“Jake,” she called out from the control room. “Can you come through to the lounge, please? I need a word.”
“On my way, boss,” he called back.
In the lounge, he found Maddy sitting on the settee with both babies on her knee. Sitting down beside her, Jake offered to hold one of them for her. She passed him Hayden, who was contentedly playing with her car keys.
“What’s up, boss?” he asked calmly.
“I’ve set up your press interview,” Maddy replied.
“Where and when?” asked Jake, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him.
“Sunday afternoon. Here,” she said softly. “I’ve hand-picked the journalists. Two of them are flying in tomorrow from London. There will be five of them in total, plus a sound recordist. It’s still strictly limited to a one hour slot. Scott will do any photography that’s required.”
“I thought we said four?”
“We did, but I’ve called in a favour or two and got a slot on a UK rock station. The DJ is the fifth person. She’s a personal friend.”
“What time do I need to be out here?” asked Jake, hugging Hayden a little tighter, seeking some reassurance.
“Be here for one thirty. We’ll start at two.”
“Is it too late to change my mind?” asked Jake with a worried smile.
“Way too late, Mr Power.”
“Guess we’ll be here then,” agreed Jake. “Lori’s coming with me. Moral support.”
“Someone else is coming for moral support too,” added Maddy. “I spoke to Lucy earlier. She’s driving down tomorrow morning for the weekend.”
First thing on Saturday morning, before the heat began to rise, Jake set off for a walk along the beach. Beside him, as he walked, the waves were crashing onto the shore, leaving a foaming trail in their wake. He had come out in his bare feet and walked along, allowing the cool water to wash over them. The rhythm of the surf helped to calm his nerves. It had been arranged that Scott would come out to the house mid-morning to film the video message for the fan page. As he walked, Jake went over and over in his mind what he planned to say. About a mile from the house, he stopped for a rest, sitting down on the soft sand, watching the rise and fall of the ocean swell. A part of him longed to be able to run out and dive into the waves for a swim. Common sense told him there was no way his shoulder would stand up to that. Taking a calculated risk, he had left the sling off, deciding to test how his shoulder felt after an hour or so without support.
Already it was growing hot under the July sun. He carefully removed his vest T-shirt before getting to his feet and heading for home. He was almost at the house when he spotted two young boys playing in the shallows, splashing each other and yelling loudly. Sitting on the sand, keeping a watchful eye on them was a young woman. It was Lucy. Although they had spoken on the phone several times over the last two weeks, he hadn’t seen her since the day of the accident. Jake was almost beside her before she turned round.
“Jake!” she squealed leaping to her feet. “Oh, Jake!”
“Gentle, Lucy. Don’t hug me too hard,” he cautioned as she rushed towards him.
“You look great,” she said, taking his hand instead of hugging him. “I’d expected you to look battered and bruised.”
“Still a bit battered on the inside,” he confessed, putting his good arm around her shoulders.
“And the scar’s not too noticeable.”
Touching his cheek and running his finger along the fresh red line, Jake had to agree that it could’ve been a lot worse.
Before they could continue their conversation, the two boys came running up the beach. They had obviously been well warned not to leap all over their favourite uncle, but instead danced round him, begging him to come into the ocean with them.
“Not just now, guys,” said Jake, smiling at their infectious enthusiasm. “Maybe later, if my shoulder feels ok.”
When they got back up onto the sun deck, they found Scott there, setting up his video equipment. The boys charged on ahead into the house, drying sand flying off their bare feet as they ran.
“Morning,” called out Jake.
“Jake!” exclaimed Scott, nearly dropping the camera he was holding. “How you doing?”
“Good,” replied Jake, realising he genuinely meant it. “I’m getting there. You?”
“I’m ok,” shrugged the younger man. “It’s weird being at the apartment. It’ll be worse next week when Alice comes back for his things.”
“That’ll be hard,” agreed Jake. “You know you can stay on there as long as you like?”
With a sigh of obvious relief, Scott smiled. “Thanks. I hadn’t wanted to assume. I owe you one.”
While the filmmaker finished setting up, they chatted through the plan for the video. As the press had been guaranteed an exclusive interview, they agreed there was little Jake could say. When Lucy came back out onto the deck with a juice for Jake, she suggested he keep it really short and just simply thank the fans for being there for them. As an afterthought, she suggested he could record extra mini-messages to go out for each of the festival shows, welcoming fans along.
“You’ll wear me out,” he teased as he drained the juice glass. “Let me go and put a clean shirt on then we can get started.”
“Nothing too fancy, Jake,” cautioned Scott. “Remember, we’re going for the recovering at home look first.”
“I hear you.”
Half an hour later, they were all gathered out on the sun deck, all except the boys who had been taken into town by their father. At Lucy’s suggestion, Rob had taken their sons into Rehoboth promising to buy them pizza and ice cream. Jake had changed into a clean T-shirt and shorts, taking Scott’s hint about not being too dressed up to heart. His shoulder was protesting after being unsupported for a couple of hours so he had slipped his makeshift scarf sling back on. Feeling self-conscious, he sat down on the bench at the edge of the deck and let Scott fuss about as he set up the shoot. Both Lucy and Lori were sitting at the table with a coffee, casually watching.
“Relax, Jake,” said Scott, noticing how tense the musician looked. “Would you rather I did some stills shots first?”
“No,” replied Jake sharply. “Let’s just get this done. I fucking hate video shoots and cameras. You should know that by now!”
“It’s ok,” laughed Scott. “I won’t take it personally. Right, I’m ready whenever you are.”
Recording the thank you message went easier than either of them could have hoped for. Two takes and they were done. Filming the four short videos to announce the live shows took longer. At the girls’ suggestion, Jake changed shirt for each one to help make it look as though the recordings had been done at different times, then, jumping on that idea, Scott moved location for the shoot every time to a different part of the house. Finally, the last segment was filmed with Jake leaning against his truck out in the driveway.
Over lunch the four of them watched the playback, Jake cringing when he saw himself on screen.
“That’s fabulous!” enthused Lucy, hugging her brother gently. “Thank you for doing all of this.”
“I’d love to say it has been a pleasure,” he grumbled. “When are you adding the thank you to your page, wall or whatever you call it?”
“As soon as Scott emails the video file,” said Lucy. “The sooner the better. The page gets the most traffic over the weekend.”
“Already sent it to you,” commented Scott from the far end of the table. “And, Jake, the stills shoot’s complete too.”
“When?” asked Jake, looking bemused and not recalling being asked to pose for photos.
“Over lunch,” revealed Scott, showing him the compact camera that had been hidden by his side. “On silent. No flash. You never suspected a thing.”
“Sneaky bastard,” declared Jake with a grin, relieved that he was done for the day.
“Can we see them?” begged Lucy.
“Let me get them onto my PC,” replied Scott. “Give me hal
f an hour.”
While the girls cleared away the lunch dishes, Jake sat in the sunroom with Scott reviewing the photos. There weren’t many, but with some clever editing, the photographer pulled an album together to pass over to Lucy. With his work done, Scott packed up his equipment and announced that he was heading home. He declined Jake’s invitation to stay, saying he had “official” work to finish off, but promised to be out at JJL early the next day for the press interview.
♫
Despite their best efforts to get out to JJL early, Jake and Lori arrived a few minutes later than planned for the interview. Their departure had been delayed, partly because Lucy and Rob decided to head home with the boys instead of Lucy coming out to the studio and partly due to the heavy traffic that was backing up the highway. As Lori parked the Mercedes in the shade beside the studio, she noted there were several cars already out front, mainly rental cars. Once the engine had stopped, Jake called Maddy to say they had arrived. She told him to stay put and that she would come round to brief him before he went in to meet the media personnel. A few seconds later, she came striding round the side of the building, her trademark heels clicking on the path.
“I was getting worried that you’d changed your mind!” she called out cheerfully. “You ok?”
“I’ll be better once this is over,” confessed Jake, getting awkwardly out of the car.
“He barely slept all night,” added Lori, coming round to join them. “He’s a nervous wreck.”
“Yeah, I am,” conceded Jake. “I’m just worried that I’ll make an idiot of myself and get too emotional in there. It’s still all so raw.”
“I understand,” sympathised Maddy warmly. “Remember, you are calling the shots on this one. If you need a break, we’ll take one. If you don’t want to answer a particular question, you don’t have to. For what it’s worth, they are all terrified of upsetting you.”
With a jaded smile, Jake said, “Let’s get this over and done with then I’m going home for a stiff drink.”
All five of the journalists were chatting amiably over coffees in the lounge when Jake walked in, holding on tightly to Lori’s hand. One couch had been deliberately left empty, but instead of sitting there, Jake pulled over a hard chair from the table and sat down. Both Lori and Maddy took a seat on the vacant settee.
“Jake,” began Maddy. “Let me introduce you to Ben, Kurt, Kayla, Sam and, from London, Debbie and her assistant, Joe.”
“Pleasure,” said Jake quietly, an unexpected hint of shyness to his tone. “What’s the plan here?”
“Well,” started Debbie, her London accent sounding out of place in the room. “If I can ask you a few questions first off to cover enough for the radio slot that would be good.”
“We’re all agreed to share your responses to an extent. Saves you repeating yourself,” explained Ben, his voice a surprisingly deep Texan drawl. “We’re just honoured that you feel up to chatting with us this afternoon.”
“The aim’s to keep this as relaxed as possible,” added Kayla softly. “And not to distress you or make you feel uncomfortable.”
Glancing round at their anxious faces, Jake paused for a moment, swallowed hard then nodded, “Sounds like a plan.”
“Are you happy for Joe to record the whole interview?” asked Debbie with a nod to the sound man.
“As long as we get to hear the tape before you air it,” stated Maddy bluntly. “Management want final veto an all output from today.”
“Let me grab a juice, then we can make a start,” said Jake, forcing a nervous smile. “Lori, do you want something?”
“Just a water, thanks,” she replied, smiling at him.
Once Jake had returned to his seat with a bottle of flavoured water, Debbie asked the opening question.
“First of all,” she began with a warm, friendly smile. “Thank you for agreeing to this. We appreciate it’s been a horrendous last couple of weeks for you and the band. I guess, the first question has to be, how are you? You’re looking great.”
“Thanks,” replied Jake, nervously playing with the label on the water bottle. “I’m still a bit tender and bruised. All things considered, I got off lightly. Bruised ribs, mild concussion, a cut below my eye and a dislocated shoulder.”
“And how is the shoulder? I see you’ve still got it supported.”
“It’s getting there. I’ve dislocated it a few times over the years and each time it takes a little longer to heal. It’s amazing how many things you do with your left hand though. It’s driving me insane.”
“Any idea how long you’ll be wearing the support?”
“Maybe another week or so. I’ve been exercising gently. Trying to build it back up. And, yes, before you ask, I have been playing my guitar a bit,” he replied with a smile.
“And how’s Rich? He wasn’t able to be here today we understand,” continued Debbie.
“He’s on the mend. Rich broke his nose quite badly and had to have surgery to reconstruct it. I believe he has to have another procedure next week sometime. The gash above his eye has healed up and his bruises are fading too.”
“I don’t want to bring back the horrors of the 6th of July but are you able to tell us what happened?”
Looking to Lori and Maddy for some moral support, Jake took a deep breath before attempting to answer the question he had been dreading. “We were on our way home after the record company birthday celebrations in Philly. Kayla, you were there, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” replied the journalist softly. “I was talking to Gary when you came over to say it was time to go.”
Blushing slightly as he recalled how blunt he’d been, Jake continued, “It had been a long, hot afternoon. We were all keen to get back down here. The plan was to meet up back at our house for a BBQ and a few beers. Grey and Paul were following behind us a couple of cars back. I’d just called them to check if they were still coming over to the house to eat. I had just put my cell back in my pocket when we came up to the intersection. I was in the back. Gary was sound asleep up front. That guy could sleep anywhere, anytime. Rich was driving.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “Anyway, I looked over and saw the truck charging straight at us. It was swaying as it ran the stop light. I yelled at Rich to watch out. He tried to steer out of the way, but we didn’t stand a chance. The tanker hit the front quarter of the car and the rest’s a bit of a blur. I remember being thrown about. I remember the noise. I remember climbing out of the car. The door was twisted and I had to kick it open. There was debris everywhere. I was yelling on Gary when Grey reached me. He tried to keep me calm. Tried to get me off the highway. He got me over to the grass verge. As I sat down, I passed out. I remember the paramedics working on my shoulder to pop it back in as I lay on the grass. I vaguely remember being in the back of the ambulance, but that’s pretty much it. I came to in the emergency room.”
He could feel the emotion thickening in his throat. With trembling hands, Jake opened the water bottle and drank deeply from it.
“Did you realise how serious things were?” asked Debbie, wiping a tear from her cheek.
“They told us at the hospital that they hadn’t been able to save Gary,” answered Jake, his voice quiet and wavering slightly. “I think we all knew in our hearts though when we saw where the truck had landed. I just hope to God he didn’t suffer. It all happened in just a few seconds. It's like slow motion at the time. It’s like you are watching it happen to someone else. We were all helpless to do anything. The truck driver had apparently had a seizure at the wheel. He died shortly afterwards too.” Jake paused to compose himself. “It’s all too easy to torture yourself with “what ifs”. If we’d stayed longer at the party or if we’d left earlier. If we’d stopped at our usual haunt for coffee. You can’t afford to think that way. At least, I can’t afford to think like that. It was a tragic accident. Two good men lost their lives, but it could have been so much worse.”
“That’s very gracious of you, sir,” commented Ben in hi
s slow Texan drawl. “Have you been back out to the site?”
“Yes,” replied Jake, watching as Lori passed a tissue to the openly weeping Debbie. “It’s on our road home. There’s no way to avoid it. The first time we went back out was about a week ago. Gary’s family are here from England and his young brother needed to see it. Lori drove us out there. That was tough. Really tough.”
“I’ll bet it was,” sympathised the Texan.
Kayla took up the lead and commented, “I was at the memorial service last week. That was a beautiful reading and you did incredibly well to play too. How hard was that?”
“Incredibly hard,” Jake admitted sadly. “Alice, Gary’s sister, asked if I would play. There was no way I could turn her down. Deciding what to play was tough. It was only when I sat up at the front of the chapel that I finally decided on “Yesterday”.”
“Perfect choice,” Kayla concurred.
“There were a couple of songs on the short list that would’ve been appropriate too.”
Composing herself once more, Debbie apologised for her emotional display.
“No need to apologise,” reassured Jake warmly. “There’s been a shit load of tears shed over the last couple of weeks. I’ve shed my fair share.”
“No, I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes again. “I knew Gary really well back in London. He’s left a huge hole behind in a lot of hearts.”
“He had friends all over the world,” Jake observed. “Everywhere he went, he met someone he knew.”
“So what’s next?” asked Debbie, changing tack. “I believe the record is almost finished and that there are plans for some live shows?”
“The record’s almost done,” began Jake, glancing at Maddy for reassurance on how much he could disclose. “We’ve got a week or so left here at JJL. There’s a bit of guitar tracking to be done and some vocal tracks. We’re taking it one step at a time. I can’t put in a full day. The strength and stamina just aren’t there. Also Rich can’t sing right now so that gave us a problem. There’s a few challenges there to be overcome but we’ll do it.”
Impossible Depths (Silver Lake series Book 2) Page 24