All Right Now

by Madelynne Ellis

Ginny was fully dressed and breezing about the room with a spring in her step. Huh? This wasn’t how today was supposed to begin. They were supposed to be having a gloriously long lie in, codename, shagathon, which involved a lot of naked time.

  What the hell time was it even?

  “You need to get moving. Spook’s managed to get you an appointment with a specialist in Stockholm.”

  “He has? What, today?” he grumbled, because of course the first thing he wanted to hear before he’d blinked the film of sleep from his eyes was that he was broken and he needed to see another doc in order to get himself fixed. He flexed his fingers. Hm, not too stiff, but sore around the joints.

  “He got lucky with a cancellation, otherwise it would have been weeks until they could see you, but it does mean shifting your arse fast.” She wrenched the covers off him.

  “That’s uncalled for.”

  “Get up.”

  “You’re a cruel lady.”

  “I’m the best motivational coach there is around here.” She flashed him a glimpse of her boobs. “Now, stop mithering and get dressed.”

  Ash swung his legs around onto the floor. He didn’t see what there was to be so perky and cheerful about. “You know the chances are this doctor’s going to do the same as all the others; hand me a diet sheet and a heap of pills and tell me to invest in some Lego and a 5000 piece jigsaw puzzle. Then sayonara, see you in twelve months when you’re magically fixed.”

  “That’s what you want.”

  “Yeah, not really.” Twelve weeks was too long to get back to normal. He didn’t have time to wait twelve months. “Also, much as I love primary coloured building blocks, Lego therapy isn’t going to fix me, and nor is piecing together some shitty picture of a daffodil.”

  Ginny stopped doing whatever the hell it was that required her to constantly bustle about and faced him with her hands on her hips. “Would you stop assuming you know the outcome before you get there? It could be she has a suggestion tucked up her sleeve that no one else has thought of and that’s the key to sorting you out. Also, wouldn’t you like some idea about how long it’s going to take for you to recover?”

  Yes, and if this lady doctor could give him a definitive date, then maybe it’d be worth crawling out of bed. Not that she would. Doctors didn’t make those sorts of calls.

  “Get up.” Ginny prodded his shoulder, before disappearing into their en suite.

  “I am up,” he hollered after her. Leastways, one particular bit of him was merrily saluting the sun. “If you came back and helped, I’d come a lot quicker.”

  “Pretty sure we’re not talking about the same thing,” she yelled back.

  “Uhrr,” he groaned, and pulled the duvet back over his head.

  “If you don’t move, you’re not going to have time to eat breakfast.”

  Ash glowered at the bathroom door, uncertain how she could even tell that he was still in bed. Breakfast was his favourite meal, and he’d been looking forward to something that wasn’t just a bowl of soggy cereal or bread and things. “Can’t I have it in bed?”

  “No, you can be civilised like the rest of us.”

  When did she become such a spoilsport?

  Ash was contemplating whether to pull on a clean set of clothes, or go with the ones lying on the floor when Ginny’s phone started bleating a trippy 60s tune. “Want me to get that?”

  “No!” Ginny came hurtling out of the bathroom with her toothbrush still in her mouth, and dived on the phone. “It’s okay. I got it.” She snatched it from under his hand. “Hey. Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, the reception’s none too great. If you give me a moment, I can find a better spot.” She dropped her toothbrush on the table, grabbed a fistful of tissues to spit the foam into, then shot from the room with the phone clamped to her ear.

  Okay, so that was only mildly weird.

  Ash found himself some clean undies, then wriggled into the jeans and shirt he’d left on the floor last night. They were a little creased, but nothing that wouldn’t fall out after an hour or so of wear. It wasn’t as if he had to impress anyone today. He splashed water on his face and brushed his teeth badly, using his left hand. When he emerged from performing his ablutions, he could still hear the hum of Ginny’s voice outside the window. She appeared to be making a lot of “Uh-huh, uh-huh” type noises. Unsure if she was fielding a call about a genuine crisis or a conversation about a split nail, he rapped his knuckles on the glass, and pointed to let her know he was headed to breakfast.

  The guys were all assembled on the decking enjoying an al fresco chinwag when Ash mooched over to the table. In all honesty, he didn’t feel much like eating breakfast now that he was here. The prospect of dribbling milk into his own lap kind of sapped his appetite.

  Dani kindly pushed a cuppa under his nose. “Drink up, sourpuss. You look as if you could use the kick to the head.”

  At least she was treating him normally. Ash circled both his paws around the mug and breathed in the glorious aroma. It had been forever since he’d enjoyed a truly great brew. Hospital coffee was just bleurk, and whenever Ginny went out to grab him a drink, she inevitably came back with some frothy syrupy nonsense covered in heart-shaped sprinkles that tasted less like coffee and more like someone had dissolved gingerbread in a cup.

  “Thanks, sweetheart.”

  “Hey, less of that. She’s spoken for,” Xane waggled a piece of toast at him. “Don’t go getting ideas.”

  “Xane,” Dani protested. “I only poured him a coffee.”

  “Yeah,” he said, squeezing her hand. “But I know what his reputation is like. I don’t want him getting ideas.” It looked as if his friend had managed to slap a plaster on his relationship, although there were definitely still storm clouds looming. Dani and Luthor were positioned on either side of him, and were going out of their ways to avoid any sort of eye contact.

  “Learned it all from you,” he muttered, which earned him a glower, and a round of applause from Rock Giant.

  “Ain’t that just the truth of it.”

  “Have we heard from Elspeth?” Ash enquired of the big guy. It was a little strange for her not to be here without having sent word of her doings. Although given the crises of the last few months, maybe not so weird. The best thing for her and Xane at the minute was to be on different continents.

  Rock Giant’s humour was swiftly replaced by a grunt.

  “So, are we to expect her presence, or not?”

  “She’s not obliged to be here,” Spook reminded him, diplomatic as ever. “We’re hanging together, not officially working.”

  Yeah, right! As if they were all going to sit around sunning themselves for months. Music making would be happening by the end of the week at the latest.

  “Problem?” he asked, when Ginny finally arrived. He’d progressed to spearing bits of pancake with a fork, but was still avoiding anything likely to leave him with food down his shirt.

  “No,” she replied.

  “Sounded like one. Who was it?”

  “You haven’t taken all your pills,” she replied, before plucking the blister strip out of the back pocket of his jeans and popping two of the white capsules. “Here.”

  “Great. Thanks.” He folded his fingers over them, pressing them into the palm of his hand.

  “Wash them down with orange juice.”

  Ash dutifully performed as instructed. “They do crap.” In all honesty, he’d rather take the twinges and the bouts of fireworks, over the numbness the medication caused. Being able to feel his fingers made them a lot easier to move.

  A couple of moments later a string of text messages arrived and diverted Ginny’s attention. Ash grabbed the opportunity to idly stroll over to the nearby wildflower bed and spit the painkillers out.

  He did not need that shit.

  A spasm seized his arm seeming to contradict his assertion. Ash gritted his teeth and grimaced through it, only for Xane to clap him on the shoulder. He jumped right out of his skin.

  “Fuck!
”

  “Why not just tell her you’d rather not take them?”

  Ash stared at his friend, his heart still racing. “Because I don’t want another lecture on why I should always obey doctor’s orders.”

  “Maybe you should consider it.”

  Ash shook his head. Xane knew better than to even attempt to persuade him otherwise. Pain killers were a slippery slope. They started out innocent enough, the next thing you knew, you needed that hit in order to function, and then it got harder and harder to go the distance between doses. And then, you weren’t just addicted, you were considering other far worse alternatives. In his line of work, the alternatives were far too readily available.

  “I’m just reiterating that I’d rather not have to shop for a new guitarist. We had trouble enough finding a decent drummer, and fuck knows if Elspeth’s still with us or not.”

  “Spook seemed to think you could manage without me yesterday.”

  That wasn’t exactly what he’d said, but it was close enough.

  Xane clapped his hand around the back of Ash’s neck. “Short term, sure, but like I said last night, we need you. Hopefully this doc you’re going to see can help sort you out.”

  Colour him distinctly dubious about that.

  “Hey, Ash. Let’s go,” Spook waved him towards where the motorboat was docked. “Time to move out.”

  -5-

  “Are you sure this doctor we’re going to see is the right choice?” Ginny asked Spook as they headed towards Stockholm. Most of the lengthy cruise along the motorway after they’d swapped the motorboat for a car in Mariefred had been conducted in silence, or to a background of white noise from the badly tuned radio. So far, Ash had been stoic about the appointment, but his quietness concerned her. It almost certainly meant he was fretting, though whether that was over his health or his inability to play guitar wasn’t so clear, but then one rather played into the other. The fact was, Black Halo were looking shaky, both internally, and to their fans, who’d been disappointed by them pushing back their tour dates, and nor had they been helped by some biased and highly inaccurate news coverage of the events leading up to Ash’s nosedive.

  No, for heaven’s sake, he wasn’t a druggie!

  Frankly, the only way for Black Halo to emerge from this was with a kick-ass next album. And for that, they needed their kick-ass guitarist to be able to play. If he couldn’t, it would likely be game over.

  “Dr. Noren is the best option inside Sweden. If you want someone better, it would involve flying further afield, and I’m not sure how desperate our guy is to travel.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Ash mumbled, not even bothering to turn his head away from the window. “This is bad enough. I’m not doing a tour of medical practitioners. They all say the same crap regardless of where you go.”

  “You have such a healthy respect for the people who saved your butt,” Spook remarked.

  Ash grunted. “Yeah, well they seem to create as many problems as they fix.”

  The professionals had been nothing but excellent during Ash’s recent hospital stay, so she attributed his moaning to some old wound. She was sorry whatever past experience he’d received had left him with such a negative attitude. Though positivity and belief in those working to help you went a long way to aiding recovery after injury, being dour about the situation would only make it harder for him to crawl his way back to genuine fitness again.

  “What’s up, Ginny?” Ash asked a few moments later, staring pointedly at her. “Is his driving terrifying?”

  “Eh?” She did a double take at the driver to make sure it was Spook in the hot seat and he hadn’t magically been replaced with Rock Giant. “No. I’m fine.”

  “Then what’s with the death grip?” He bowed his head towards her phone.

  Okay, yes, admittedly her phone was welded to her palm at the moment, and her fingertips were bleached white from the firmness of her hold, but that wasn’t down to Spook’s driving. Ever since the phone call earlier had confirmed that Operation Ann was officially underway, she’d been anticipating fireworks.

  They wouldn’t come today, she knew that. Things took time. Any drama was likely weeks away, but that did little to ease her nervousness over what was potentially ahead. People could be downright vindictive, and this was the kind of situation that brought out the worst in people. Still, it wasn’t so much herself she feared for, but the potential for causing Ash pain. Rumours were spread all too easily, and then before you knew it, your little private matter was a focus piece on the nightly news, and her boyfriend and his already struggling band were embroiled in yet another drama.

  “Are you expecting another call?”

  Ginny shook her head at him. Expecting and anticipating were two different things.

  “Do you want me to put that in my jacket pocket for you?” He held out his hand for her to pass over the phone.

  “No, it’s fine, I have my bag.” She took the hint, and stowed the phone in the black depths of her patchwork knapsack.

  “Good call, Ginny,” Spook said from the driver’s seat. She could see the reflection of his eyes in the rear view mirror. “He’d only have lost it for you. There’s a reason why he’s only allowed shitty phones, and that no one trusts him with their numbers.”

  “Hey, I haven’t lost a phone in months…over a year, actually.”

  “Gin, how many have you lost?”

  “Ever? None.”

  “Yeah, me neither. What’s your current count, Ash, about seven?”

  “Aw, shut up.”

  Ash turned away huffily from them, and they fell quiet again. Spook tuned in to the local traffic update. “Sounds as if a minor detour is in order, hopefully we won’t end up in a traffic snarl and miss your appointment.”

  Ash gave a voluble sniff. “Since this is likely pointless anyway, I don’t see it’ll make much difference.”

  Ginny poked him. “You don’t know that.”

  “Yeah,” he sighed. “I do.”

  “Well, I’m glad you could understand that so there’s a chance that we will make the appointment.” She’d been nothing but grateful to Spook and his language skills since the night of the incident. Having a native speaker made communicating with the hospital staff and police much easier, even though they all spoke perfectly passable English. “And I’m sure this doctor is going to have some useful suggestions for you. She’s a specialist. I’m certain she knows her stuff.”

  Ash gave another teenager-like grunt, shut his eyes and feigned sleep. She really hoped he wasn’t going to take this attitude into the appointment.

  “Batman Lego,” she suggested a couple of minutes later, her mind having turned to ways to help him with his motor skills without him griping over things being primary coloured.

  “Do you want to qualify that remark?” Spook asked, laughing at her sudden exclamation.

  “Sorry. It was something one of the physiotherapists in Karlstad recommended for exercising his fingers, but Ash is only prepared to consider it if the pieces are as gothic as he is.”

  “I can think of more interesting work outs for my fingers,” Ash sighed without opening his eyes.

  Ginny ignored his innuendo. Much as she enjoyed being the centre of his universe, he really needed to take the idea of doing some finger exercises more seriously. “I’ve been thinking about the jigsaw idea too. I’m sure there are plenty of puzzles with patterns more to your tastes, and you could easily have a custom one made from a photograph. You could create a Black Halo jigsaw.”

  This time he full-on groaned. “Have you been talking to Sally? That’s the sort of crazy idea she comes out with. No one wants to spend their time piecing us together.”

  She saw Spook raise his eyebrows, but he kept whatever he was thinking to himself. Actually, there was probably a market for exactly that. Super fan Dani Fosbrook would definitely have purchased such a thing. Ginny had a couple of other marketing ideas tucked in her head too. She’d been kind of avoiding that Sal
ly woman so far, owing to the incident with her laminate being stolen on a certain night at a certain gig where she might just have gate-crashed a certain dressing room, but maybe they could get past that in the interests of rampant consumerism.

  “What about a picture of Ginny?” Spook suggested.

  Ash actually perked up. His eyes opened, and he looked her over in a decidedly lecherous way. “Naked,” he mouthed. “Now we’re talking.”

  “Who would even print it?”

  “Specialist print shops,” Spook asserted.

  Damn, he wasn’t helping, but he was making Ash cackle, so that was good.

  “But then if you’re genuinely thinking of going the custom route, you might want to consider something more interesting than a straightforward nude.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, having a reason to get Ric to photograph her sounds pretty good.”

  She knew Ric was Xane’s cousin, and was a highly successful and respected photographer. He was also responsible for the legendary photobook of the band that the record company had censored.

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “A vulva puzzle.”

  “A what?” Ash barked, sitting forward in his seat so that his folded arms rested against the headrest of the passenger seat.

  “That is not even a thing,” Ginny protested. “No way.”

  “You two must have heard of that artist, the one who gets women to send pubic hair and incorporates them into paintings of—”

  “—their private bits. Yeah, I’m aware.” Ash said. “Not seeing how that translates to jigsaws.”

  “I happened across someone else who’s using 3D printing to create… You know what, never mind. You’re never going to sit still and do a jigsaw puzzle anyway, and if you got one like that, the guys would be lining up to help, so you’d not get any benefit.”

  “I’m not sure I like the idea of them fingering my girlfriend’s snatch,” Ash muttered.

  Ginny dug an elbow into his ribs. “You’re assuming I’d even agree to you having such a thing created.”

  “You would.” He slid an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tight. “Especially if it could help fix me.”