Don't Mention the Rock Star

by Bree Darcy

  I gave a short laugh. “It was probably Siena.”

  Late last night, Sebastian Sloane had run an exclusive interview with her about the marriage breakdown. About how AJ had carried on with this Australian woman for years and finally she couldn’t take it anymore. I had to chuckle at her description of me as a forty-five-year-old journalist, adding six years to my age. Part two was set to reveal how she had mended her broken heart with a new man.

  “No,” Mum replied. “Andy says she swears she had nothing to do with it. First she knew about it was getting a phone call from some US reporter.”

  “Then it must have been my former boss, Zara.” I explained to Mum how she knew about our relationship. Maybe someone tipped her off about Andy arriving in Perth and she arranged for a photographer to tail us.

  “Andy’s really cut up about the whole thing,” Mum said as she picked up the mountains of crumpled tissues littering the floor. “He cares about you so much. If you ask me, this might be a good thing if it means you get back together.”

  “That’s not happening. Andy made his choice when he cheated on me all those years ago.”

  “Darling, he was a eighteen-year-old boy with raging hormones. You can’t hold that against him for the rest of his life. Whether you like it or not, the two of you are bound by this invisible tether. No matter how far you stretch away from one another, you keep bouncing back together.”

  “But he lives in a completely different universe. He travels the world staying in five-star hotels, he has to wear disguises if he wants to go out; his fans sleep outside his hotel just to catch a glimpse of him; and supermodels slip him their phone numbers. That’s not the sort of world someone ordinary like me fits.”

  “But can’t you see, that’s the beauty of it. Unlike most people in Andy’s life who idolise him, you love him not because he is a rock star but despite of it. And that means everything to him.”

  That started off my tears again, I was so daunted at the prospect of what lay ahead. Curtis had made it clear we were finished. But once he cooled down, surely he’d realise Ryan and Ciara were better off staying with me. Maybe I could convince him to take the house off the market. Or maybe it was better to sell so we could move into something smaller. The money Mum had set aside from Andy could tide me over until I found a new job. There was no way I would ever work for Zara again.

  Mum lifted my chin. “You’re stronger than you think. You’ve been brought up to stand on your own two feet. And you can do it. Whatever happens.”

  * * *

  Mum was out shopping when another visitor arrived.

  “Lenny! What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see how you were. I hope you don’t mind that I looked up your address in the old staff directory.” He held out a bunch of bright gerberas and a box of chocolates.

  “If you have come bearing gifts on the pretext of getting more details for Zara, you can forget it,” I said, standing aside so he could come inside.

  “I’ve come to apologise,” he said. “For all those terrible things I’ve said about that Dangerfield fellow. If only I’d known …”

  “Oh Lenny, I never thought anything of it.”

  “I also thought you’d want to know that Zara has quit.” He explained how when the story broke on Sebastian Sloane, Amanda quickly figured out the mystery woman was me. She went into my personnel file, uncovering the complaint Siena had made as well as the old photo of us.

  The story exposing me was all ready to publish when Zara arrived and pulled the plug. After a massive row, Amanda went straight to the managing editor who ordered her to run the story.

  “So Zara walked out in protest,” Lenny concluded. “I must say it’s made me see her in a whole new light, her showing that sort of loyalty.”

  “Maybe you could have a word to Sir Dudley. I feel terrible she’s lost her job because of me.”

  “Somehow I think Zara has been looking for an excuse to get out. Having that volatile pair work together was never tenable. I’m sure she’ll land on her feet, people like her always do. But what about you – how are things, if you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Well, my husband is adamant our marriage is over and Mum’s telling me that subconsciously I brought all this on myself because deep down I actually want to be with Andy.”

  ‘If there is anything I can do to help … in fact, there’s something I need to tell you-.” Lenny trailed off as a car pulled up outside. “Looks like someone’s here to see you,” he said. “I should go.”

  “That’ll just be Mum, she went out to get some groceries.”

  “Your mother? She’s here?”

  “Yeah, she’s lovely, come meet her.”

  I opened the front door and relieved her of the shopping bags. Mum came to a sudden halt when she caught sight of my visitor. “Leonard Smith! Is that you? Even after all these years I’d recognise you anywhere.”

  I looked on puzzled as Mum and Lenny hugged. I don’t remember them meeting before.

  “So how did you know to find me here?” she asked him.

  “I worked with Kellie,” Lenny explained.

  “Oh. And does she know who -.”

  He shook his head. “I only figured it out myself recently. She’s a credit to you, Carol.”

  “Can someone explain to me what’s going on?” I said, looking from one to the other.

  Mum took a deep breath before revealing that Lenny was my father’s younger brother. Did that mean the girl Lenny had been pining for all these years, the one he saw out with her young daughter, was my mother?

  “Carol, I’m so sorry, I never knew you’d had a baby. If I’d known, I would have found some way to help.” Lenny then explained how he pieced together our connection after seeing an old photo of me and my friends on my noticeboard and thinking how alike I was to Pete’s former girlfriend. But he didn’t think anything of it or the fact that my absent father was in England, until he found out I shared the same rare blood type as him and his brother.

  His . was confirmed when he found out my mother’s name by playing that royal name game. “So I asked Pete point blank, did he have a baby with you? And he said yes but he had never seen the kid. So I called him every name in the book and told him he’d missed out big time.”

  Lenny turned to me. “Kellie, I apologise for my brother. He’s a poor excuse for a man to have abandoned you and your mother. But I hope we can remain friends …?”

  I picked up the box of chocolates and offered it to Mum.

  “Here, do you want one? Uncle Lenny bought them over.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Ding dong. Ding dong. I looked down from the bedroom window to see Delia, brushing down the front of her green silk blouse.

  “I’ll get it,” I yelled to Mum as the bell rang again and again. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I took a second to compose myself before opening the door.

  Mum appeared behind me, rubbing her damp hair with a towel. “Is that Lenny already? … Oh, it’s you.”

  Delia put her hand up. “I am not here to cause trouble. I just want to talk to Kellie.”

  “Lenny’s due soon to take me for a scenic drive,” Mum said to me. “But I can ring and ask him to pick me up later, if you’d like me to hang around.”

  I told her there was no need and ushered Delia into the lounge. It was time to face the music.

  Delia balanced on the edge of the couch, her legs crossed at the ankles and hands clasped neatly in her lap. Her make-up wasn’t as immaculate as usual, and her hair looked air-dried. No doubt this was a calculated move, to illustrate how my actions had humiliated her family to the extent she was too distraught to care about her appearance. I had no intention of playing it nice, offering a cup of tea and biscuits. Instead I sat without a word, waiting for her outburst.

  “I do understand what you are going through.”

  As if. Unless she’d once bonked Mick Jagger and had their fling splashed all over the tabloids, then I didn’t really see
how. And even then Thomas would never have found out, since he only read the bloody broadsheets.

  “Delia, I’m sorry I’ve hurt Curtis and the effect it’s had on everyone. But I don’t-.”

  “I must admit this has all been a big shock. Not to mention the public humiliation suffered by my son.”

  Here we go. Lecture time.

  “It’s not something I’m proud of but it’s happened and we have to work out what to do next,” I said. “Are the kids okay? I’m sorry if they’re imposing on you but Curtis insisted. I would love to have them back home with me.”

  “Ryan and Ciara are fine. I love having them to stay and to be honest I prefer to shield them from this nastiness.” Delia paused. “Curtis is coming to see you this afternoon. What I’ve come to ask you, beg of you in fact, is if he decides to forgive you, don’t let him. Don’t get back together.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “You’ve never thought I was good enough for your son. I guess in a way you’ll be glad this gets rid of me once and for all.”

  “On the contrary, my dear, you misunderstand me. The reason I don’t want you to get back together is because neither of you is right for the other. I am saying this as much for your sake as for my son’s. Getting marriage right is not something the Carmichael women have done particularly well. Sometimes I wonder if Ewan married Felicity more out of spite for his brother. And I am married to a man who prefers to sit in his study all day reading the newspapers. But I am too old to change and Felicity is too flighty. You on the other hand … Now do you have a cup of tea to offer me? Chamomile if you have it.”

  When I returned with a tray, Delia was standing, with a framed family photograph in her hands. “I also wanted to let you know that Ryan will always be my grandson,” she said, placing it back carefully on the shelf.

  “Thank you. That means a lot. But I promise you, hand on heart, Ryan is definitely a Carmichael.”

  Delia beamed and then returned to her no-nonsense, take-charge behaviour.

  “Leave my son to me,” she said. “This talk about him taking the children to England with him is nonsense. They need to be with their mother. And I hope that whatever happens you won’t keep them away from me.” She suddenly looked less like a fierce fire-breathing mother-in-law, more like a scared, doting grandmother.

  For the first time in my life, I gave Delia a genuine smile.

  * * *

  As Delia had forewarned, Curtis did turn up that afternoon, with Ryan in tow.

  “Ryan insisted on coming to collect some things. I promised Ciara she could see you tomorrow,” Curtis said.

  I hugged my son tightly, burying my face into his hair.

  “You alright, Mum?” he asked.

  “I am now. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Right then Ryan, nick off to your room. I need to have a word with your mother. She needs to make some decisions about our future and she doesn’t have long because a realtor is coming by in a few minutes to exchange contracts on the house.”

  “You’ve sold the house?”

  “I have. Under the circumstances, I hardly think you can complain. The buyer has offered us a stack of extra cash for a quick settlement plus they want all the furniture too.” He named the sales figure, well above market value. “We need to be out in three weeks.”

  Three weeks! How could I start building a new life for me and the kids in that short space of time.

  Curtis continued. “It actually works out perfectly because the woman I’m taking over from has left already, some pregnancy complications, so APB needs me to start as soon as possible. Luckily, due to my current personal troubles, thank you darling, Rodgerson’s agreed to let me go early. I’ve already informed the kids’ schools and rebooked our flights.”

  “But you can’t make all these decisions off your own back, where does this leave me?”

  “It leaves you with a few big decisions to make. I am willing to overlook your indiscretions, provided you-.” He was interrupted by the arrival of the real estate agent – a clean-cut young man carrying a pile of folders.

  As Curtis signed the papers to sell our house – the property was registered in his name only – I stared out into our backyard, remembering all the good times we’d had here.

  The agent then disappeared to his car with the signed contract, saying he needed to confirm the sale with his client.

  “You were saying you’re willing to overlook what has happened,” I prodded. “What I don’t understand is why you would want to stay with me?”

  “Because I don’t do mistakes, pure and simple. If our marriage ends, then it’s admitting I made a mistake marrying you. That it’s all those years down the drain for nothing.”

  As I studied the man I’d lived with for years, I realised he could have given me so many reasons. He could have said he loved me too much to let me go, he could have said it was worth giving us another shot, he could have said he didn’t want to break up our family. Anything but that he only wanted to stay together because he was too pig-headed to admit he’d made a mistake.

  “I have my conditions though – lots of them – and the first one is neither you or Ryan are to have any contact with Dangerfield ever again.”

  “No way,” shouted Ryan from the stairs, black plastic bag in hand. “AJ’s my friend and he teaches me guitar. He’s invited me to go into the recording studio with him in Manchester. I don’t -”.

  “This is not negotiable, Ryan. I don’t want you to have anything to do with him and your mother obviously can’t be trusted to keep her legs together around him.”

  “Don’t talk to her like that. At least AJ isn’t a jerk like you. No wonder Mum prefers him.”

  Curtis turned to me. “It’s nice to see you’ve turned your son against me.”

  “I’ve done nothing of the sort. You’ve turned him against you all by yourself.”

  “You know, I actually hope that paternity test comes back negative. Otherwise I can’t for the life of me work out what I did wrong to produce a son like this.”

  Ryan’s step faltered momentarily before he turned and raced up the stairs.

  I swung around and slapped Curtis across the cheek.

  And in that moment, as clear as the look of shock on his face, I realised this was not about me choosing another man over him. It was me choosing my son. No matter what it cost me. Curtis’ earlier threat came back to me: ‘You may have chosen him over me but are you that heartless you’ll choose him over your kids as well?’ Right there and then I decided I would never choose a man over my kids again.

  We were standing in frosty silence when the realtor returned alongside a tall, skinny man with a goatee. “This is the lawyer representing the buyer,” he introduced.

  “Wade Wrightson,” the man said shaking both our hands. “I have been instructed to deliver some documents to Mrs Carmichael.”

  He handed over a folded piece of paper.

  “This is all yours, too, I believe.” The lawyer laid a copy of the sale contract on the coffee table. “Have a nice day. And please give my regards to Ryan.”

  And it was then, as the pair closed the front door behind them, that it clicked. He was the same lawyer who had dealt with the guitar attack incident.

  “What was all that about?” asked Curtis, indicating I should hand the paper to him.

  I ignored him and opened the note.

  Even if you wont be with me, you shouldnt be with him. The house is yours. You and the kids dont have to move anywhere if you dont want to. Love Ax

  * * *

  Two days later, after telling Curtis that me and the kids were staying put and we didn’t expect a dime from him, I arranged to chat with Andy via Skype. He had discovered that the photographer who snapped us on Rottnest had been sitting next to him on the plane into Perth, and spotted his name on the boarding pass. Unable to believe his luck, he followed Andy over the next few days and then promptly sold his pictures to Sebastian Sloane for a tidy sum. If Andy had been sitt
ing up in first class, it might never have happened.

  “I’ve got something to show you,” I told Andy coyly now. “You’re alone, aren’t you?”

  “Oooh, this sounds promising. I’ve been hearing all about this online sex chat business. Let me get more comfortable.”

  “Very funny. If you’re going to be like that, I won’t show you.”

  “Show me, show me.” He clapped his hands together like an excited little kid.

  Standing right in front of the camera, I pushed down the waistband of my cargo pants to expose my right hip.

  “You got a tattoo! But who’s that heart for – that could be for anyone. It’s not like you’ve got anyone’s name there.”

  I then showed him my other hip, with its DANGER ink. “That pretty much shows who the heart’s for.”

  “That is so freaking cool – we have matching tatts. But how are you gonna explain that to your husband?”

  “Not much chance of him ever seeing them. Curtis is heading off to England soon. Me and the kids are staying here, in the house the love of my life bought for us.”

  Andy disappeared from the screen. “Keep talking, I can hear you,” he yelled.

  “What are you doing?”

  He dashed across the room, carrying a bundle of clothes. “I’m packing – I’m catching the first plane over.”

  Then his face popped back into view. “But there’s no reason I can’t fly first class, is there?

  EPILOGUE

  Once you’ve been hopelessly in love, it’s pointless settling for anything less. It only took me a couple of decades to figure that out.

  I was fresh out of the shower when I heard the front door crash open. Moments later, Andy popped into our bedroom. “I know I should wait for tomorrow, when it’s your real birthday, but I want to give you your present before everyone arrives,” he said.

  “I have a little something for you too. It can’t really wait until your birthday next week either.” I rummaged in my underwear drawer and pulled out a rectangular box. “Open it,” I urged.