"I don't feel much enthusiasm for anything. I suppose it's as good an idea as any." Lori rose from the couch. She reached out to take Hamish's hand. "Come along, let's get into our swimming gear and give it a try."
The southern California sun beat down on the pool area causing a heat shimmer which almost hurt the eyes. They both dove into the pool where they splashed about for a time. Lori took delight in starting a water fight with Hamish. Finally, out of breath and exhausted, they floated on the water on a raft, eyes closed, feeling too lazy to do anything requiring effort. Hamish began to feel much too warm. He roused himself, then glanced over at Lori.
"Ye might be getting ah burn. Come along."
She groaned. "Must I move?"
"Aye, luv. Ye will be bright red, if ye don't get in tae tha shade. We might as well get somethin tae eat now."
He slid off the raft, took hold of one corner of it then paddled it across the pool to the ladder. H.M. pushed Lori out of the pool before starting up the ladder himself.
"Over here!" Lori called to him from the shade of a tree where she had just sprawled out in a deck chair.
"Do you think the waiter will be able to get us a sandwich?" She asked as he sat down on the other recliner.
"Quite likely. What do ye fancy?" H.M. settled himself into the chair beside hers. A small metal table sat between them, for drinks he supposed. H.M. motioned a waiter over. They both ordered B.L.T.'s.
The heat seemed to suck all energy out of them. They made idle conversation about some of the major events taking place in the world while eating. Two tall, cold ice teas washed down the sandwiches. It was a quiet interlude. Both of them were reluctant to broach the subject of the murder. They were careful to direct the conversation into other areas. Their talk finally turned to Glasgow.
"Do ye know on two occasions I have heard ye call Glasgow 'home'?" H.M. polished off his potato chips, licking his fingers to get the last of the salt. "Does it mean ye're really starting tae think that way about tha old girl?"
"I hadn't noticed. I suppose it's possible. I do like the town. The clean up effort has really produced results. I love the colors of all the old buildings. I must admit some of the sidewalks around George's square leave something to be desired, but it's a friendly town. Perhaps, you have corrupted me." Lori took another sip of the ice tea.
"I love Brighton, yet Glasgow has its own charm. Perhaps it's all the Art déco facades, the town was in its glory about that time and it shows. I love the roses, the trees and the feel of the town. I guess I must have fallen under its spell without really realizing it."
H.M. noticed Lori's untouched potato chips. "Are you going tae eat yur crisps?" His hand hovered over the chips on her plate.
"One of these days you are going to have to cut down on the salt. It's not good for you. Oh, go on, eat them."
"When we have settled down an we have ah regular home, I'll cut down on it then. Anyway, tha heat has increased my desire for salt." Scooping up the chips, Hamish munched away.
"Do you think a regular house is possible?" She pushed the plate to one side. "I mean we need a large studio, a place with good light for me, and good acoustics for you. Certainly, something like that is going to cost a few pounds?"
He leaned back on the lounger. Closing both eyes, he was silent for a moment. "Och! Per'aps not. I have been giving this ah lot of thought. How about picking up one of tha old abandoned churches? There're certainly quite ah few of them tae be had in Glasgow these days."
"Think of the renovation costs," Lori sighed, "heating bills and electricity. I'm not sure we could afford the upkeep. We certainly aren't totally financially secure at this time. There's also the noise factor. You will need quiet for a recording studio." Lori turned her head to watch his reaction to her concerns.
"Aye. All those things need tae be considered. Granted, we aren't as rich as tha Queen. But, I'm thinkin our financial position is a bit better than ye realize. We will need tae look over everything quite carefully. If we found ah place off the beaten track an with large enough grounds, somethin might be managed."
He rolled over onto his side to smile at her. "We might come on tae something, ah wee country kirk instead of ah large chapel. 'Tis possible we might be able tae handle something smaller."
"Yes, but do you have any idea where we should look for this country church? One the populace won't tie us to a stake for desecrating?" Lori asked.
"'Tis just a thought, luv. We can look round when we get home. Talk tae an estate agent or two."
One lean finger traced a path across her cheek. "Seeing ye like this, reminds me of our cruise. Ye all brown on tha deck with nothing on tae give ah tanning line. Did ye ken, I gave strict orders tae tha crew they were never tae go out on tha upper deck when you were sunning?"
"Certainly not!" Lori exclaimed. "Hamish, were you jealous?"
"As tae that, now why would ye put it in tha past tense? Try present tense, my luv. Jealous is what I am, lass, not proud of it mind, I just am."
Her smile faded as her eyes searched his face. "You know I might not have married you if I'd known. I don't like being owned."
"I don't care to have anyone putting a brand on me either, pard." He drawled in imitation of some western he had seen. "Quite seriously, luv, I do try tae control myself, but ye see, I love ye desperately. I didna realize how desperately until just recently. Have patience with me, Mrs. Mac, I'll grow up eventually."
Her smile returned. "Oh, no you don't cowboy. No growing up if you don't mind. I am not ready for that big a step. Let's continue as we are, you know the family that plays together."
Her voice lowered to a whisper as her fingers twined themselves into the hair on his chest. "Like that line of yours, the one that goes "in Edinburgh good breeding is everything, in Glasgow good breeding is good fun". I'm into fun. That's right up my alley."
His laughter caused a few heads to turn in their direction. "What would they think if I grabbed ye off tha thing, drug ye by tha hair intae tha bushes behind tha palm an bonked your brains out?"
Lori laughed softly. "This is California, sweetie. If we didn't care for an orgy, some of them would probably stand around and make bets on how long it took."
She gently tugged on his chest hair. "The rest of them would just go back to what ever they were doing."
Hamish found his body reacting to the things she was doing to his chest. "No fun in it at'll. At least in Edinburgh one can still shock ah few people. Want tae go pub crawling with me in Edinburgh when we get home? We can play the 'how far can I go before passing out' game."
"Ugh!" Lori shook her head. "That does not appeal at all! Got any other ideas?"
Lori's fingertips were dangerously close to one of his nipples. The look on her face told Hamish she knew exactly how close. "Humm. We could buy ah powerboat, cruise tha lochs an per'aps ah bit of tha French an Spanish coasts. Would you like tae do that?"
His fingers spider walked up her arm toward the enticing swell of one breast. "We could rent a cottage somewhere near tha moors, fill it with food, lock tha door an throw away tha key until tha food ran out." He leered at her then glanced pointedly in the direction his fingers were headed.
Lori batted his hand away. "That could be one of your better ideas, MacGrough, but I think we will have to put it on hold until several other things are sorted out. There's the album. And I have been thinking about an idea for a show. The faces of love. I am not sure how I want to proceed yet, but I've been thinking about it for a while."
"Love, hate, anger? That sort of thing?" H.M. asked.
Lori nodded in acknowledgment.
"Portraits, or something more abstract?" His hand idly stroked her arm.
Rolling over on her back, Lori thought for a minute. "Not really portraits. I want to try something different...a suggestion of emotion. Not really abstract, suggestive of the emotion I want to portray. I want to create a mood subtly."
"You have tha bug again. I saw tha last painting you did. Now, wheesht. Dinna spu
tter at me." H.M. silenced her before the protest began.
"There was somethin there, a feeling of longin. Tha trees leaned inward toward tha house as if tryin tae caress it. They couldnae quite reach it. Tha house itself was in shadow, set back in tha paintin, almost in focus. Tha mist concealed tha mountain, obscuring tha peaks. Everything was almost there, almost seen, almost felt. Is that what you wanted people to see, tae feel?"
Lori sat up and leaned over him. "Yes! That is exactly what I wanted them to feel. The longing, a yearning for home that is never satisfied because you can never get there. It's in your imagination, your dreams, unreachable."
"I have a home, darlin'." He took her hand. "It can be yours as well."
"I think I'm ready now." She tightened her fingers around his. "But I want you to know, MacGrough, you are my home. Where ever we are, is home. Perhaps I have been too possessive of my creations. If you want to see what I'm doing, it's all right to look. I have been a bit of a bitch about it."
H.M. patted her hand. "Nae worries. I understand. When I first began tae write songs, I wouldna let anyone within earshot. They were my babies. I dinna want anyone criticizing them. They, we, were tae fragile tae stand scrutiny. It took years for me tae be able tae let anyone hear what I had written. It wasnae just tha music. Tha lyrics were ah part of me. My hopes, dreams, angers, disappointments, failures, and heartbreaks, tha lot. Everything was there in tha open. Tha songs were me. It was quite ah while before I realized other people might identify with tha same things which effected my life."
Removing her hand from his, Lori moved to sit on the flagstone next to his recliner. "I should have realized you would understand what my work means to me. How do you put up with me when I'm working? I can be such a shrew."
He ruffled her hair. "I'm nae what you would call ah bleedin saint when I'm workin. I have often wondered how you put up with me."
Turning, Lori put her chin on his chest. "I've given it a great deal of thought. It might be because I'm just plain crazy about you. I love you, husband."
His smile was like the sun above them, dazzling. "I may take an ad out in tha paper, full page per'aps, 'Hamish MacGrough adores wife, Lori MacGrough'. Warren canna give me any nonsense about it now."
She laughed. "That's not necessary, sweetheart. All we really need to do is go outside the hotel and talk to the bunch of reporters hanging around. I think I saw one a while ago trying to take a picture while dangling from the top of the wall. I don't think we were recognized. Shaving was a stroke of genius on your part. They are still used to the beard and leathers."
"I might get my hair cut as well. What would ye think about it?"
"Whatever you like." Lori rubbed her cheek against his bare skin. "You look good to me, no matter what you do. I could get my hair dyed. How would I look as a blonde?"
"Nae, you've tha wrong colorin." Hamish brushed the hair back from her face. "Ah wig could be just tha ticket, however. We need tae go shoppin. Great idea! We're going ta have tae get out of here without ah horde of media shites on our back. Come to think of it, I wonder if Warren has issued any kind of statement. I am 'fraid its time for work luv, so let me up an we will get on with it."
Lori groaned, signifying her resistance to all the energy he was suddenly bursting with, but rose to her feet. "Hold it H.M., I'm still feeling lazy."
He rose from the lounger. "New clothin for ye, or me first?"
With a grin, he looked at her. "Since yer feeling sluggish, we will go tae men's furnishings first. You can watch me parade around in some conservative things for a change. I am sure tha rest of tha clientele will get ah kick out of ye in tha bathing suit." Taking her arm, Hamish guided her into the cool, dim interior of the hotel.
Lori watched him try on a few 'conservative outfits' and decided he hadn't been joking. When not dressing for the crowd, his tastes were definitely understated. Dark slacks, a couple of blazers, short-sleeved shirts and a tie. Loafers for his feet and a straw hat completed his shopping.
In the boutique, Lori purchased a blonde wig with a short hairdo. A couple of plain sundresses, sandals and a new makeup kit completed her selections. They made their way back to their suite. H.M. left her to shower, while he went back down to the barbershop. Lori decided on a long leisurely soak in the tub. She was dozing on the bed when she heard Hamish enter the living room. He called out to her that he was headed to the shower to wash off the hair clippings. She slipped back into the light doze from which he had roused her.
"Lori? Luv, are ye going tae sleep all afternoon?" His voice woke her.
"I might. If you quit pestering me." She opened one eye, then sat up with a start. "Hamish? Is that you?"
"Och, aye. Who else might ye be expecting?"
She pushed herself up against the headboard of the bed. "Stand back a bit where I can get a good look at you."
He took several steps back away from the bed. Arms bent at the elbow, hands out, palms up, he did a slow turn for her benefit. "Do you think I can slip past all tha pests now?"
"Amazing!" A young businessman or something of the kind had taken the musician's place. He was professional looking without a hint of the flamboyant band member anywhere.
Walking back to her, Hamish ran one finger down her cheek. "Enough gawking. I've ah notion tae see ye as ah blonde. I think tha coloring is all wrong, but we'll see. I'm goin tae try an call Warren. Get yourself together while I am on tha phone."
She smiled at herself in the mirror. "Wrong coloring indeed. Wait until you see what makeup can do." Lori whispered to herself.
It took a few minutes for her to pin up her own hair before sliding the wig into place. Turning her head from side to side, she surveyed the effect. With a bit of makeup artistry, this would work out. Lori went to work on her face.
She put on foundation, then a light blusher. The one Lori chose was several shades lighter than the medium shade she usually wore. Pale lip gloss, gray, silver and blue eye shadow completed the basics. A light dusting of powder finished the job. Lori reviewed the results in the mirror. Not too bad.
She put on a bra, panties and pantyhose. Taking the powder blue sundress out of the closet, Lori slipped it on over her head. White, low-heeled sandals finished the outfit. As she surveyed the results in the mirrored closet doors, Lori nodded. She wouldn't have recognized herself.
H.M.'s reflection materialized over her left shoulder. "You certainly dinnae look like tha Brighton beach bunny artist I married. I think we can probably come and go, as we like now. Warren wanted me tae attend tha press conference he has scheduled for later this afternoon. I told him it was nae possible. I dinna intend tae give away our new looks. I want tae be anonymous."
"I spoke with Lurch as well. We are tae go over tae his room in ah few minutes. Glen has given orders tae nae allow any calls through. We'll try him again after our talk with Lurch. Thud was quite drunk. I think we had best let him sleep it off. Ready?"
Lori nodded. She and H.M. left the room. In the corridor, while waiting for the elevator, several people passed them without a second look. They exchanged amused glances in the elevator while waiting to reach the correct floor. Walking hand in hand until they came to Lurch's door, H.M. knocked. He stood to one side of the door so Lurch wouldn't be able to see him through the peephole.
"Who's that?" Lurch's bass voice boomed.
"MacGrough. Keep yur voice down an let us in."
Lurch slowly opened the door, caught a glimpse of them then almost slammed it shut.
"Lurch! It's me, Heavy Metal! I shaved an got ah hair cut ye great ox!"
Lurch stared at him in amazement. "Well, it does sound like you, but why this?"
"Let us in an I will tell ye tha reason."
"Oh, yeah. Sure." Lurch stood aside to let them into the living room.
"Do you want a drink?" Lurch stood watching them with a puzzled look on his face.
"Nae. Come and sit down Lurch. We need tae talk."
Lurch walked around the back of the co
uch, keeping a wary eye on them both as he did so. He sat at the far end of the U shaped sofa as far from the both of them as he could get. "So, what's going on?"
Tugging off the straw hat, he tossed it onto the coffee table. MacGrough ran one hand through his hair. "I need tae be able tae get around without reporters, or fans makin it impossible tae move. Since tha band willna be performing anymore, there is nae need for me tae dress tha part any longer."
H.M. stood, took off the blazer and placed it across the back of the couch. When he sat down again, the Scotsman crossed one leg over the other. "What I really want tae talk tae you about is Slaughter's murder."
"That was a lousy deal, even for Slaughter." Lurch shook his shaggy head. "I talked to the pig, Fredrick is his name, I guess. They don't know who did it, so we are all suspects. Me, I just want to go home. I've got to start putting out feelers for a new gig."
Lurch put one arm over the back of the couch. "I don't like having this bullshit hanging over my head. People are going to be nervous about doing anything with any of us, until there is some conclusion to this mess. I would like to know who set up the trap. I don't blame the dumb shit who cut off Vincent's water, but I wish they would have saved it for his recording session as a solo."
"I cannae say I'm quite so forgivin. I have nae time for common killers. Have ye any idea who might have gone past tha point of no return with Vince?" H.M. stared intently at Lurch. "I know ye an Vince were arguing lately. What was tha problem?"
Lurch looked over at the two of them sitting on his couch. He shook his head and several long strands of the tobacco colored hair fell across his eyes. "This is hard to get used to. I was trying to talk him into using me as a studio musician. I can read music, something Vincent couldn't do. I wanted the one gig, his album. Figured it might be an opening for me. I might get other studio gigs after that. I've a few ideas for a band of my own. I needed a steady gig to see me through."
Hamish ran his right hand up and down on his thigh. "Have ye thought about who might have done in Vincent? Lurch, I need tae find out who did it before tha polis if possible. I do have tha studio date in Glasgow, but there is ah deadline. Tha backers may not want tae stay on if tha album is nae produced on time. I have tae get out of tha country."
Wired For Sound Page 7