by Shona Husk
Couldn’t or wouldn’t? “That much is obvious. He’s drinking too much.”
“I know.” Gemma stirred in sugar, slowly as if considering what to say. “But he’s not getting drunk, just keeping numb.”
“Is that what he told you?” Gemma and Dan were pretty close.
She nodded.
“It’s affecting his performance.” Was it something he should raise, or leave with Gemma? If he said nothing, would the band fragment and fall apart? He’d never appreciated what it took to keep going before. He’d thought bands who broke up didn’t want it enough, but it wasn’t that. It was the lives of four different people all pulling it different directions. Something had to give or be realigned for it to all work. He had no life so it wasn’t a problem he faced.
He was sure that wasn’t really a good thing.
“He’s getting there. And he’s still writing.”
Yeah…too many more songs like Seppuku and they’d all be reaching for the sword.
“True. Hopefully he shakes it out.” He drank his coffee, well aware that if Mike quit and Dan didn’t straighten up they were in a world of shit.
“I’m not going to be able to keep an eye on him after this weekend. I have to help move Mum out.”
Ed almost choked on his coffee. “She’s moving?”
He’d been certain that Mr Field had squashed all free will out of his wife years ago. That Gemma had found the courage to move out had been a big deal. Perhaps it had given her mother hope.
“She rang yesterday. Monday is the day. If I’m not there, I’m afraid she’ll back out, then he’ll keep on smothering her.” There was more than a little bitterness in Gemma’s voice. Her father had told her not to come back when she’d left. He’d always hated that his daughter was in a band, that she’d travelled and had fun had eaten him up. There was nothing quite as pathetic as a man whose one pleasure in life was stealing the joy from others. Mr Field was a bully who liked to pick on his daughter and wife—never his boys.
“Where’s she going?” Hopefully far enough away that he couldn’t drag her back.
“Her sister’s in Bunbury.”
He knew Gemma had an aunt down south. And he knew she had to help her mum, but it felt like she was taking off too. One person did not make a band.
She sipped her coffee. “I’ll be gone a few days. That’s all. I have to do this.”
He was hearing that a lot lately.
What did he have to do?
Win.
But he couldn’t name the prize. The one he’d originally set his sights on had been achieved. Getting a contract and putting out the first album. The second album should’ve been easier as they knew what they were doing.
“Do you need a hand?” He didn’t want to ask directly if her father was going to be a problem or get rough. Gemma had always kept the details private, but he didn’t like the idea of Gemma facing the man alone. He was worried about her.
She pulled a face. “By the time he gets home from work we’ll be gone. It’ll be fine, but thanks for offering.”
Ed gave her a tight smile. “Kirsten would’ve given me hell if I hadn’t.”
Gemma laughed. “My aunt won’t let him lure her back. I’ll stay a few days to be sure…with Mike working it won’t matter, will it?”
“Nah, you got to do this.” He knew that, but their dream was bottoming out and no one cared. Had it been his dream and the others were moving on?
“I’ll come back with something. Family always makes me turn to music.” She smiled, but the strain showed in her eyes.
He couldn’t put his fears about the band on the table and add to her worries.
During the week they’d worked on the songs they were covering individually, but they hadn’t run through the whole album from start to finish. If Mike hadn’t been working they would already be prepared…this was far too last minute for Ed’s taste. While they had covered everything from AC/DC to Maroon5 and anything else they had liked the sound of, that had been years ago.
Ed was feeling decidedly underprepared for tomorrow night’s show. It might be low key and fun but he was nervous—more nervous than opening for the first time for the US band that had suddenly broken out with their third album. Selling the Sun been lucky to get the Australian shows. That had opened a door for them, but not enough for them to crack the US market. Not yet.
Mike snagged a beer from the fridge and dropped on to the sofa. “You’re running low.”
“Dan owes a carton.” He was also drinking more than any of them had in a long time. Ed felt like a dick keeping track to make sure Dan was fine to drive, but he knew Gemma was doing the same and she was no mother hen. Mike looked exhausted, draped on the sofa with his eyes closed. He gave Mike’s foot a kick. “Work week’s almost over.”
“Thank fuck. I’ve remembered why being a sparky is plan B, not plan A.”
That was a relief to hear. It seemed that Mike wasn’t ready to leave the band for a steady job. “You don’t like getting up before lunch?”
“Crawling around roof spaces in summer has knobs on it.”
“That’s because you are freakishly tall.”
Mike took a swig of beer and gave Ed the finger. “It’s hot, numb-nuts.” He held the beer to his forehead. He’d come straight from work in his boots, long pants and his shirt with the sleeves rolled up. “We need AC in here.”
“We need to move out of here.” Someone needed to buy a house were they could convert a room. Or get a place down south where they could hide away for a month and do nothing but play. That kind of thing wasn’t going to happen in the near future.
“Amen to that. Where are the other two?”
“Gemma went car shopping with Kirsten, but they are on their way. Dan?” Ed shrugged. Dan had been late every day this week. If he was late for the show, there would be hell to pay. Although Ed hadn’t worked out what that hell would be.
“I’ve had the CD in the car all week.”
“Same CD?” He doubted Mike would’ve gone out and bought a new one.
“Yeah.” Mike smiled. “Made me think about Sarah.”
Sarah had been Mike’s first real girlfriend. He’d been the first one to get a girlfriend and they’d been green with envy. And while Mike had never told, Ed was pretty sure Sarah was the first girl he’d slept with. “Where is she now?”
“No idea. I don’t stalk my exes.”
“Does she stalk you?”
“Unlikely.”
Ed raised his eyebrows. “You get no creepy messages?”
“You can ignore and delete. You don’t have to read them—that or lock up your profile so it’s private.”
At the moment, since he controlled Selling the Sun as well as his personal stuff, it was easier to be visible, highly visible.
People needed to know they existed; the flip side was that Olivia had been able to find him and learn all things they should’ve discussed on their first date…only date. When he’d looked her up there was a reference to the accident and that was all. She was a closed book and he’d failed to get past the cover.
By the time the four of them had run through the album three times it was sounding pretty decent. Mike was too knackered to go another round and Dan was too liquored up to play. It appeared that he hadn’t showered since yesterday and his usually perfectly styled hair was a mess. Ed doubted it was a new look—he fucking hoped it wasn’t.
Mike left with a wave. He might only be able to show up for a few hours because of work, but when he was here he put one hundred percent. Dan, on the other hand…
Dan opened the fridge and found it empty. They’d all had a couple tonight. He slammed the door. This was the moment to say something. Anything.
If he didn’t no one would, even though everyone could see the slippery slope Dan was on. Ed drew in a breath and grew a set—he hadn’t managed to text Olivia but this he could do.
“I’m not restocking it.” Ed crossed his arms. If this was what it took to
get Dan sorted, they’d have dry sessions. The idea was very unappealing in the middle of summer but Dan’s drinking was more than thirst and that wasn’t healthy.
“I know. I’ll bring one in.” Dan raked his fingers through his hair, a dark lock fell over his face as he looked down.
Ed softened his voice. It was obvious Dan’s heart was on the floor and bleeding out. He’d never pegged Lisa as that kind of bitch. “Nah, mate. We need to knuckle down and get this done.” The studio over east was booked for March. The clock was ticking and they had Christmas around the corner and then the summer festivals. The need for momentum and something new was breathing down their necks.
“Fuck off. You’re not my mother.”
No, he wasn’t. And he didn’t want to be. Dan was his friend, but if he didn’t say anything there was nothing Ed could do for him. “You’re turning up, but you aren’t here. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Dan shot Gemma a look that was all razors.
She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Ed might have a point. We might get more work done if you cut back.”
“Welcome to the prohibition.” Dan spread his arms. “What happened to sex, drugs and rock and roll?” His voice rose with each word and he stepped back and almost tripped over the edge of one of the rugs they had to dampen the noise.
“I don’t know. You tell me. Seppuku was pretty dark.”
Something flashed in Dan’s eyes. “It’s just words. It’s all just words. They don’t mean a fucking thing.”
Ed glanced at Gemma. From the Beatles tune she was plucking, she was thinking of his sister and the new car. At least one of them was happy.
“Ed’s getting tense about tomorrow,” Gemma said.
Dan laughed and the tension dissipated. “You need to relax, man. Get laid. They aren’t even our songs.”
“That doesn’t matter, we can’t play crap.” Perth was too small for that and word travelled fast.
“We won’t. Game face tomorrow.” Dan grinned and slapped Ed on the shoulder. “I’ll see you then.”
“On time.”
Dan gave a mock salute and walked out.
Ed waited until he was in his car and out of earshot. “How bad is it, truthfully?”
Gemma stopped playing and looked at him. “Bad. He needs time.”
That was the one thing they didn’t have. “We don’t have time. We need him on board and writing.” They had to get a killer second album done or they might as well pack it all in, get real jobs and make some money. Sometimes the idea was almost tempting, but he knew it was the devil on his shoulder muttering in his ear.
“He knows that. We all know that.”
Ed took a few paces and scrubbed his hand over his hair. There was no point in getting annoyed with Gemma. They were on the same side. He blew out a breath loaded with frustration. “Then what is his problem?”
Did Dan not want this anymore? His family had never really been keen but they had tolerated it. They had loved Lisa, in their eyes she could do no wrong.
“Lisa dragged him through barbed wire and left him standing on a mine.” Gemma put her guitar down. “That’s all you’re getting from me because I don’t want to lose his trust…at the moment I’m the only one he’s talking to.”
Lisa had made the end of the tour difficult for Dan, but he’d never gone into details. At least not to anyone except Gemma. It was probably a good thing that he was talking to someone. “She hoping he’ll blow up in our faces?”
Gemma nodded. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
“Awesome.” Just fucking awesome.
Chapter 9
One of the bridesmaids had brought non-alcoholic bubbly to the hairdresser’s—if they started drinking now they’d be too drunk to party tonight. The six of them sat in the fancy hairdressers wearing black smocks. Most of the women were happy to have the afternoon off work. Olivia wished she had a job, not that she was sharing that with any of them.
So she kept her smile in place. She had to play nicely. This was for Julie. And Julie always got what she wanted in the end. As a kid she’d always been fighting to get out of Julie’s shadow. Every time she found the sun, Julie tried to block it so it shone wholly on her.
“You are so lucky having naturally blonde hair. I have clients who would kill for hair like this.” The hairdresser combed through the tangles at the ends.
“I’m about ready to chop it off.” When it was hot all she did was wear it up. Long hair was a hassle to look after and she’d had long hair all of her life.
“Don’t you dare before the wedding.” Julie leaned forward and glared at her.
Olivia bit back the smile that wanted to form. It was tempting, but it would be another change and she wasn’t ready to up end every part of her life, including how she looked.
“How about I take a few inches off instead? Freshen it up with some layers?” The hairdresser smiled. What she was really saying was that in was in dire need of a cut and the ends were split. Olivia knew that, but getting a haircut was well down on her list of things that needed doing.
Olivia nodded. Since Julie was paying and in charge, agreeing was easier—after all, Julie wouldn’t want her sister’s hair to ruin the wedding. Olivia closed her eyes and listened to Julie talk to the hairdressers and the makeup artist. As long as Julie didn’t deliberately make the bridesmaids look hideous, Olivia didn’t really care what they did. For this event she had no opinion. She repeated that to herself as people bustled around her. Brushes tickled her skin as the makeup was applied.
What was Ed doing? Had he been surfing today? Was he at home working, writing?
She tried to picture him sitting with his guitar, playing. If she hadn’t been doing the hens’ night thing—or broken up with him—it would’ve been nice to see him perform. Could she slip into the performance and watch unnoticed? She’d wanted to call and write it all off as a bad day, but couldn’t.
He was not the kind of guy that girls like her dated. Guys like him slept with a woman and then moved on. Right now that didn’t sound half bad. If it were only herself she had to think about, she’d have gone there.
While she’d told herself it was for the best a thousand times this week, she didn’t believe it. Thinking of him made her heart ache, not for lost love, as she didn’t love Ed—although she suspected that would be easy to do—but for lost opportunities. She’d been given a chance to not just stand in the sun, but to dance, and she’d scuttled under the nearest rock.
She should’ve taken the opportunity to date him…sleep with him. She held her breath for a moment as lust coiled, waiting to be released. Heat flared on her cheeks and she hoped she had enough makeup on that no one could tell.
Had she thrown away her one chance to get laid for another three years?
She wasn’t sure she could go another three years without. She’d definitely thrown away her only chance to sleep with a rock star—although he didn’t consider himself one. Wasn’t that one of the things everyone should do at least once?
A wave of sadness washed over her. She’d thrown away Ed because she’d been having a bad day and been afraid. Better to be the dumper than the dumpee.
He’d have gotten bored with her.
They wouldn’t have lasted the summer.
She didn’t have time.
She had other priorities.
Every excuse rang hollow. She was allowed to have fun, but she’d forgotten how. Having fun meant taking risks and taking risks meant the possibility of getting hurt. Her heart was too fragile.
But when she thought of the way he smiled at her and the way he’d kissed her, she knew it wasn’t her heart holding her back—it was fear about what other people would say. When he walked away she could imagine the comments. All of them in Julie’s mock sympathetic tones.
Of course someone like him would get bored with someone like you.
Did you really think he would stay? Look at you, all scarred.
What kind of guy wants an insta-family?<
br />
She was glad that she’d never said anything to anyone about Ed. And she never would. She wouldn’t forget him either.
“Open up your eyes and I’ll finish off the mascara,” the makeup artist said.
Olivia obediently opened her eyes. The woman in the mirror staring back was a stranger. She was glamorous. Her eyes were wider, bluer. Her lips fuller. She looked like a model or a celebrity.
“What do you think?” The makeup artist added an extra sweep of mascara.
Olivia’s lips curved. She had a night off and she didn’t look like herself—perhaps she should act like someone else too and throw caution out the window. “Perfect.”
She should text Ed and let him know that she’d be in Freo for the hens’ night. Perhaps she could find a way to escape and watch him play. A dozen different ideas chased through her head and not one of them worked. She’d ended it and he hadn’t tried to get her back. Part of her had hoped that he would. In the end the message she send him was a limp good luck.
He didn’t respond.
“We’re very happy to have been invited to the Basement to play one of our favourite albums.” Ed paused as the crowd responded with claps and a few whistles.
It was a small venue—a brightly painted café that put on local live music every Friday and Saturday night—and almost full. A good turnout.
He tried not to think about how he’d invited Olivia. He had tried not to think about her at all this week. And he’d failed.
He hadn’t gone for a surf for the past two days because going there made him think of her. Then she’d texted him as they were setting up.
He had no idea how to respond. Or if he wanted to. So he hadn’t and he’d concentrated on getting ready to perform.
Dan had pulled himself together, was on time, and his hair and clothes were perfectly styled. Seeing that had eased his worry considerably. Mike was looking like a yeti emerging from hibernation and Gemma was oozing attitude.
Selling the Sun at its finest.
They were here to have some fun. Yet the pre-performance nerves were there, twisting his gut. They needed to get started…
“This one we used to play when we were practising, and I believe it’s actually the first CD that Gemma bought with her own money.” He glanced her.