by Nicky Wells
“But you sing at home, all the time.”
“I know.” I had to stop singing in the shower, obviously. “But that’s hardly the same. I…I don’t want to let you down, but I’m really not sure it would be a good idea.”
“You have done it before.” Dan’s voice sounded a little like Josh’s when I wouldn’t let him have a treat.
“That was a long time ago, and you ambushed me. Besides,” I changed tack again. “How do you normally perform this song? You haven’t played it all tour.”
Dan sighed. “Exactly. When we do perform it, I have to get a female artist to come join me, and…it’s never the same. This is your song, after all. It doesn’t work with anyone else.”
I came out in a rash of goosebumps. I recalled every line of that song so very clearly, even though I hadn’t given it any thought for years and years.
“I will get you back?” I quoted one of his lines, turning the statement into a question.
“But our future’s bright,” Dan responded, citing the very last line of the song, which happened to be ‘my’ line. Something shifted inside me and broke through the surface. We were still talking in riddles, but I had no doubt what he was suggesting.
Dan grabbed my hand. “It’s the perfect song, isn’t it? But don’t worry, I won’t do anything stupid like fall on my knees and propose to you in front of thousands of people.”
“Oh good,” I uttered weakly, not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.
Dan massaged the back of my hand with his thumbs. “Look, I’ll get Rich to give you plenty of reverb to make your voice nice and clear.”
I laughed. “I know what he has to do, and I can jolly well ask him myself.”
“Touché,” Dan conceded. “I keep forgetting that you’re becoming an ace sound engineer. So, will you do it?”
“You still haven’t told me why. ‘No reason’ simply isn’t good enough for me to go out and make a spectacle of myself in front of thousands of people.” My heart was beating fast in my chest. Some weird, idiotic part of me actually wanted to do it. Besides, I knew he would talk me into it. I just needed a reason.
Dan let go of my hand and laced his fingers together. He exhaled sharply and looked me square in the eye.
“Because it would mean the world to me. Because I’d love to close this tour with you. Because I want to get to hold you on stage and plant a kiss on your cheek.” He shrugged. “Just because it would be wonderful, that’s all.”
I shrugged, too. What the heck. “Okay,” I whispered.
“Okay?” Dan asked.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I said, louder than necessary.
Dan punched the air with glee and jumped to his feet. “You are the best. This will be perfect. And look, I can get you a voice coach to practice if that’ll make you feel better.”
And so it was that I spent the best part of that day ensconced in a studio with a voice coach who gave me a crash course in singing my lines, while Dan took the children to a radio interview, a photo shoot, and the sound check. When we met up just before the final rehearsal, Josh brandished several action hero figures while Emily had a gaggle of new Barbie dolls. I shot Dan a look and he chuckled.
“Unabashed bribery to keep them occupied for a half hour here or there,” he confessed. “But it worked.”
The rehearsal went well, much better than expected. The work with the voice coach had paid off—as long as I kept my nerve—and Richard was doing marvelous things at his desk to give me confidence. The other band members seemed excited about adding “Love Me Better” to the last encore, and Jack thought it was a stroke of genius.
The kids begged to stay up to see their mummy on stage and I promised to either keep them up or wake them just before it was my turn. All in all, this wasn’t exactly the relaxing last show I had anticipated. I was full of nervous energy and little butterflies, yet I enjoyed the sensation.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
The crowd was wild. It was a mild, clear evening, and stars twinkled in the velvet blue sky above the stadium. My four rock stars were doing a fantastic job of shining on the stage, and the first set of encores was over and done with. The band rushed off the stage for a two-minute break before the final set of songs for the night, for the tour, the last one of which would be ‘my’ song.
“You ready?” Dan’s body was drenched in sweat, and he hastily threw on a fresh shirt. I kissed his wet nose and dried his face with a towel.
“As ready as I ever will be.”
“Are the kids up?”
“The kids are up and outside in the family area with Pete.” Pete, the trusty roadie, had assumed quasi-babysitting duty that evening, and it appeared he didn’t mind in the slightest. Dan had told me earlier that Pete had three kids of his own, which explained a lot.
“Good. We’ll do it exactly as we rehearsed. Joe will count us in, and I’ll start—”
“I know, I know,” I interrupted, then backtracked. “Sorry. It’s only that, if you explain it to me one more time, I might lose my mind, that’s all.”
“Ah.” Dan grimaced. “It’s like that. I get it.” He hugged me briefly, then gulped down some water and lined up the band to go back out. This was it.
There were two songs to go before “Love Me Better”, and I barely took them in while I waited in the wings for my cue. Excepting, perhaps, the one previous occasion where I had let myself be talked into an appearance on stage, this would have to class among the most surreal moments of my life. Time seemed to be simultaneously speeding up and slowing to a crawl. My ears felt as though they were full of water, and the echo of my own breathing inside them drowned out nearly all other sound.
The dark stadium was drained of all color, yet I saw bright white and pink sparks everywhere. I felt hot, but my hands were clammy, and my feet were cold. My lips were dry, and I resisted the urge to lick them. Right at that moment, I wasn’t sure I could speak, let alone sing. And yet, there it was, my cue. The song had started and been interrupted, the stage was dark except for one spotlight, searching for me, and the crowd was chanting.
I fought the urge to cry as I took the first tentative step onto the stage. The last time I had done this, Steve had been watching, cheering, jollying me along. This time, I was on my own. Well, not quite. I was fairly sure the kids would be going mad with excitement in their seats right now. And of course, there was Dan, right in the center of the stage, and now also illuminated by a spotlight. He held out his hand, and I took another step.
The stage didn’t look nearly as high when you were in the audience, but from up there, I seemed to be towering above the crowd. The auditorium was in darkness, and with the footlights glaring up at me, it was impossible to discern faces. The effect was not dissimilar to being alone in the stadium. I raised my eyes, letting my gaze follow the oval curve of the stands then out onto the night sky.
Swallowing hard, I kept walking with my eyes still trained on the sky. Dan followed my gaze, and when I finally reached him, he put his arm around me for a second and held me close.
I whispered very softly in my head. “I’ll always love you, Steve. But I’ve got to move on. I—”
Before I could finish my mental goodbye, the stage lights came back on, and the crowd cheered. Dan held my hand aloft and introduced me, inadvertently yanking me out of my somber moment.
“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for my good friend, Sophie Jones, who is here tonight for a very special, one-off appearance to close this tour with the biggest Tuscq hit ever…”
Joe tap-tapped away for the intro, the guitars came in, Dan sang, and my moment arrived. The last few seconds before I had to sing stretched to an eternity as every action, every moment slowed to a near-standstill. Blood roared in my ears and dulled the sound of the musicians around me. Once again, I experienced that familiar, strange sensation of hearing without hearing, of not knowing whether my voice would emerge when I opened my mouth, and what it would sound like if it did.
Dan s
queezed my hand to heighten my cue. He looked at me and smiled, tilting his head in a small gesture of encouragement. I opened my mouth.
“You and me…were never meant to be…”
There. My voice. It emerged, loud and clear and in tune. I heard a cheer rising from the audience, but it seemed to come from a long way away as the dull sensation in my ears hadn’t yet cleared. I ignored it and focused on my lines, my notes, and the words rolled off my tongue.
The first verse over, Dan and I joined our voices in the chorus and my heart soared. Inexplicably, tears pricked at the back of my eyes, but they were tears of purest joy. I was doing it, I was really doing it. Now that I had survived the initial moment, I would be all right. I wouldn’t forget my words. I would stay in tune. I would totally carry this off!
Adrenaline whooshed through my body to cause a great wave of elation, and I could have happily broken into dance if the song had permitted it. As it was, I channeled all that energy into the tune, giving it my all, singing as though my life depended on it.
Dan and I held on to each other for the entire time. The crowd seemed to love it, and their cheers rose to a soaring crescendo when the final notes of the song had faded into the stadium. Dan hugged me tight for the world to see and gave me a big, fat, very official kiss right there on stage. When he broke off to look at me, pride and joy and something else shone from his eyes, and the look on his face gave me goosebumps.
Unbelievably, the crowd managed to cheer even louder, and Mick, Joe and Darren came to join Dan and me in the center of the stage, clapping their hands and patting our backs. It was a truly incredible moment, and I wished it would never end.
Right on cue, the fireworks went off over the stadium and the technicians dimmed the stage lights. The crowd ooh’d and aah’d over the spectacular display and once more broke into a rousing applause when it came to an end. The stadium lights came back on, the band took their bows, shouting thank-you’s to their fans and waving goodbye. The elation, the joy, the pure delight, the excitement and the gratitude of the fans was palpable. Moreover, I could feel the pride, the exhilaration and the buzz among the musicians. It felt like a living thing, a physical presence with us on the stage that enveloped them—and me—in the richest reward of all, the knowledge of the love and admiration of thousands of happy fans. It was a truly potent drug, and I absorbed it greedily as I tried to burn every last sight, every feeling into my memory.
Naturally, there was the party of all parties at the hotel to celebrate the end of a highly successful tour. Celebrities and media folk, record company executives, TV and radio presenters, and other assorted industry dignitaries came by the dozens, and the hotel’s ballroom was positively teeming. The kids were sleeping in our suite, and Dan and I had quickly changed into party gear. Fresh jeans and the trademark silky-blue shirt for Dan—top buttons duly undone—and a black sequined cocktail dress from the hotel’s designer boutique for me.
“I hate these official parties,” Dan mumbled under his breath while we exited the elevators. “Everybody who’s anybody is here, and it’s impossible to relax. But I suppose it’s got to be done.”
He fixed a smile on his face, and we started circulating. Dan worked the crowd with a vengeance, shaking hands, slapping backs, air-kissing models, posing for photographs, schmoozing and networking and oozing charm every which way. I noticed Darren, Mick, and Joe doing the same. In a corner of my mind, I was simultaneously amused the band still had to endure this publicity circus and impressed with their unfailing professionalism and goodwill in going along with the charade. It lasted for an hour and a half before things subtly changed.
One by one, the hangers-on left, no doubt off to the next glitzy event; the media teams were encouraged to depart; the record company executives said their goodbyes; and little by little, the atmosphere grew more relaxed, the lighting and music changed, and the real food appeared.
“Who can live off canapés anyway?” I overheard Joe as he ushered in a phalanx of waiters bearing platters of steak and chips, burgers, fried chicken, and Chicago-style, deep-dish extra-loaded pizzas. A collective whoop of appreciation rose, and the remaining party guests, me included, gratefully turned their attention to these more substantial culinary delights. People loaded their plates with food and carefully balanced them on coffee tables or knees. For a while, the sound of animated chatter was replaced by the contented clink of cutlery.
“Who on earth planned this?” I inquired of Dan when he joined me at a table with a plate laden with steak and chips.
“Joe and Jack, I suspect.” He grinned. “We’ve got to say farewell to the good ole U.S. of A. in style, haven’t we? And we’re all hungry and exhausted. We deserve a bit of a feast, tuck in!” He cast an eye over my more modest plate and laughed. “You sure you got enough there?”
“Quite positive,” I assured him. “Besides, there’s only so much a lady can consume whilst squeezed into a tight-fitting cocktail dress.”
Dan raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”
I smoothed a hand along my unusually slim-looking tummy. “It’s got stays sown inside,” I explained. Dan joined his hand to mine, feeling the fabric carefully.
“My God, so it does. Well, I look forward to liberating you from those in due course.”
I giggled. It was a heady sensation, this feeling of freedom to date my rock star, to retire to our room together without questions being asked, without a sense of guilt or the fear of discovery.
“I love it when you have that faraway dreamy smile on your face,” Dan broke into my thoughts. “Penny for them?”
I shook my head. “They’re not worth a penny, trust me.” I leaned against him briefly to reassure him that all was well, then sat up again straight. “What’s next?”
Dan looked at me blankly. “How do you mean?”
I waved my hands about. “Well, after all this is over and the tour’s finished. So are we going home tomorrow, or what?” I scrunched up my forehead, trying to recall the exact travel date on our tickets. “I didn’t think we were leaving the States for another few days. So what’s next?”
Dan nudged me. “You and your ever-perceptive mind. It’s impossible to sneak a surprise on you.”
“A surprise?”
“Uh-huh.” He clammed up and focused on his food.
“Care to elaborate?”
Dan shrugged and continued eating, chewing and rolling his eyes at me in a can’t-speak-with-my-mouth-full way.
“Dan Hunter, you are the most terrible tease,” I chided him with a laugh and took his plate out of his hands. “Tell me, now.”
He swallowed and pretended to look contrite. “Okay. Right. Um.”
He grabbed hold of a napkin and twiddled it around in his hands. For all intents and purposes, he looked nervous.
“What is it?” I persisted, partially out of desire to know and partially to put him out of his misery.
“Well, um, you see…I took the liberty of adding a little family holiday onto the tour, just for the kids, you, and me.”
“A family holiday?” Unsure what to make of his announcement, I resorted to the old parroting technique.
“Well, yeah. We’re already this side of the ocean, I thought we might as well take in…you know, a theme park.”
“A theme park.” If in doubt, continue with the parroting.
“Yes, a theme park, down Florida way.”
I suppressed a belly laugh. “You’ve booked us into a theme park?”
Dan nodded.
“We’ve got those at home, you know.” Spoilsport, my inner child overrode my killjoy observation, but Dan wasn’t perturbed. He pointed a finger at me and pretended to cock a gun.
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. The ones we have are nothing like these. I’ve done my research. And the weather is better.” He pulled his imaginary trigger, blew the smoke off his finger gun, and put it away. “Got ya.”
Now I let go of the belly laugh. “I suppose you’re right. It’s
just so unexpected.”
“And that’s what makes it great. So, now that I’ve let the cat out of the bag, I might as well fill you in.” He sat back and reclaimed his plate of food, speaking between bites.
“It’s a big old theme park with rides and things, but there are several fabulous hotels, swimming pools and animals, it’s like everything rolled into one. We can do things for the kids and adulty stuff, and everybody can have a great time. We might even get a little tan if we want to lounge by the pool.” He paused for a drink before answering my unasked question. “We’re flying out first thing, and we’ll have almost three whole days before we have to go back. And yes,” Dan grinned, “Josh will be back in school on Monday morning with the start of the new term. Don’t you worry.”
I shook my head, speechless for only a moment. “Of all the things you might have organized, this would have been the last thing I’d have guessed. You don’t have to do this stuff just for us, you know.”
Dan pretended to look hurt. “I’m not doing it just for you. I’m doing it for myself, because I’ve always wanted to. And—” he gave his fabulous rock star grin. “Because I can’t wait to see the look on the children’s faces when we get there. But now…” He rose to his feet and pulled me with him. “Now it’s time to dance. And then I’ll keep my promise of getting you out of that dress, woman.”
And a couple of hours later—after we had partied hard, said our farewells to the rest of the band and promised to meet up for a ‘post-mortem’ of the tour when we were all back in the UK— he certainly did.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
“Wow!”
Josh’s sound of adoration was genuine, excited, and very loud. We were being driven through the gates of Dan’s chosen holiday theme park toward our hotel, and the scenery was imposing. Rides rose on either side of the well-tended, rose-lined boulevard, and a lake glinted in the sunlight under a deep blue sky. The air was balmy, and the kids seemed to enjoy the journey in this open-top limo as much as the adults.