Jazz with Chazz (a false lent two)

My niece, who for purposes of anonymity we here at Bitsnbobs have decided to name Charlette, recently……

Hang on…..

…….If I tell you she’s my niece it’s not really anonymous is it?

So I might as well give her, her real name…

Here’s a picture of her backstage at Ronnie Scotts Jazz Club in Soho, London.

Whilst she was sitting there I said – “Hey, wouldn’t it be great if your name really was Charlette? If it were I could title this post Jazz with Chazz!”

Things like this amuse me.

Chazz has recently bought a flat with her man - let’s call him, er, Jim, no er… I know.. “Friend”.

Here’s a picture of Friend with someone famous.

Least I think she’s famous.

She’s got a nice dress anyway.

So Chazz and Friend bought a flat in a big house that had been converted into several, moved in, painted it and started to look for some furniture.

This was just a few months ago.

One morning Friend set off down the road to buy some beer - apparently he drinks beer for breakfast, least ways that what I understood though it was a BIT noisy at Ronnie’s when Chazz told me this story.

Whilst Friend was off purveying brew my anonymous niece named Chazz decided to do some cleaning.

She was polishing here, rubbing and dusting there, busting the grime etc when she started to marvel at the glowing reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Look at that beautiful light – she mused.

Polish, polish, dust, dust.

Beautiful colours- she sighed.

Colours? Glow?

She stopped dusting and turned to look at the dust sheets serving as improvised curtains hanging in the sitting room where earlier she had lit a couple of scented candles – Chazz is a sensitive soul.

Ah – fire.

Fire!

FIRE!

Thinking, suddenly, she ran from the room and out the flat, down the steps into the street, looked around and..

“Help!”

“OH, Help!!”

Then she ran back into the flat.

Then she ran out again.

“HELP!” – a bit louder this time.

The flat is in a nice neighbourhood not used to this level of excitement.

“HELP! HELP!”

Then she remembered that she had a fire extinguisher inside the flat so she ran back in, grabbed it, squirted herself in the face and then used the remaining half of the contents to extinguish the curtains.

Unfortunately the extinguisher was one adapted especially for electrical fires so now the curtains were covered in smoking foam and gunk.

But the fire was out.

That’s when the neighbours from upstairs burst in with their extinguishers and proceeded to spray everything, including my niece.

Unfortunately they too had special electrical fire equipment so the smoking gunk was now covered in more smoking gunk.

And that was when another neighbour appeared at the window with a garden hose and started soaking the interior of the flat, the walls, the floor, the ceiling with fresh water.

And then the Fire Brigade stomped in.

They looked around, congratulated the local team for their efforts and stomped out.

That’s when the Ambulance arrived, dragged my niece outside, plonked her on a chair in the middle of the driveway and strapped an oxygen mask to her face.

AND that was when Friend returned from his shopping trip.

He looked at the Fireman.

He looked at Chazz.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

“Tell me you love me!” she screamed back.