Impossible Depths (Silver Lake series Book 2)

by McCallum, Coral

  Passing his glass to Jethro, the burly Scotsman tore open the small white envelope in front of them. He accepted his glass back, then slowly began to read out loud, “Boys and girls, raise your glasses to welcome the start of a new Weigh Station generation. I ask that you welcome Jake as your new front man. Keep him right out there tonight. Now get your sorry asses out there and rock the fucking roof off this joint.”

  Folding the note over, Laughlan raised his glass, “To Dan.”

  Breaking his own pre-show “no alcohol rule”, Jake downed the shot of tequila in one gulp. The late singer’s last request had stunned him. Judging by the silence in the room, it had stunned them all.

  “Let’s fucking do this!” yelled Mikey, slamming his glass down.

  Standing at the side of the stage a few minutes later, listening to the crowd cheering and chanting for Weigh Station, Jake was visibly trembling with nerves. A few feet away, Lori and Rich stood in the shadows watching the fans. He glanced over at them, managing to catch Lori’s eye. Playfully, she blew him a kiss and mouthed, “I love you, rock star.” With an anxious smile, he pretended to catch the kiss and blew one back.

  Weigh Station’s intro tape began to play. The capacity crowd went wild, their cheers echoing up to the rafters. As agreed earlier, Jake allowed the three members of the band to run out on stage first. Centre stage, a single spotlight shone on the empty mic stand, forever Dan’s mic stand.

  “Toss me another mic,” said Jake to the roadie beside him. “Change of plan.”

  Holding the radio mic in his clammy hand, Jake loped out on stage to a thunderous welcome from the audience. As soon as he was in position, Phil began the snare drum intro to the set opener. Steve slid in on bass, then Mikey joined them on guitar. With a quick glance at the Weigh Station guitarist for reassurance, Jake launched into Wreckless. Deliberately, he stood to one side of the microphone stand that stood centre stage. A fan in the front row threw a single red rose onto the stage. Another fan tossed up a Weigh Station scarf. While Mikey took the spotlight for his first solo of the night, Jake used the scarf to tie the rose onto the mic stand.

  With the first number in the bag, Weigh Station charged straight into their second song, Midnight Raiders, a fast paced, hard and heavy Weigh Station classic. Once the second song was successfully executed, Jake felt his nerves begin to settle as he sang his way through the third number. At the end of the song, he stepped forward to address the crowd for the first time, “Good evening, Wembley!”

  A roar from the fans came straight back at him.

  “I said, good evening, Wembley!” bellowed Jake with a grin.

  This time the audience’s response was deafening.

  “Much better,” he acknowledged, gazing out at the endless sea of upturned faces. “Thank you for coming out tonight. And thank you for such a warm welcome.”

  Another cheer went up. I

  “It was Dan’s wish that tonight went ahead as planned so, in honour of the great man, I’d like you all to join in with us on the next one. This is Battle Scars!”

  In the wings, Jethro had come out to stand between Rich and Lori, all three of them focussed on the stage, following Jake’s every move. He was playing the “guest” vocalist role to perfection and had easily won over the grieving Weigh Station fans. At the odd moment where he faltered slightly on the lyrics, the crowd came to his rescue.

  “Leaving that mic stand empty was an inspired move,” said Jethro, whispering loudly into Lori’s ear.

  “A nice show of respect,” she agreed, keeping her eyes fixed on her fiancé.

  “Time I went to get ready,” stated Rich, moving round behind them. “Hope I don’t screw this up.”

  “You’ll be fine, son,” assured Jethro, clapping him on the back.

  Out on stage, Jake had finally relaxed into his role as Weigh Station front man. There was one more number on the set list before Rich was due to join them for Sunset After The Storm.

  “Ok, folks?” he called out loudly. “Still with us?”

  Looking across to Mikey and then to Steve on his other side, he was relieved to see the older musicians smiling at him. With a deep sigh, Jake began, “I think you all know this next one. This was one of Weigh Station’s first hit singles. I remember standing in my bedroom, trying to master this one on my guitar a long time ago. It’s a huge honour to be up here singing it with these guys, especially tonight.”

  A huge unexpected cheer went up.

  “Folks, this is Download!”

  Word perfect, the fans sang along, supporting Jake through the Weigh Station anthem. Hearing the Wembley choir accompanying him made Jake dig deeper and sing stronger. He was aware of Mikey and Steve moving into position behind him, just as they would’ve done if it had been Dan holding the microphone. It felt good; it felt like he was being given the seal of approval. It felt appropriate.

  When the song ended, Mikey nudged him and said simply, “Shirt off.”

  Remembering his half-dressed state the last time he had performed on that same stage with Dan and the boys, Jake nodded then carefully peeled off his sweat soaked shirt.

  Clutching it in one hand, he yelled, “Ladies and gentlemen, give a huge London welcome to our special guest for the next song. Let’s hear it for my good friend from Silver Lake, Mr Rich Santiago!”

  Obligingly, the Weigh Station fans cheered loudly as Rich stepped out on stage to join the band. Tucking his T-shirt into his belt, Jake accepted his own guitar from the guitar tech. While he got himself settled and plugged in, he announced, “Sunset After The Storm.”

  Spotting a group of young female fans pointing to the shirt tucked into his belt, Jake laughed, then tossed it down into the crowd.

  Focussing all his energies on the fast paced song, Jake powered his way through Sunset After The Storm. Having Rich out on stage with him restored a feeling of normality for a few short minutes. All too soon the song reached its final chorus and Rich was waving farewell to the London audience. He stepped forward to hug his friend. “You’re doing an amazing job out here.”

  “Thanks, buddy,” said Jake, breathing heavily after the exertion of the song. “Home strait now.”

  Turning to face the fans, Jake cried out, “London, let’s hear it for Rich Santiago!”

  He let the cheers and whistles die down before he said simply, “Broken Bottle Empty Glass.”

  Singing the gentle, husky lyrics without Dan by his side felt surreal. As he sang his way through the first verse, Jake could feel his control over his emotions sliding out of his grasp. It struck him hard that Dan had written this ballad about an alcoholic’s battle with his demons before finally succumbing. In the circumstances, it felt inappropriate. Realising that Dan had died in a mirror image of the song chilled him to the core. Somehow, he found an inner resolve and made it through to the last verse. As he sang the final lines, his emotions seized control, forcing Jake to allow the audience to carry the song through the final chorus. Turning his back on the arena, Jake signalled to Mikey that he needed a moment to compose himself. Seeing the younger man’s emotional distress, Mikey walked over and clapped him on the shoulder, then stepped to the front of the huge stage.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we couldn’t have stood up here tonight without the help of Jake here. He’s been incredible all week. A real tower of strength. Let’s hear a huge Wembley cheer for the awesomely talented Jake Power!”

  Having wiped himself down with a towel and swallowed a few mouthfuls of water, Jake gathered himself to resume his duties as front man.

  “Thank you,” he said humbly. As Mikey and Steve began the intro to the final number of the set, Jake raised his arms in the air to conduct the crowd to clap along in time to another Weigh Station classic anthem, Long Travelled Roads.

  “Let me see those fucking hands in the air!”

  The immediate and passionate response from the fans filled him with pride. A few minutes later as the last notes faded away, he heard himself yell out, “Thank you,
London. You’ve been fucking awesome tonight. You’ve all done Dan proud.”

  With a wave to the crowd, the band left the stage to deafening cheers. As they stood, out of sight, at the side of the stage, drying themselves off and grabbing bottles of water, behind them the crowd began to sing a Weigh Station song that had been left out of the set – Miles From Home.”

  “Do you know that one?” demanded Mikey sharply.

  Jake nodded, “It’s been a while, but, yes, sir, I do.”

  “Change of encore, boys,” ordered the guitarist. “If that’s the one those fans want, then that’s what we play next then the encore as planned.”

  When the band walked back out onto the stage, the crowd went wild. Raising his hand for quiet, Jake said, “We’ve got the message, guys. Unrehearsed, here’s Miles From Home. Especially for each and every one of you. Help me out here if you can. It’s been a while.”

  Despite the lack of pre-show rehearsal, Jake’s years of practice in his bedroom as a teenager stood him in good stead. He roared his way word perfect through the hard, fast classic rock track.

  Gasping a bit for breath, he thanked the crowd. “I’d like to thank you folks for making tonight special. For helping the boys and I celebrate Dan’s career and his all too short life. I’d ask you to indulge me for a few minutes. Dan was my idol when I first began to sing. It was an incredible honour to share a stage with him. I’d like to honour his memory now by singing the last song he sang with me and Silver Lake a few months back. This is Simple Man.”

  Behind him, Mikey had swapped his electric guitar for a twelve string acoustic. With a nod to Jake, he began the delicately picked intro to the southern rock classic.

  “Well mama told me,” sang Jake, his voice warm and slightly husky.

  In front of him, the arena lit up in a sea of cell phone lights, flickering like candles as far back as he could see. The crowd swayed gently in time to the classic song and sang along beautifully with the chorus. As he gazed out across the room, Jake hoped that somewhere Dan was out there looking down on the beautifully poignant tribute to him.

  “Let’s end this party in true Weigh Station style!” screamed out Mikey. “We’ll bid you farewell as we Rock It Out On Fire!”

  Stepping off stage for the night, Jake stepped straight into Lori’s arms. Her cheeks were wet with tears and, disregarding his half naked sweaty state, she held him tight. Around them, Weigh Station finally let their grief show as the enormity of what they had just achieved out on stage hit them. Brusquely, Laughlan was chasing the lingering media personnel and photographers down the hallway to give the band some privacy. Out in the arena, the fans were trooping out, while the PA system played “Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life.”

  “You ok?” asked Lori softly as Jake bent to kiss her.

  “Yeah,” he replied hoarsely, kissing her slowly and deeply.

  “Hey, Romeo,” teased Jethro, putting his arms round them both. “Grab a beer, hit the shower then we’re expected to party till dawn.”

  “I hear you,” answered Jake. “Give me half an hour.”

  A private function suite in a nearby hotel had been booked for the after show party. When Jake walked into the room with his arm protectively round Lori’s waist, he was greeted with a round of applause from the Weigh Station crew. Theatrically, he bowed, then accepted a shot glass from a passing waitress. Again, in Dan’s honour, the tequila was flowing like water. In the centre of the room, Laughlan was holding court with two young girls, both of whom looked too young to be there. Spotting Jake and Lori, the burly Scot waved them over to join him.

  “Jake,” he began, putting his arm around the two girls. “Have you met Melissa and Jenny?”

  “I don’t think so,” replied Jake, sounding surprisingly shy. His voice was still hoarse after the show and he cleared his throat before adding. “Pleasure to meet you both.”

  There was something familiar about the girls, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. As usual, it was Lori, who stepped in to his rescue.

  “Long time no see,” she said, hugging them both warmly. “I’m so sorry about your dad.”

  Instantly, the penny dropped, and before he could help himself, Jake blurted out, “You’re Dan’s daughters!”

  Giggling, Melissa nodded before wrapping her arms around him. “Thank you for tonight. Dad would’ve loved that show.”

  “It was an honour,” replied Jake, brushing her cheek with a kiss. “And I’m sorry he wasn’t here to see me suffering out there.”

  “You did an incredible job,” enthused Jenny, the younger of the two sisters. “And you played my favourite song.”

  “What one?” asked Jake, flashing her a “Power” smile.

  “Miles From Home,” she revealed with a hint of her grief creeping into her voice.

  “I’m glad that one worked out,” confessed Jake, downing his shot of tequila. “We hadn’t rehearsed it and when the fans started singing it, we knew we had to play it. I’ve not sung that since I was about seventeen.”

  Beside him, he could feel Lori trying to stifle a giggle.

  “What’s so funny, li’l lady?” he enquired, raising one eyebrow at her.

  Giggling uncontrollably, Lori said, “I just got a mental picture of you singing into a hairbrush microphone in front of the mirror in your bedroom. Tennis racquet guitar in hand.”

  “It was a real guitar,” laughed Jake, remembering the scene vividly. “But it was a deodorant can not a hairbrush, if you must know.”

  A voice from behind them interrupted their laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” asked Mikey, handing Jake another shot glass. “Pray tell?

  “Sorry, Uncle Mike,” teased Melissa, kissing the older musician on the cheek. “You had to be here.”

  “Hmph,” he snorted as he downed his shot. “How’re you girls holding up?”

  Putting her hand on Jake’s arm, Lori silently indicated that they should circulate the room.

  Arm in arm, they slowly worked their way round the guests, pausing to talk to several members of the Weigh Station entourage. At one table, Lori met several fellow artist friends that she hadn’t seen for some time. While she caught up with them, Jake moved on in search of Rich and Jethro. Hostesses glided round the room with trays of tequila shots, but Jake resisted temptation. As he passed the bar, he asked for a large glass of water and a beer. His throat was tight after singing the unfamiliar set and he still felt more than a little dehydrated. Standing at the bar, he gazed round the room, scarcely able to believe it was all real. The cold water helped to chill the fire in his throat and he prayed silently that he hadn’t strained it again. Watching Lori chat animatedly at the far side of the room made him smile. She was positively glowing.

  “You’re a lucky man,” commented Jethro, interrupting his thoughts. “She’s a beautiful creature.”

  Nodding, Jake added, “Lady Butterfly herself.”

  “Whereas you are more like a moth,” mused the Silver Lake manager cryptically.

  “Pardon?”

  “A moth to the flame of rock stardom,” Jethro explained. “Front man of two major rock bands. Not a bad flame to choose.”

  “Well, I don’t know about fronting two bands,” said Jake, chugging on his ice cold beer.

  “Laughlan assures me the guys are up for it,” Jethro continued seriously. “Even before he read out that letter earlier on, Mikey had suggested they make you an offer. That was what all the huddling in corners was about. The job’s all yours, Mr Power.”

  “Me? Front Weigh Station?”

  “You already have,” observed the older man wisely. “And you were incredible out there tonight. I had my reservations, but you pulled off a miracle. Think seriously about this, Jake.”

  “I will,” he agreed, before downing the rest of his beer.

  Above him, the fasten seatbelt sign was still lit; beside him, Lori had dozed off, worn out after two late nights. The night after the show, they had been invited
to a private dinner with the members of Weigh Station and their families at Mikey’s house in North London. It had been late when the taxi had dropped them off at the hotel and their six o’clock alarm call to get them up in time for their flight home had been most unwelcome. Now, two hours into the flight back to Philadelphia, Lori was sound asleep with her head resting on his shoulder. In slumber, she looked pale, but peaceful. Gently fingering her hair, Jake smiled to himself. In a few short weeks, they would be married. There was just the small matter of Silver Lake’s European tour to complete and then they would be joined together as husband and wife; moth to butterfly, as Jethro had phrased it. Behind him, he could hear the band’s manager and Rich discussing technical details of the planned stage equipment set up for the UK shows. Both of them passionately debating pedals, amps and voltage. With a yawn, Jake lifted the plastic champagne glass from the tray table in front of him. Silently, he toasted the future – friends, family, health, happiness and rock and fucking roll.

  The story of Jake and Lori will continue in Book 3 in the Silver Lake series

  Bonded

  Souls

  Excerpt from Bonded Souls – Book 3 in the Silver Lake series due to be published in 2017

  Warmth and the buzz of conversation welcomed Jake and Lori as they entered Amarone a few minutes after seven. Spotting them almost instantly, Marco, the maître d’, was at their side showing them to a discrete, candlelit corner table and offering to take their coats. He helped Lori to slip her wool jacket from her shoulders, then turned to take Jake’s leather jacket. Politely, Jake declined the offer, hanging his jacket over the back of the chair instead. Beside the table, as requested, sat an ice bucket with a bottle of Lori’s favourite champagne chilling inside. Both of them were relieved to note that none of the other diners had given them a second glance.