Shattered Hearts

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Shattered Hearts Page 11

by Coral McCallum


  “We’ve been fighting with track seven on the board all day,” replied Lee candidly. “I think he’s stumbled onto something here thanks to your daughter.”

  “This I need to hear,” declared Jake, turning his attention to the window through to the studio.

  From his seat in the cramped control room, Jake watched as Garrett talked Melody through what he wanted her to play. He listened as the older musician ran through his part, showing the little girl where he wanted her to start playing.

  “Ready when you are, Jim,” called through Garrett. “Keep recording until I give you the nod.”

  “Got it,” called back Dr Marrs as he indicated to Lee that they were ready to resume.

  With his heart swelling with pride, Jake watched Melody as she focussed her attention on Garrett and the unfamiliar guitar she was holding. Silently, the older musician counted her in and she played her part perfectly. It had a simple nursery rhyme feel to it. The same sequence was reprised twice more during the instrumental.

  “And here we have it, gentlemen,” declared Garrett after the first attempt. “Raw, real, live and perfect.”

  “In the can,” agreed Dr Marrs with a relieved sigh. “Miss Power, I wish you’d been here about six hours earlier. Thank you, honey. You are a star.”

  The little girl’s musical giggles echoed through the speakers.

  “You still recording, Jim?” called out Garrett as he sat the guitar on a stand.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. We can use that giggle at the end. Love it!” declared the older musician. “Come on, Miss Power, let’s negotiate your fee with your dad.”

  As Jake stepped back out into the lounge, Garrett emerged from the live room hand in hand with Melody. When she saw her daddy, the little girl let go of Garrett’s hand and ran straight into Jake’s arms.

  “I’m going to be on Garrett’s new record!”

  “So I heard, Miss M,” said Jake, swinging her up into his arms. “Told you that you were after my job.”

  The little girl giggled as she hugged him tight.

  “Thanks for that, Jake,” said Garrett warmly. “Melody here was the inspiration I’ve been searching for all day.”

  “Glad she could help,” said Jake. “Been a long day?”

  The older musician nodded, “We’ve still a fair bit to do. Should be done on schedule though.”

  “You done for the day?” asked Jake.

  Garrett nodded, “I think so.”

  “Want to come over for dinner?”

  “Please, Garrett,” pleaded Melody.

  “I don’t want to impose,” began the older man hesitantly.

  “We’re having steak sandwiches,” declared Melody brightly.

  “Lori’ll be glad to see you,” added Jake warmly.

  “I’d love to,” accepted Garrett, smiling down at the little girl. “We can discuss Melody’s fee over dinner.”

  “She’ll take five per cent,” joked Jake mischievously. “Or, if that’s too steep, you could buy ice cream for dessert while I get the sandwiches.”

  “With extra rainbow sprinkles,” added Melody.

  “Deal.”

  By the time Jake and Melody arrived back at the beach house, with Garrett close behind them, Lori had set the picnic table for dinner out on the deck and made a jug of lemonade. Having hugged their guest then stowed the ice cream that he’d brought in the freezer, she joined the others outside. Delighted to have his daddy home, Jesse had clambered onto Jake’s knee while Melody was happily sitting beside Garrett. While they ate, the little girl told her mother all about recording in the studio.

  “We’ll need to watch our backs,” joked Garrett between mouthfuls of sandwich. “This young lady has talent.”

  “She’s got a good teacher,” said Lori with a wink towards her husband. “And she practices regularly.”

  “Speaking of teaching,” began Garrett. “What’s this I hear that you are going back into the classroom? I thought Silver Lake were booked into JJL to record.”

  Nodding, Jake said, “I start a two-week summer school workshop on Monday. Rich had committed to it. I didn’t want to let the kids or the school down.”

  “How many students?”

  “Ten, I believe,” replied Jake. “I’ve a plan worked out. We’ll be out at JJL for a couple of days during the second week if you fancy helping out.”

  “I could be persuaded I suppose. What’s the plan?”

  “First couple of days will be music tuition then some songwriting. I plan to pair them up for an assignment to write a song. Week two they’ll rehearse it then record it. End game is to have some tracks for a CD that the school can sell to raise funds.”

  “Sounds fun. Count me in,” said Garrett then added, “What about the Silver Lake stuff?”

  “Too soon,” stated Jake quickly, too quickly. “We’ve not talked about the future much yet.”

  “Don’t leave it too long,” cautioned the older musician wisely. “I was talking to Jethro. He says there’s to be a memorial show next month.”

  “Did he? That’s still to be agreed too.”

  “Garrett’s right,” said Lori softly. “You guys need to talk and agree a plan.”

  “I guess,” sighed Jake then, changing the subject, asked, “Who’s ready for ice cream?”

  “Me!” cried Melody and Jesse in unison.

  After dinner, Jake suggested to Garrett that they take a walk along the beach with the kids. The sun was just setting on the horizon and the beach was virtually deserted. Along the waterline, as they walked towards the bathhouse, an occasional lone fisherman stood watching his line. As the kids ran on ahead, Jake said, “Can I ask your opinion on something?”

  “Sure,” replied Garrett, sensing the younger man’s emotional turmoil.

  “Should we keep Silver Lake going?”

  “Do you want to?”

  “Sometimes I think so and then I try to visualise standing on stage playing Silver Lake songs without Rich to my left and I’m not so sure,” confessed Jake.

  “What would Rich do?” asked Garrett, playing Devil’s advocate. “Would he have kept the band going without you if the roles were reversed?”

  “Probably,” answered Jake after a few moments of reflection. “He loved to play. Loved the band. He lived for the live shows. I think playing took away some of his pain. Quietened the demons.”

  They walked on in silence for another minute or two then Jake called the kids back, telling them to run for home.

  “Trying to wear them out,” he said with a wink as Jesse ran between them spraying sand everywhere. “That kid’s going to be awesome at track when he’s older.”

  “He sure is,” laughed Garrett. “Jake, can I make a suggestion? Set up the memorial show. Play all Rich’s favourite songs to play live. Invite a few guest musicians along. Have fun. Celebrate his life then sit down as a band and talk about the future.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” sighed Jake, scuffing his barefoot in the sand in frustration.

  As the white fence in front of the beach house came into sight, Garrett said, “Jake, can I confide in you? And this goes no further.”

  Jake nodded.

  “When Royal Court came to an end, I almost never played again. I played piano mainly with Andrew. We ended the band because I couldn’t cope with his drug habit. He became too unpredictable latterly. Dangerous. Manic one minute. Suicidal the next. Live shows became a minefield. Our fans thought it was part of the act. It wasn’t.” Garrett paused, “The last show we played, I came out on stage for the encore. Sat at the piano. Played my heart out then as we reached the last chorus of the song, Andrew broke a string. He flipped. Slammed the lid down on the piano. Broke both my hands. I never touched a piano for the best part of twenty years after that. In fact, it was the lovely Ellen Lloyd and my nephew who convinced me to play again about five or six years ago.” He paused again. “The fact is, we ended Royal Court with no closure for the fans. Andrew died a coup
le of years later. There was nothing for the fans. Very little mention in the media about his death. It was kept quiet at the request of his family. The fans got nothing. No last goodbye. No memorial. Not even a post humus greatest hits record. I still feel we…well, I… let them down. I regret it. Your Silver Lakers put you where you are today. They’ve been with you guys for years and they’re hurting too. You owe it to them to give something back. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

  “When you put it like that….” began Jake falteringly. “Lucy said the fan page has been swamped with messages of condolence. I thought the video we put out and the interview I gave were enough. Maybe they’re not.”

  “Trust me, they’re not,” said the older man wisely. “Set up the show. You can thank me later.”

  “Ok. I’ll talk to the guys and Jethro and Maddison. We’ll give the fans their chance to say goodbye,” relented Jake, knowing in his heavy heart that it was the right decision.

  After Garrett left, Jake sat out on the deck in the dark on his own. He’d messaged Grey and Paul asking them to come over on Friday morning. Both of them had replied almost instantly; both of them sounded keen to talk about the way forward. When he checked the calendar on his phone, Jake realised that there were only five weeks till the band were due in JJL to start the next Silver Lake record. He’d been full of good intentions to write over the summer but, so far, he had nothing apart from one new melody line that he’d been playing with since the day after they heard about Rich.

  “Penny for them,” said Lori softly as she came to stand behind him.

  “They’re not worth it,” he replied as he gently pulled her round to sit on his lap.

  “How did it go with Debbie earlier?”

  “Lord, that seems like a lifetime ago,” sighed Jake. “It was fine. She’s a sweet girl. I dodged a few questions. Everyone wants to talk about when we’re going to play again.”

  “Folk just want their chance to empathise with you guys and pay their respects.”

  “I know. Grey and Paul are coming over on Friday. We’ll thrash it all out then.”

  Changing the subject, Lori commented, “Miss M is still super excited at having played for Garrett today. How did that all come about?”

  “To be honest, I’ve no idea,” confessed Jake, trying not to laugh. “I left her in the lounge with an apple juice, went to talk to Jim about the workshop sessions and came back and found her in the live room playing one of Garrett’s guitars. He’s delighted with her.”

  “Our own little Miss Rockstar,” giggled Lori as she rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Yeah, but let’s keep her as a little girl for as long as we can,” commented Jake. “No child prodigies. She’s a kid who plays a bit of guitar. That’s all. A regular little kid. Plus, she’s a whole lot more to learn.

  “I agree entirely.”

  Drawing his wife close, Jake cupped Lori’s breast in his hand and began to slowly fondle it. He smiled when he realised that she wasn’t wearing a bra. With everything that had happened recently, he felt he hadn’t paid Lori nearly enough attention. With a sigh, he drank in the aroma of her favourite perfume. Slowly, he moved to kiss her. As he raised his lips towards hers, Jake discovered that she’d read his mind and they met halfway. Their kiss was slow and deep, both of them refamiliarizing themselves with the other with a renewed passion.

  “I want to make love to you, li’l lady,” murmured Jake as he ran his tongue teasingly down her slender neck and into the curves of her cleavage.

  “I can tell,” giggled Lori, wholly aware of his erect dick straining at his jeans.

  Without waiting for her consent, Jake began to raise her strappy vest top over her head. Freed from the soft clingy top, Jake suckled each of her breasts in turn then slid his hands inside the waistband of her Indian cotton skirt. His thumbs hooked the waistband of her panties and he tugged both firmly down over her hips. In a pile of giggles, Lori shuffled about on his lap until he succeeded in liberating her clothing. Naked, she sat curled up in his lap.

  “Rock star,” she purred in his ear before biting the lobe. “You are wearing way too many clothes.”

  Giggling like two teenagers in the back seat of a car, Jake and Lori wriggled and squirmed until his t-shirt, jeans and white boxers lay on top of Lori’s clothes on the deck.

  “Well, we’re both naked, li’l lady,” teased Jake, his hazel eyes shimmering with lustful mischief. “Remind me how we do this again.”

  “Let’s try this,” whispered Lori as she manoeuvred herself round so that she was sitting with her back to his chest. Leaning back to allow Jake to nuzzle her neck, she reached down and guided his erect manhood to its destination. Placing her heels on the edge of the chair and her hands on the wooden arms, Lori slowly moved up and down, each stroke teasing both of them closer to orgasm.

  With his face buried in the exotic floral scent of her long golden blonde hair, Jake allowed her to control things for a few moments. Unable to hold back any longer, he cupped her breasts firmly then thrust his long erect dick deep into her soft wet feminine depths hard and fast. With a long low feral moan of pleasure, Lori allowed her orgasm to consume her as Jake filled her with his hot creamy load.”

  “Lord, I’ve missed you,” Jake groaned as he pulled her closer. “I love you, Mz Hyde.”

  “Love you too, rock star,” sighed Lori as she felt him slide out from within her. “Let’s take this inside and refresh our memories some more.”

  Scooping her up into his arms, Jake got easily to his feet and carried her through the house, praying that their kids were both asleep.

  With a crack of lightning, the heatwave that had hung over the Delaware Riviera broke mid-morning on Friday. That first sky splitting flash triggered the start of a monumental thunderstorm. As the rain lashed down in sheets, first Grey then Paul arrived, both of them soaked to the skin by the time they reached the back door of the beach house. While the two members of Silver Lake dried themselves off, Lori poured them both a coffee.

  “Jake’s downstairs,” she said as she set the two mugs on the table. “He’s been down there since the crack of dawn.”

  Nodding, Grey said, “Hopefully working out a plan the three of us can agree on.”

  “Not sure this is entirely about what the three of us want,” muttered Paul as he followed the band’s bass player out of the kitchen.

  The soft strains of an unfamiliar melody greeted the two musicians as they descended the steep stairs down into the basement.

  “Morning,” greeted Grey as he reached the last step.

  “Mornin’,” called back Jake without pausing his playing. “Hope you brought donuts.”

  “No,” replied the bass player, holding up a small square box. “Donut holes.”

  “What’s that you’re playing?” quizzed Paul as he sat down in his usual seat. “Like it.”

  “Just something I’m working on.”

  An awkward silence hung in the air before Grey said, “Ok, let’s get the fucking question out there. Do we continue with the band?”

  “Yes,” said both Jake and Paul in quick succession.

  “We sure?” checked Grey bluntly.

  “If it had been any one of us, Rich would’ve voted to play on,” said Jake calmly. “It won’t be easy but we need to find a way to make it work.”

  “And what about playing a memorial show?” asked Paul. “Maddison is hell-bent that it has to happen.”

  “It does,” stated Jake. “Whether we like it or not, the fans deserve their chance to pay their respects but we need to retain control over it. Personally, I don’t want to see it all turn into a circus.”

  “I agree,” nodded Grey. “Something small.”

  “What about the Ram’s Head in Baltimore?” suggested Paul, helping himself to more donut holes.

  “That’s where I was thinking,” agreed Jake. “Holds about fifteen hundred. It’s also free on August 30th.”

  “That’s not much time to get organ
ised,” observed Grey cautiously.

  “Exactly,” said Jake. “Let’s just do this live in the raw. Minimal rehearsal.”

  “I could be persuaded,” admitted Grey thoughtfully. “It’s high risk.”

  “No,” countered Jake. “It’s open and it's honest. If we can get it booked, we can get Lucy to put a message out on the fan page asking for ideas for the set. Let’s build this around what the fans want.”

  “And who fills in on guitar?” asked Paul hesitantly.

  “Million-dollar question,” sighed Jake, running his hand through his hair. “We’ve got Todd for a start. Garrett’s also offered to help. I’m sure Mikey will help if I ask. The guys from After Life could be up for it. Or, we just do it our own way. Just the three of us.”

  “We could do some acoustic stuff just the three of us,” mused Grey, thinking out loud. “Mr Power, this could actually work.”

  “Paul, call Maddy and see if she can secure the venue. We need that for a start,” suggested Jake.

  Two cups of coffee later, the three members of Silver Lake had a rough plan secured and, with Lori’s help, a short video message ready to release on social media. By lunchtime, Maddy had called Paul to confirm their booking at the Ram’s Head, adding that she had spoken to Jason Russell to secure permission for them to promote the show themselves as a fan-only event. Instead of tickets being on general sale, they would be available to purchase directly through the band’s own website with an access code obtained via email registration.

  “He’d be proud of us,” sighed Jake as the three of them headed upstairs for a late lunch.

  “I bet he’s having a good laugh at us,” growled Grey sourly. “I get it. I understand it. I even kind of get the why but the selfish bastard’s left us in the shit.”

  “Hey, that’s unfair,” challenged Paul immediately then paused, “But, I know what you mean.”

  “None of this is fair but it is what it is,” replied Jake philosophically. “We owe it to Rich to make him proud of us. I just hope he’s found the peace he was seeking.”

 

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