The Rock 'N' the Roll. 'N That

by Steven J. Gill

  “But nothing,” Jamie interrupted. “I really care, Lara. I get you. I get all the bullshit you have to deal with.”

  “Jamie Thorne. You are different. I know that. I do. But it’d be impossible.”

  “Impossible?” Jamie rolled the word around his tongue. “Not if we didn’t want it to be.”

  “Look, Jamie. I’m not serious with this guy. He’s a big deal over here and we just hooked up for a night.” Lara paused. “C’mon Jamie. You know how it works by now. We were good for each other’s column inches.”

  Jamie closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

  “Look, I think I may be over in London in a few weeks. Let’s meet up then.”

  Grasping the futility of the situation, Jamie said, “Okay. Fine. Let me know. But don’t be a stranger…”

  Hanging the phone up, Jamie felt his chest tighten and his breathing quicken. Sitting down, he put his head between his knees and tried to slow the short, sharp panting breaths down.

  “Fuck,” he hissed between hyperventilating breaths.

  After a minute or so, his breathing returned to normal, and more than a little shaken, Jamie flopped down on the sofa and thought of how calm he’d felt when Lara had offered him that smoke…

  ***

  “It’s all booked, Jamie. Just had confirmation from the label. Tom Duffy all confirmed to produce as well. Ten weeks’ studio time and then it can be mastered after that,” Johnny said, as he sat in his apartment scrolling through numerous emails. Studiously avoiding the pile of invoices and receipts that were more pressing.

  “Brilliant. Dom will be made up. He’s totally loved up, but I know can’t wait to get into the studio to get this album done,” Jamie replied.

  “Cool. I know Danny is just the same. He’s loving it with his little ’un but think he wants some band time soon.”

  “Me too. Get this right and we’re—” Jamie struggled slightly for his words. “Well, proves the first one wasn’t a fluke.”

  “I know you’ll get it right and fuck, no-one has said the first album was anything less than brilliant.”

  “Y’know. Difficult second album and that.”

  “Yeah, yeah. We need to catch up soon for a drink. Not the same now you have moved out of town.”

  “We should. Just been enjoying my own space and no mither,” Jamie said. “Come over and pick up a curry and some beers. There’s a couple of spare rooms to crash in.”

  “Cheers J, we’ll sort that.”

  “Nice one Johnny. Speak soon. Chuck all the dates and stuff on an email for us all.”

  Johnny hung up the call. He hadn’t seen anywhere near as much of Jamie since he had sought privacy in his little house in the country. There was no correlation but the situation with Cally had knawed away at him and it worried him that the brothers knew something was afoot.

  ***

  Week one of recording album number two and the band were shacked up at Monmouth Studios.

  “FUCK OFF!” Mikee threw his empty can at the 52-inch plasma screen that sat pride of place in the studio rest room. Fortunately, the can sailed past and hit the wall, leaving a wet splat. “That’s the second fuckin’ idiot that’s covered one of our songs. I fuckin’ hate this shite.”

  “Don’t watch it then,” Johnny said as he popped the offending can in the bin and wiped the stain down with his shirt cuff.

  “Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” Danny said, with a sage-like nod.

  “Very profound D-Mo. That one of your own?” Johnny said.

  “No, I heard so— Oh, fuck off. Very funny,” Danny replied, with a wounded look on his face. “True though innit.”

  “Compliment in one way I suppose. Great for sales,” Johnny said before he was sharply cut off by Mikee.

  “Woah woah woah! We don’t want some X Factor knobhead getting anywhere near one of our songs. You can fuck the money. I’d rather be skint,” Mikee said, with a suitably appalled look on his face.

  “I agree,” Danny said, “And I don’t want my daughter thinking that’s what paid for her education.”

  Both Mikee and Johnny looked at him with bemused looks..

  “She’s two months old. Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?” Johnny said.

  “It’s the principle,” Danny replied, leaning back and putting his shades on. “You know I’m right.”

  Chapter 57

  “I’m glad you called,” Jamie said, just about keeping a lid on his delight.

  “Be at my London apartment at midday tomorrow,” Lara replied. “And be discreet, let’s try and have a camera free day. Or what is it you call them. ‘A scrape’?”

  “I’ll be there. Until Friday,” Jamie said as he clenched his fist.

  “Until Friday, Jamie Thorne.”

  “YES!” he shouted to himself as he punched the air.

  Returning to the confines of the studio, Jamie felt a wave of relief wash over him.

  “Last track and we’re all done,” Dominic said as he saw his brother. “You already to pin that vocal down. Need some fire in your belly, bro.”

  Good job he didn’t hear that phone call then, Jamie thought to himself.

  “I’m spitting fire. Let’s do this,” Jamie said, pulling a serious face that was in stark contrast to his newly re-discovered inner glow.

  ***

  The band had four days of down time so were going their separate ways – Dom was whisking Eleanor off to Paris, Danny was heading home for family time and Mikee was off to Prague on his cousin’s stag do.

  Jamie only had one thing on his mind.

  Lara.

  Pulling his collar up and his woolly hat down, Jamie sat on the platform virtually unrecognisable behind his sunglasses.

  Two uninterrupted hours of First Class train travel followed by a cab saw him direct to Lara’s North London apartment.

  And no scrape of photographers when he arrived. All good so far.

  Buzzing her on the intercom, he took a deep breath and muttered self-encouragement under his breath.

  “Jamie Thorne. And right on time.”

  “Fashionably on time. It’s the new late. Can’t believe you’ve not heard,” Jamie said.

  As Jamie entered the apartment – the door being on the latch – he saw Lara busying herself packing a small wicker hamper.

  “Never had you down as a domestic goddess,” Jamie said, as he put his small overnight bag down on the huge leather sofa.

  “Full of surprises,” Lara replied coyly.

  “Aren’t you just,” Jamie said, with just enough intent to make his point.

  Lara looked over her shoulder, frowned and stuck her bottom lip out slightly, in what Jamie perceived to be an apology.

  He felt his stomach flip slightly. She looked beautiful. With a minimal amount of makeup on, her hair tied up in a pleated ponytail which was resting like a whip on her left shoulder.

  “Aren’t you going to ask what I’m doing?”

  Stepping up behind her, and putting his arms round her waist, Jamie looked down at the hamper which was brim-full of food and bottles of beer.

  “We going somewhere?” Jamie asked.

  “A picnic.” She shut the hamper with a self-satisfied flourish. “At the top of Primrose Hill.”

  Raising an eyebrow quizzically, he said, “Really? Very rock ’n’ roll.”

  “Problem?” Lara said as she spun round and kissed Jamie on the cheek.

  “No. But won’t there be uninvited company?”

  “Nope. They don’t know I’m here.”

  “I’m sure won’t that last long when you spread half of Waitrose’s finest out at the top of some hill,” Jamie huffed.

  “We’ll be fine, Jamie Thorne. You worry too much.”

  “Hmm. Anyhow, am I okay to grab a quick shower?”

  “Sure. But I can’t join you. I’ve only just dried my hair,” Lara said with a twirl of her ponytail.

  “Gimme five minutes. And I am starving!”

>   “Wait till you see all the stuff I’ve got us,” Lara said, like a proud teenager at a yard sale.

  Freshly showered and changed, Jamie, as ever, looked like the consummate Rock Star – Vintage Jeans, Black Denim Jacket and Aviators.

  Lara gave his just waxed hair a quick corrective tweak. “Perfect. You always look so gorgeous, Jamie Thorne, and never have to make any effort. So unfair!”

  He shrugged and picked up the hamper – letting out a slight grunt at the weight of it.

  “There’ll be a car at the back of the building waiting for us. We can use the back entrance. Just to be safe.”

  “Wish you’d told me about that before,” Jamie replied. “Might have made life a little easier.”

  “I’ve only just been given a key for it. If I’d known about it…” Lara said.

  Loading the hamper and themselves into the car, they headed off for some early autumn alfresco dining.

  ***

  Idly ticking off a handful of emails – principally concerned ones from the label as to when the album would be finished. A pre-Christmas release and marketing campaign was planned and despite Johnny’s constant reassuring, they seemed somewhat jittery.

  Firing off yet another conciliatory email, he was about to close his laptop down when an email popped up from their press officer.

  ‘Hey Johnny, Hope all good. Album all on track for the October release I believe. Just a quick heads up. A friend of mine has just told me that Lara is in the country and has ‘tipped off’ the press about her whereabouts. Seems she’s doing some self-promotion for a new clothing line and wants to maximise publicity for the launch. Your call if you want to speak to Jamie. Suzzie.’

  Pulling a perplexed face, Johnny scratched behind his ear and let out a frustrated grumble.

  Tricky one. Jamie was big enough and old enough and could be very prickly where Lara’s shortcomings were concerned. What’s the worst that could happen –a few papped shots in the paper. Lining tomorrow’s recycling bag, he decided. It wasn’t an unheard-of practice, but it certainly left a nasty taste. It was Lara all over…

  ***

  “It’s been so hard whilst you were away,” Dee said, looking jaded with traces of dark circles starting to form under her eyes. Her hair scraped back and a baby sick-flecked A & F hoodie completed the struggling first-time mum image.

  “Shouldn’t that be my line,” Danny said, with a misplaced smirk and a grab of his crotch. “C’mon give her to me.”

  “Not fuckin’ funny!” Dee said, as she turned her shoulder away, shielding their on-the-verge-of-tears-yet-again daughter from him.

  “Ahem. Language.”

  “Fuck off Danny. I’m exhausted,” Dee snapped back.

  “I’m home now, c’mon babe,” Danny said as he put his bag down and reached into the fridge, hunting out a beer.

  “And if you’re after a beer, then you’re out of luck. I’ve had enough on my plate,” Dee said before rocking her daughter gently and shushing her softly.

  “Okay. I get it, you’ve been on your own with our little princess,” Danny said as he rubbed a bony finger under his daughter’s chin. “But I’m here now. I can do my bit.”

  “But you’re only home for a few days,” Dee groaned. “Are you sure they need you? Can’t they do your parts without you?”

  With a wounded look on his face, Danny wrested the bundle of gurgling baby from Dee, her eyes widening at the sight of her returning father. “I hope you don’t mean that…”

  “I’ve heard Dom say he can play bass in his sleep,” Dee said, taking the conversation into uncharted and distinctly hostile waters.

  “Fuckin’ hell! Dom says he can do pretty much anything but don’t believe everything he says,” Danny snapped back, his raised tones startling his daughter.

  “I need you here. You know what I meant.”

  “Not really. It sounded like you’re saying the band could manage without me. MY FUCKIN’ BAND!”

  Dominique screamed loudly, and tiny pearl like tears flowed down her screwed up puce-coloured face.

  “Sorry darling. Mummy doesn’t mean to talk such shit,” Danny said as he attempted to placate his daughter’s histrionics.

  “Mummy does mean it. I can’t cope on my own,” Dee said, holding the palms of her hands to her temples and letting out an anguished grimace.

  “We’ll get help sorted for you. I can afford it,” Danny said as he surveyed the carnage that was their kitchen. Pots of baby food littered the work surface and the sink was overflowing with bowls and feeding bottles.

  “I’d rather you were here, but I suppose…” Dee said, leaving the sentence trailing as a wave of relieve seemed to pour off her.

  “You tell me what you need, and I’ll sort it. I need both of you to be happy. But I need the band.”

  The perfect triangle of his life wouldn’t be complete without each component.

  ***

  “I love it that no-one can see us,” Eleanor said, following it up with a contented giggle as she raised her arms over her head and let her exquisitely pert breasts rise above the bubbling waters of the newly installed hot-tub.

  Dominic looked over and placed his beer down on the thick pine border and pulled her over to him. As he kissed her softly, he felt Eleanor’s hand snake beneath the surface and pull at his already stirring cock. Leaning back and closing his eyes, he thought, it doesn’t get much better than this. Second album nearly in the bag and sounding sensational – especially the guitar parts – beautiful and doting girlfriend. And a hot-tub with sensational views overlooking his hometown…

  “Don’t finish me off in the water,” Dominic said in between contented grunts. “The guy that installed it said not to block the filters.”

  “Spoilsport,” Eleanor purred. “Sit up on the edge then,” she said as she positioned herself in front of him.

  With a satisfied smile, Dominic hoisted himself out of the water and let her suck him off to a satisfying climax. Turned out things could get even better…

  ***

  “I’ll be your Salad-vation” read the typically-tabloid punning headline. “Lara Bearheart, over in the UK to promote her newly launched clothing line, but still found time for her bad boy but oh so pretty on/off Rockstar boyfriend as they frolicked raunchily during a picnic on Primrose Hill yesterday. Jamie Thorne never seems to be far away when Lara hits town and our exclusive pictures show that their alfresco dining brought out the wicked side of them. They kissed in between mouthfuls of the expensively packed hamper and downed two bottles of white wine – Lara also seemed quite intent on seeing what the lead singer was packing under his jeans as she constantly ran her hands over him. Dressed in her own clothing line ‘Bearheart’, Lara looked amazing as she lay back and let Jamie kiss her. Busy with the launch of her personally designed fashion label and with Jamie just putting the finishing touches to his band’s second album, the picnic clearly showed they still have time for each other no matter how busy they are. We hope Jamie didn’t get dressing on his jeans!”

  “Fuck’s sake,” Johnny said to himself as he scanned down the article. Their press officer had been right. The public picnic had been a pre-prepared stunt to boost Lara’s profile whilst she plugged her new brand.

  Frowning and running a thumb over his eyebrow, Johnny felt perplexed as to whether Jamie needed to hear about this. The article read like an advert for her launch and was so obviously a plant. Hopefully Jamie will work that out for himself, Johnny mused with an irritated scowl.

  ***

  The morning after the papped picnic, Lara and Jamie were lay on the king-size bed in Lara’s apartment.

  “When will you be back? We’re in America again before Christmas but I want to see you before then,” Jamie said.

  Putting her hand on his taut torso, Lara replied, “I don’t know. I’m busy with the launch Stateside. Got to see how it goes.”

  Taking a deep breath, he said, “I don’t like this just seeing each other when our paths c
ross, y’know.”

  “And as I have said before, that big pond makes it difficult. And I don’t see you moving to the States. You rock stars always head to L.A anyhow,” Lara said before she kissed Jamie, almost patronisingly, on the forehead.

  “I know bu—”

  “There’s no buts. How can we commit when we live so far apart?” Lara said with a neatly rehearsed line in evasion.

  “I suppose,” Jamie said with a grumble.

  Rolling over to pick up his mobile that had just pinged, Jamie flicked open the message and let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s from my Johnny. We’re all over the papers again after our picnic. I said it was a bad idea!”

  “You’re fucking shitting me,” Lara said convincingly. “How the holy fuck could they have known?”

  “Not a clue,” Jamie said with a shake of his head. “They get everywhere.”

  “They surely do,” Lara said, before she slowly slipped under the thin summer weight duvet and set about satisfying Jamie’s morning glory…

  ***

  “Oh Dominic! Absolutely. And Eleanor Thorne has such a lovely ring to it.”

  “Talking of which,” Dominic said, and with a flourish, he produced a small black velvet box which had been concealed under a bath sheet by the side of the hot-tub.

  Eleanor’s eye’s widened as she flipped open the clasp and saw the exquisite vintage diamond ring contained within. “It’s so beautiful,” she cooed as the ring slid over her finger.

  “Careful with it in here! I don’t want you losing it if the fit’s not right.”

  “It fits perfectly. I love you, Dominic.”

  “And I love you, my Queen.”

  “When are you thinking?” Her voice full of nervous excitement.

  “Soon. We’re off to America sometime in October. Vegas? Find a cool little chapel and then book a sick hotel for the aftershow.”

  “But what about my parents? And your mum?” Eleanor said with a slight frown.

  “Fly them out. I wouldn’t want them missing their beautiful girl getting married.”