In His Place: Sonic Idols Book #2

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In His Place: Sonic Idols Book #2 Page 5

by Lisa J. Hobman


  Allie let me go and wiped at her eyes. “Come in, come in,â€� she said as she stepped aside, tugging my sleeve.

  I smiled nervously and walked into the small lounge of her cottage. “This is a cute place.â€�

  She gestured to the sofa. “Have a seat, please.â€� I did, and she sat opposite me on the other two seater, leaning forward eagerly.

  Her gaze didn’t leave my face. “It’s rented but I do love it here. Great for painting.â€�

  Nerves were getting the better of me and I began to tap and drum my fingers on the armrest. “I can imagine. Very inspirational.â€� I glanced around my surroundings, looking for hints as to whether she was married or living with someone.

  She laughed quietly. “You’re such a typical drummer. Just like Joe.â€�

  I stopped tapping and cringed. “Sorry. Nerves.â€�

  “I’m so glad you’re here.â€� Her voice wobbled a little and that brought my attention back to her. She looked great. Her once long auburn hair was now shoulder length and in a choppy kind of style. Her make-up free face was fresh and she looked so healthy. Clearly the Scottish air of home agreed with her.

  She carried on talking, seeing as I had apparently lost the ability to form a decent sentence. “So, what brings a famous rock star to the Scottish Borders?â€�

  I scratched the back of my neck. “The band’s taking a bit of a hiatus from touring just now and I had some free time…so…â€�

  She cringed. “Oh, God. Yes, I heard. Is Nick okay? I’ve tried to find out but things have seemingly been put on lockdown. That’s not why you’re here, is it?â€� Her eyes widened and I was a little confused. Her hand came up to her mouth. “He’s not… he’s not dead or anything, is he?â€�

  Whoops! I held up my hands. “Nick? No. No, nothing like that. I think he just got to the point where he had to take a break. The band’s been touring pretty much non-stop for five years and I think it just took its toll.â€�

  She heaved a huge relieved sigh. “Thank goodness. I was really worried for a minute there.â€�

  “Nah. No need. I reckon we’ll be back on the road before we know it.â€� I noted the hope in my own voice.

  I watched as she fiddled with the towel still gripped in her hand. “So, what does bring you here, Si?â€�

  I inhaled deeply, vying for time to form what I wanted to say. As usual, I failed. “Look, I’ve been on the road ages today and I’m parched. Any chance of a brew?â€�

  She smiled warmly. “Sure. I’ll put the kettle on. Come keep me company?â€�

  I followed Allie through to the kitchen at the back of the little cottage, and again, assessed my surroundings. Through the window I could see nothing but countryside from the small hedge that skirted the garden. A clump of trees stood swaying in the distance, and beyond that, a range of hills rose from the horizon.

  “You’ve got a great view, Allie.â€�

  She came to stand beside me as the kettle began to hiss. “You see those trees? There’s a family of deer that plays around out there at dusk. I’ve taken some fantastic photos of them.â€�

  “Ah. So, you’re a photographer now too?â€� I remember her always being very creative. She made her own clothes, designed fabrics, and painted when I knew her before.

  I glanced to find her cheeks had tinted pink. “I wouldn’t call myself a photographer. I mean, I dabble, but nothing serious.â€� Modest as ever.

  Taking the bull by the horns, I blurted out without really thinking, “Allie, I came to say I’m sorry. That’s the reason I’m here. I’m so, so fucking sorry for everything. It should have been said a long time ago but…â€� I shook my head.

  She turned to face me, a mask of confusion now in place. “Sorry? I don’t understand, Si. What do you have to be sorry about?â€�

  I lowered my chin and closed my eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there on the night he died. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him making that stupid decision. And I’m sorry for not being there for you in the days before the funeral. I was a total bastard to you back then. I should’ve offered more support. Huh, who am I kidding? I should’ve offered some support. That would’ve been a start. Instead, I let you deal with all that shit on your own. He was my brother, and the only other person who really knew how I felt, apart from my folks, was you. I failed you, Allie. And I’m so, so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.â€�

  When I lifted my head again to look at her, tears were trickling down her face, leaving glistening trails on her skin.

  Her lip trembled. “You’re wrong, Si. It was me who failed you. I should’ve been there that night. He was my fiancé. I should’ve been the one to stop him from being an idiot. I lived with him, for goodness sake.â€�

  I turned towards her, shook my head, and placed my hands on her arms. “You know, I thought for all these years that you must hate me for all the same reasons. I wanted to talk to you but I couldn’t face you after his death. Too much guilt. I was scared you’d tell me what I was thinking was true, and hearing it directly from your lips would’ve crushed me. I only found out last night how you truly felt. My mum told me you thought I blamed you and I was so shocked. So I came straight here as soon as I could. I was horrified that you could even think I’d be angry with you, Allie. I’ve never blamed you. I’ve only ever blamed myself.â€�

  A sob broke free from her chest and she collapsed into me. I pulled her into my arms and let her cry as I stroked her hair. She released all the pent-up sadness she had been carrying around for the years since Joe’s death, and I just held her. It was a battle to stop my own tears from falling but I had to remain strong. We’d both been through hell and needed each other but hadn’t dared to ask. I was angry at myself. Bitterly fucking angry. Joe would’ve been so damned disappointed in me and that hurt like hell.

  She eventually pulled away and wiped at her damp face. “Ugh. I’m sorry, Si. You didn’t need that. Anyway, I don’t know about you but I feel like coffee just won’t cut it right now. Fancy something stronger?â€�

  Her words were music to my ears and I laughed lightly. “Yeah, whatever you’ve got. I’m having a gazillion different emotions right now and I think this is one of the times when only alcohol will suffice.â€�

  She walked over to her wine rack and grabbed a bottle from it. “Rioja okay?â€� I nodded, and she grabbed two glasses from a cupboard. I made my way back through to the lounge with Allie close behind me.

  I watched as she opened the wine with shaking hands and poured two full glasses. She handed me one and picked her own up. “Cheers.â€�

  “Cheers,â€� I replied, before taking a few gulps of the red liquid. The slight acidic tang made my mouth water. I knew nothing about wine but I liked this one.

  “So, what’s been going on in your life, Si? It’s been so long.â€�

  I shook my head. “Oh, you know… touring, playing, recording… touring some more.â€�

  “Ah, the hectic life of a rock star, eh?â€�

  I chuckled. “Yeah, something like that. There’s nothing else to tell really. You probably know more about me than I do if you read the newspapers.â€�

  She raised her eyebrows. “Hmm, yes. I heard that you’re gay now and living with that guy from that other band… I forget the name.â€�

  I rolled my eyes. “Jeez, that one made me laugh. You go for one night out with another band and you’re photographed speaking directly into someone’s ear because of the loud music in the club, and all of a sudden two and two make f
ive.�

  She laughed heartily. “I must say, it was a shock. Can I take the revelations as falsehood then?â€�

  “You can take it as utter bollocks. He’s a great guy and I have no problem with people thinking I’m gay, but his boyfriend is built like a fucking out-house and I’d rather not get on his bad side.â€�

  We laughed for a while about how the tabloids had made up stories where there were none.

  She wagged a finger at me. “Oh, that was a good one about Nick and his hair. I bet that brand of shampoo has rocketed lately.â€�

  “Yeah. I was once asked what product I use. I think I told them camel snot or something like that.â€�

  She burst out laughing. “You didn’t?â€�

  “I did. It stopped them from writing a bloody article about me and my hair care routine anyway.â€�

  “Ah, yes. Good point.â€� She raised her eyebrows. “And I have to say, there have been lots of photos of you with random women too.â€�

  My stomach twinged with shame and my face became warmer. “Hmm. The paparazzi always seem to be at the ready to mark me as a womaniser.â€�

  She tilted her head and eyed me with suspicion. “So… no long-term girlfriends or wives in your life yet?â€�

  I huffed and took another gulp. “Me? Nah. The chance would be a fine thing. No bloody spare time to fit a relationship in. What about you?â€� I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer seeing as she had been my brother’s girlfriend, and the thought of her with someone else just felt weird.

  She laughed. “No girlfriends or wives, that’s for sure.â€� Then her smile disappeared. “But in all honesty, no. There’s been no-one. Friends have tried to set me up with guys and one even tried to get me to register on that Made For Each Other dating site but I just haven’t wanted to.â€� She dropped her gaze to her wine glass. “No one has compared to Joe.â€�

  I knew exactly how she felt. He was pretty irreplaceable. Although, maybe therein lay the problem. Comparing one person to another probably wasn’t the best way to find love. But how the hell would I know?

  As if snapping herself out of a trance, she sat bolt upright. “Hey, I found some old photos a short while ago. I sent one to your mum. It was so good to look back… but so hard at the same time, you know?â€�

  I nodded and took another mouthful of my nectar-like drink. “I’d love to see. If they’re to hand, that is. Don’t go clambering in to the loft or anything.â€�

  Before I finished my sentence, she was on her feet and disappeared upstairs. She returned a few moments later with a shoe box. “Tadaaaaa!â€�

  I lowered myself to the floor and she joined me. “Prepare to be totally embarrassed. There are some great ones of you in here.â€�

  I laughed and shook my head. “I spend my life embarrassed, Allie. I doubt you could make things worse.â€�

  She grinned. “Just you wait.â€�

  Chapter 7

  Si

  *

  Three bottles of wine were almost done but the trip down memory lane was far from over.

  I laughed hysterically as Allie passed me another photograph. “Fuck! Look at my cheesy grin on that one. And what’s with the hair?â€�

  She rested her head on my shoulder as she looked at the image I held. “Aww, you look so cute. It’s the way you’re grinning up at Joe that gets me every time. Your face… so sweet.â€�

  “Yeah. I worshipped him. He was so… good with me. And with my mates too. He never seemed to get fed up of me hanging around.â€�

  “That’s because he worshipped you right back,â€� she whispered. “He missed you like crazy, you know, when we moved to London. He was forever looking over his shoulder as if he expected you to show up. I’ve never known brothers who were so close. You may as well have been twins.â€�

  “Except we looked nothing alike.â€�

  She lifted her head and regarded me. “You look just like him now. Your features are the same. Same eyes, same nose, same mouth.â€�

  I smiled. “Same beard.â€�

  “Ah, well, that was why I didn’t recognise you straight away, standing there on my doorstep all manly like. You were very… smooth when I last saw you.â€� She pointed at me, wine glass in hand, and almost sloshed her drink on the floor. “Whoops!â€�

  I couldn’t help laughing. “I was smooth? I hope you mean my skin and not my pick-up tactics.â€� Okay, so the wine’s going to my head a bit now too…

  “I wouldn’t know about that. I only had eyes for Joe…â€� Her words trailed off and she took another large drink of her Rioja. “Ooh. Top up needed.â€� She scrambled to her feet and went to grab a fourth bottle from the kitchen. I knew we’d both regret this in the morning but I made no attempts to stop her.

  Rifling through the box, I came across a photo I had never seen before. It appeared to have been taken around the same time as the one Allie had sent to my mum—roughly six months before Joe died. As I stared at the image, the occasion came drifting back. We were in the back garden at my house. Joe and Nick were playing a version of Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Aliveâ€�—Nick on Joe’s scratty old acoustic guitar and Joe tapping on an upturned bucket like a bongo. Allie was watching Joe, of course, from where she sat on a low-slung branch of the apple tree, her hair scooped around over one shoulder and glinting red in the sunlight. What concerned me was the expression on my face. I had been snapped with my eyes transfixed on her. But the way I was looking at her was disconcerting.

  I looked head over heels in love.

  She appeared from the kitchen and took her place on the floor beside me again. “Ah… you found that one. I meant to hide it away to save your embarrassment.â€� She nudged my shoulder with hers.

  How the fuck do I play this? “My embarrassment?â€� Okay, so feigning ignorance it is then.

  She took a drink from her freshly topped up glass and nodded slowly. “Joe said you fancied me. That you had a huge crush on me.â€� She playfully held the word ‘huge’ on for longer than necessary and her words slurred slightly. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve found that amusing, but not on this occasion.

  I scrunched my face and threw the photo down so it skimmed across the table and fell out of sight. “What? I hope you ignored him. Jeez, he was a bloody wind-up merchant that guy.â€� I shook my head vehemently and reached for my glass. I finished off the contents in one go and topped my glass up again to the brim.

  She placed a hand gently on my arm. “Si, it’s fine. Kids get crushes. It’s not like you’re in love with me now, for goodness sake. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.â€�

  Oh, God. If you only knew the truth.

  I couldn’t look her in the eye. “Pfft. Ashamed? Why would I be ashamed? It’s bollocks. I hope you know it’s bollocks?â€� Okay stop protesting, you dick. Let it go.

  She fell silent and stared into her glass for a few moments.

  I was just about to say something to fill the quiet void when she spoke. “I miss him so much. The way he used to look at me. The way he made me feel… the way he loved me.â€�

  I watched as tears cascaded into her wine glass and the urge to comfort her was too strong to fight. “Hey, come on. Don’t cry.â€� I took her glass from her hand and placed it alongside mine on the coffee table. “Maybe we’ve had enough wine, eh?â€�

  She lifted her face and the pain in her eyes would have floored me if I hadn’t been sitting down there.

  She wiped at her eyes. “Why did he have to die and leave me all alone? Why did he have to be so stupi
d and try drugs? Was being with me not enough? Was I not exciting enough for him?� Once again, she lowered her gaze as more tears came.

  In my alcohol-addled brain, I knew they were rhetorical questions. Questions she had no doubt asked herself many times before. And still I felt compelled to answer.

  I tilted her chin up with my finger. “Hey. Stop that, Allie. You were perfect for him and he adored you. We all did. What happened that night was nothing to do with you. He made a stupid mistake. We all make them. But it’s not a reflection on how he felt about you, you hear me?â€�

  I wanted to convince her although I knew my words would do little to alleviate the agony she still carried inside. But as I sat there and thought about the conversation we’d had moments before—the one where I had tried to shrug off my adoring gaze in the photo—all the feelings I’d kept locked deep inside for years began to bubble to the surface. Feelings I had almost forgotten. Feelings I had desperately tried to ignore and hide.

  I was drunk and I should’ve stopped. I should’ve got up and walked away. I should’ve called my driver to pick me up.

  “Allie, you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. You’re funny, intelligent, and talented. It’s so obvious why Joe loved you so much. I totally understand why he wanted to be with you every moment of every day.â€� Stop it, Si. She doesn’t need this. Stop talking. You’re drunk and she’s broken-hearted. My heart pounded at my chest, playing its very own drum solo, and my breathing rate increased. Adrenaline or alcohol—I wasn’t sure which—coursed through my veins and emboldened me. “I mean, look at you. You’re so, so beautiful. Who wouldn’t be crazy about you?â€�

  She gasped and I should’ve taken that as my cue to leave, but I didn’t. Instead, I lowered my face until my mouth hovered dangerously close to hers and I closed my eyes. Just one kiss for comfort. One light kiss. One friend to another. That’s all.

 

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