Technicolor.’
‘So what am I supposed to do, put on one of your costumes and dance myself?’
‘No, but Sheryl could. And she’s not looking too bad tonight.’
‘She can dance?’ spluttered Harry. Maybe that would work, he thought, after all she had a nice smile. Harry, a man of action, downed his diet coke
