Unplugged: A Blue Phoenix Book

by Swallow, Lisa

  Liam groans and closes his mouth on mine, fingers disappearing under my shirt. When he touches my skin, he inhales sharply and shifts against me. My nipples harden as I push myself against his chest, heat pooling between my legs as he digs his fingers into my waist and kisses me with a desperate passion I share.

  The front door clicks open and we spring apart like teenagers who are about to be caught by parents. Liam bites his lip and smirks at me. “You’re a fucking awesome kisser.”

  I lick the taste of him from my lips unsure whether he’s teasing, and straighten my clothes. Louise talks drunkenly to Goldie in the hallway.

  Liam moves closer. “I’m going to bed,” he whispers, “but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.” He kisses my nose before heading out of the door. The kettle boiled minutes ago but I no longer want a drink, or to get a grilling from Louise.

  I creep upstairs after Liam and pause outside the door where Ella sleeps. His room is next door. For a minute, I battle against continuing into Liam’s room. The thought of sleeping in someone’s arms, Liam’s arms, rather than with a four year old who kicks me in the night is a fantasy I can’t visit tonight. I’ve had a lot of things knocked out of me in the last couple of weeks, but self-respect isn’t one of them.

  I walk into the room where my daughter sleeps.

  CHAPTER 11

  LIAM

  I do not want to be here. A week away from the craziness of my real world isn’t enough, definitely not when I’m dragged into the worst Blue Phoenix scandal we’ve faced. Now I’m in Dylan’s house, with Dylan, Bryn, and Steve, around his kitchen table, unable to believe what the fuck just happened.

  Following a restless night filled with images of Cerys in various positions, naked, with me, I crawled out of bed having slept in until early afternoon. My phone rang incessantly for an hour before I gave in and answered. Blue Phoenix manager, Steve, calling me when I told him I was to be left alone over Christmas pissed me off.

  Until he told me why he was calling, and the world outside of magical Welsh Christmases in the snow gatecrashed my time with Cerys. Jem’s girlfriend, Liv, the heiress six years younger than him with connections to British nobility is dead.

  Summoned to discuss how we’ll deal with the media fall out, I had no choice but to come here.

  “Where is he?” I ask Steve.

  “Jem finally agreed to talk to the police, so he’s still there,” says Steve.

  Our manager’s hair greys more every week, I swear. Today his lined, pale face looks older; and understandably, by Blue Phoenix standards this is an off-the-scale scandal.

  Dylan sits with arms tightly crossed over his chest, mouth set in a thin line. I heard him talking to Steve in terse tones about getting dragged into the circumstances around her death. Dylan spent time at the police station too, guilt by association; but he was with Sky when Liv died. Apparently, Sky is around somewhere too.

  “Tina will be here soon, she needs to release a press statement ASAP. I need firm statements on where you all were last night.” He glances at Dylan. “I know you’ve been through this with the police, so probably not such an issue for you; but Bryn and Liam, we need to know everything you’ve been up to over the last week or so. The press is on our backs and you can guarantee any dirt they can dig will make a nice sideline to Jem’s fuck up.”

  “Jem said he had nothing to do with this,” says Dylan. “I believe him.”

  “Dylan, if this Sky chick is back in the scene, I suggest you hang around here until things die down. Unless you feel like deflecting some attention by announcing your relationship.”

  Dylan stiffens. “What the fuck, Steve? No way. Things with Sky are shaky; I don’t want her running for the hills again!”

  Steve huffs. “Bryn?”

  Bryn wrinkles his nose. “Nothing juicy going on in my life. Not that anyone knows about anyway.”

  “This isn’t funny, Bryn,” snaps Steve.

  “I’m not being funny. I just know how to keep under the radar.”

  Steve turns to me. “Liam. I kept out of this, but what the hell has happened between you and Barbie? We saw the pictures. You’re here; she’s in the US. Is it over?”

  I knew this question was coming. Three pairs of eyes train on me and I rub my hand over my face. “I ended the engagement and went back to Wales to get my head together. I haven’t spoken to her for over a week.”

  “So it is over?” asks Steve brusquely.

  Wales and Cerys are a world away from this weird shit. All I wanted was a quiet few days away from my job like anyone else at Christmas. Then this happens and I realise this isn’t a job or something I ever take a break from. I’m Liam Oliver, bass player of Blue Phoenix and property of the public. I cope with this better than Dylan and Jem, I don’t face exactly the same scrutiny, but I really haven’t put thought into how my break-up with Honey is going to bring attention I don’t want. A vengeful part of me pictures myself and Cerys in pictures on the internet, pissing off Honey and showing her I can do the same. But that cheapens Cerys, and belittles what’s between us.

  I stun myself. Between us?

  “Yeah, it’s over with Honey.”

  Nobody responds and I don’t want them to. I don’t care about their opinion.

  “He has a new girl in his life,” says Bryn and I snap my head up.

  “What the fuck?” I say.

  “Yeah, how old is she? Three?”

  He’s grinning, being typical Bryn with his weird sense of humour, but his comment makes things worse. Steve slams his hands on the table. “Jesus fucking Christ, Liam! Have you got a secret kid?” Not funny Bryn, the poor guy’s got enough to deal with.

  “No, I haven’t! She’s Cerys’s daughter.”

  “Cerys?” asks Bryn, sitting forward with his elbows on the table. “You never said that’s who it was when I spoke to you the other day. She’s got a kid now? Wow, she’s young for that.”

  “Okay, not your kid. Good. Right.” Steve dismisses me. “Bryn?”

  “Have I got a secret love child? I have six. Hang on, no, seven.”

  “Not helpful! I need to make sure you’re free of shit they can drag up. Where’ve you been staying recently?”

  Bryn’s grin disappears. “I said, under the radar.”

  “With?”

  “Me, myself, and I. Shit, Steve, I’m the drummer, nobody cares.”

  I glance at Dylan who stares at the table as if he’s not really present. Am I selfish, not wanting to support Jem? Maybe, but I’m over his dragging us down. Between him and Dylan, the crazy doesn’t stop and I’m over it.

  “What do you expect us to do, Steve?” asks Dylan. “All stay here for a happy Christmas?”

  “I reckon you boys should go back to the States until this blows over,” Steve replies

  “No way!” I say. “I understand this is bad, but I’m not going back there yet! Besides, Jem needs support, right? We can’t all fuck off and leave him.”

  “He’s right. Bring Jem back here. We should stay here and see what happens over the next few days and go from there,” says Dylan.

  ****

  I kick around Dylan’s house as we wait to hear what’s happening with Jem. Tina came with a debrief; Jem’s being released but there’s still a big question mark over his head regarding his involvement. Now I’ve spoken to Tina, our PR girl, and told her everything she needs to know, I want to leave.

  Me and Bryn spend a few hours on the Xbox losing ourselves in yet another fantasy world but I can’t concentrate. The beers don’t help my accuracy so I give up and wander to the kitchen for a snack.

  Dylan and Sky are in the kitchen, and when I pull out a bowl of nachos and dip, I sit at the huge table and watch them. They’re cooking, a simple, everyday thing but there’s something odd in the synchronicity they have. They’re coordinated; the way they move around each other is like they share an unspoken pattern. Dylan’s hands on her waist as he moves past, Sky touches his hand as she stirs with the
other. Natural and real, they don’t need to communicate to tell each other and the rest of the world how in tune they are.

  The sight opens my eyes further to Honey and me. I don’t doubt she cares about me and I felt a lot for her, but what I’m looking at here is love defined. Although I’m sure things aren’t all rosy after their reconciliation and four months apart, I can’t help it; but this makes me fucking jealous. Dylan never wanted a girl and the love of his life lands in his lap.

  I want someone to share my life with, who I can grow old with, have kids with. Something stable. I love my Blue Phoenix life, but I also have a crazy dream about going home to my wife and kids at the end of a long tour. Plenty of people have long-distance relationships; and after a few years, I can jack it all in and they can be the new centre of my world. I thought I could have this with Honey, but how can I do that with someone who so easily finds her way into the arms of another man?

  I don’t hang around the kitchen long. Things are awkward with Sky after she saw me with Cerys. She’s friendly and chatty but the wariness behind her eyes is matched by mine. I’m fairly sure she hasn’t mentioned anything to Dylan because the only caginess from him is avoiding talking about Honey.

  I’ll stay at Dylan’s for tonight then decide what to do tomorrow.

  ****

  CERYS

  “But where did Uncle Liam go? He said he’d take me to the park!”

  I huff and put Ella’s dinner on the table. Cheese spread sandwiches, cut into triangles, crusts off. Her incessant whinging about Liam is irritating me, mostly because the same whinging is happening in my own head.

  Where did he go and why didn’t he say anything? I shake my head at myself. Why would he? I don’t have much to do with him outside of the weird kisses we shared. Louise has no idea either; he left this afternoon when everyone was out. Liam didn’t leave a note.

  “Okay, here’s your answer!” calls Louise from the lounge room.

  Leaving Ella at the kitchen table, I go to Louise. The TV flashes pictures of Jem and Dylan, police gathered outside a hotel, and a picture of a young, blonde-haired girl. I stalk all things Blue Phoenix online so I know who this is, Jem’s latest girlfriend.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “Jem’s girlfriend died.”

  “Wow,” is the best I can manage. “How?”

  Louise tips her head back over the sofa. “Drugs, of course.”

  The Jem I knew from years ago was a mess. He was always closer to Dylan than Liam, but when I was around eleven years old Jem came over to Liam’s place more. He was skinny and nervy but always polite. I heard whispered conversations about his home life, never anything good. From what I understood, he was left alone to look after himself a lot, as his mum would go away for days at a time. Once Jem hit his mid-teens, the attitude switched to self-defence and he retreated from everyone apart from his three friends.

  Sometimes when Jem was high, he’d talk to me in Liam’s kitchen as he made a snack, but the mix of my awe and discomfort around him saw me scurrying away. Jem was Louise’s crush and after years of walking around after him with puppy-dog eyes, he gave her what she wanted. This was the same night Liam kissed me, although she and Jem didn’t stop at kissing. The reality obviously blew away her rock star dreams because they haven’t spoken since that night.

  “I’ll call him and see where he is. If this is true, I think he’ll be with the rest of the band somewhere,” Louise says.

  CHAPTER 12

  CERYS

  Liam left four days ago and I’ve heard nothing. He doesn’t have my number; how would he? We lived in the same house so exchanging details wasn’t needed. I toy with asking Louise for his number but when I hear her on the phone to him and the call ends without him asking to talk to me, I realise there’s no point. What did I expect anyway? Dates? A relationship? I got to indulge my fantasy a second time; at least I stopped with a kiss again.

  Ella stopped asking about him after a couple of days; she’s used to her dad making promises he doesn’t keep, so she’s filed him away in the ‘don’t expect anything’ box. She submerges herself back in the quiet of TV shows and colouring, with the occasional trip to the park when the weather allows.

  After one trip to the park, cut short by a flurry of snow, we head back to the house. It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow and this year Ella is fully aware of Santa and presents, able to understand her Advent Calendar countdown. The remaining chocolates behind each day on her Calendar all disappeared around day twenty, and to my amusement Ella blamed Liam. When I refused to believe her, she then blamed Goldie.

  The snow falling on my face and mouth rewinds to the day by the Christmas tree in town, when Liam kissed them away. I shake the snow and memory away, annoyed that I’m spending time dreaming about what can’t be.

  A familiar car sits on the driveway, the red paintwork of the flashy Ford sedan collecting snow.

  “Daddy’s car!” shouts Ella and pulls her gloved hand from mine.

  As she charges along the path toward the front door, I pause, unsure what I’m facing, or how I’ll cope. Anxiety and anger vie for top spot in my mind. The fact he never called to tell me he was coming isn’t a good sign.

  Goldie greets me like a returning family member as he always does; and I absent-mindedly pat the jumping dog, fighting the tight-chested feeling accompanying me into the kitchen.

  Ella is sitting on Craig’s knee. He looks up as I enter and smiles. No wariness, no apologetic look, the face of someone who just arrived home after work and didn’t kick his partner and daughter onto the street two weeks ago. Craig’s a good-looking guy, and was always aware how many of the girls at school crushed on him. His mother’s Italian. He’s inherited the dark hair and deep brown eyes, and he spends too much time at the gym perfecting his Mediterranean god image.

  “Hey, Cer,” he says.

  I blink. Hey? Unable to speak in case I start yelling in front of Ella, I unbutton my coat and cross to the fridge.

  “Do you want some juice, Ella?”

  “Daddy’s come to take us home.”

  Gripping the fridge door, I inhale against the mounting anger and pause to compose myself.

  “Really?” I pull out a cup and fill it with juice. “Ella, take your coat off and find Aunty Lou.”

  Lou was the only one home when I left. Where is she and why the hell did she let him in and not call me?

  Ella wraps her arms around Craig’s neck. “I want to stay with Daddy.”

  A hint of smugness crosses Craig’s face and I get closer to losing the plot, heart thumping. “I need to talk to Daddy, Ella.”

  She pouts. “Don’t make him go.”

  “Why don’t you help Mummy by finding your bag? You can put your toys in to take home.” Craig lifts her from his lap and sets her on the floor.

  “You won’t leave?” she asks her dad.

  “Not without you.” As he says the words, he looks directly at me.

  Ignoring his veiled threat, I smile encouragingly at Ella who wrinkles her nose at us. “Okay.”

  As Ella leaves, I sit opposite Craig. He’s dressed in the Cardiff football shirt he practically lives in and his expensive jeans, designer trainers to match. He earns a decent wage as a plumber but most of it goes on himself. Every so often, he’ll buy Ella something expensive to help his guilt over never being home. The last present was a trampoline now squashed in the tiny garden of our house in Cardiff, unused in the winter weather. He has no idea how to be a dad, yet she worships him.

  “Why are you here?” I ask him.

  “To take you home.”

  “Just like that?”

  Guilt flickers into his eyes. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

  “Done what? Told your girlfriend and four-year-old daughter to leave your house and never come back? You were pretty clear about that.”

  “I made a mistake.” He offers me his half-smile, the one that charmed me into his bed almost six years ago. Six years with him.
<
br />   “Damn right you did. Your daughter has cried for you every night! Why should we go back with you?”

  We both know the answer. “Because you don’t have anywhere else to go, Cer. I miss you.”

  I rake my hands through my damp hair, and hold tight, fighting against screaming every insult that comes to mind. The tight feeling of anxiety is in my chest, but the suffocating breathlessness comes from something else. He’s right. I’m trapped.

  “Why did you do it?” I say.

  “I don’t know. Things were shit at work. We were arguing. I wasn’t happy. All you did was nag me when I got home, and Ella did my head in. I couldn’t cope anymore; I wanted my own space.”

  “You have responsibilities, you dickhead!” I say, and then lower my raised voice. “You’re not the teenage boy you pretend to be by going drinking with your mates every night. Just because they don’t have kids yet, doesn’t mean you can pretend you don’t!”

  “I’ve never been unfaithful to you,” he says quietly. “I had loads of chances.”

  “What? Are you telling me I should be grateful you only kicked me out and haven’t been screwing around?”

  “No, I mean I must love you if I said no to other girls. We can work this out.”

  “Are you suggesting I move back in and forget what you did? How do I know this won’t happen again? How do you know I even want to come back?”

  Craig reaches across the table and wraps his fingers around my clenched hand. “Because you always do what’s best for Ella.”

  As I look back into the brown eyes I once loved, the band across my lungs tightens. His secret weapon against me. “You don’t care about Ella.”

  “What?” He pulls his brows together as he drops my hand. “She’s my daughter. I love her. I’ll love her until the day I die because she’s mine!”