Bruce is clearly at home here. Well, more than I am. You wouldn’t catch me singing. Our eyes meet, but he carries on crooning in Cantonese. I’m tempted to try and join in but I don’t want him to think I’m making fun of him. He must be still drunk. Eventually he finishes. I applaud as sincerely as possible. He just stares back. Now, I clear my throat and launch out.
‘Once I was afraid, I was petrified, kept thinking I could never live without you by my side, but I spent so many nights wondering how you did me wrong that I grew strong, learnt how to get along.’
‘Sa ya back!’ Bruce joins in. Thrown for a second, I carry on.
‘…From outer space! La la la la la la la la.’
It’s a mess but we’re both still singing.
I’ve no idea what the next bit is, but I try and keep the tune up and get to the chorus.
‘La la la … I’ve got all my life to live, I’ve got all my love to give and I WILL SURVIVE!’
‘Aw Wi Suvi!’ shouts Bruce and then we both shout it again together. A hint of a smile crosses his face. I wonder where he learnt that. Some Karaoke bar before he got sacked for drinking the bar stocks? Mustn’t lose this momentum. I know…
‘I should be so lucky! Lucky lucky lucky!’
‘Dancing Queen, only seventeen, da de da…’
No, something he might know. Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting? Maybe not.’
I’m running out of confidence and he’s beginning to look at me as if this impromptu sing-along is some sort of psychological torture. Back to awkward silence.
A couple of minutes’ later he’s asleep again. Did that just happen?