"Oh yes." Well she'd got that right, anyway, Kenna though hysterically. Maybe that should be her new nickname for him. Hung Hughes.
Hung, drawn and quartered maybe. Kenna shut her eyes as a horrible wave of pain washed over her. Would she ever be able to think about him, hear him, or see him without this intense sense of despair washing over her? The feeling of failure, of non-closure, and 'what if?'
Well 'what if' was about as much use as a chocolate fireguard.
The shouts and yells rose to ear ringing levels and Kenna opened her eyes to see the familiar figure of her husband, plus guitar, appear on the stage in front of her.
Her husband? What on earth was she thinking? He was no more her husband than he was the chanting woman next to her. A bit of paper, a diamond ring, and two nights in a secluded villa on a private estate in Barbados didn't make him a husband, or their time together a marriage.
Chapter Three
"That was a great gig, Nic. You were on fire, and I've never heard your voice sound smoother, richer, deeper…"
"No need to go over the top," Nico interrupted her litany. "You and El were no slouches. We all rocked."
"We did, but you? Well, best you've been for ages. Ever since…" Ramona didn't finish her sentence but kissed him on the cheek. "Okay, I'll shut up but anyway, fab, fab, and fab." She giggled and swung around in a circle, overbalanced and grabbed Nico's arm. "Damn, I'm drunk on success. Last night of the tour before we go 'darn sarf' and hit the smoke. What say we go back to the hotel and indulge in…" She winked. "A cuppa and a stottie." Ramona had got the taste for the Newcastle bread rolls called stotties on a previous tour and had them all eating them whenever possible, usually late at night. The bloody things were calorie filled.
"Champagne," Nico said. Ramona gasped theatrically. Nico never drank alcohol on tour.
He grinned. "For this once. We've two weeks off and I'm going to relax." He stretched his arms high, knowing that the sight of his torso did nothing for his sisters, unless they could tell him he was getting flabby, and his six pack had dropped to a two. This far into a tour there was no chance of that. Six months of being on the road with only a few days respite here and there negated any possibility of flab or fat. It was more likely to be a case of trying to keep the weight on.
"What time's your flight?" Ella asked as she pulled on a ratty sweatshirt over her shirt. "Are you going commercial?"
It always amazed Nico that Ella could shed her stage persona in seconds, and become his little sister once more. She could also eat anything and not put on a pound. That annoyed Ramona, who said if she even looked at a calorie filled anything the calories jumped onto her hips.
Kenna said that as well. Nico groaned. Why was Kenna uppermost in his mind, tonight of all nights, in Newcastle and not when they were in Edinburgh, her home town, or Glasgow, where they'd first met? In both of those towns he hadn't had the strange itch down his spine he'd had tonight. In a town that held no memories of her, or them. Weird or what?
He mentally shook his head and gave his attention to Ella, as Ramona joined them in skinny jeans and trainers. Both women always said they needed to know they could run if necessary. So far it hadn't been necessary, but there had been a few close shaves over the tour.
"Of course it's a commercial flight." Nico had no truck for private jets just for him. On tour abroad with a full entourage yes, but just him, jetting off on holiday? Not a chance. "I'm flying down to Gatwick first thing and then getting the usual plane." Or not. He couldn't account for his ornery mood. Snap out of it, of course you'll be on the plane. "This time tomorrow, I'll be sitting on the veranda with a mojito, and contemplating what’s next."
"And what is next?" Ramona asked as they walked along the corridor to the stage door.
"Damned if I know, except running the gauntlet and then champagne. And a big juicy steak."
"In a stottie."
He laughed. "Yeah in a stottie." They reached the stage door. "Okay girls, three minutes smiling and signing and then get ready to run."
He stepped out into the street and began his usual routine.
****
"Eeh, look, it's him. C'mon." Sam, now it seemed Kenna's new best friend, dragged Kenna by the arm and used both their elbows to push and shove their way to the front of the cordon.
"Let me mate through, will you? She's preggers and I divna want her to faint, like, without seeing Hughes. Eh pet?" Sam's voice was pure Geordie.
She nudged Kenna who smiled weakly. "Yes."
Sam glared.
Kenna swallowed and tried again. "Eeh I'm excited." She hoped her abysmal attempt at a Geordie accent would go unremarked. Sam nodded her approval.
After finding Kenna was alone, and indeed had taken the ticket that Sam's husband couldn't use—"He's a medic who works offshore and got called back early"—Sam had insisted they pal up. She was gregarious, chatty and happy to share wine, sweeties, and life stories. Kenna found it difficult to get a word in edgeways, and when she did, had just said she was separated from her husband and it was too painful to discuss it. Sam had hugged her, remarked some men were bastards and Hughes would take her mind off the shyster.
Luckily at that moment the second half of the concert started and Sam turned her attention to the stage.
To the shyster. What a furor it would cause if Kenna told the other woman just who the shyster was. Kenna had no intention of opening up, or destroying Sam's illusions.
Sam scuppered Kenna's intention of leaving in the interval, and if she was honest, her need just to see Nico, to look her fill and know he had no idea she was there, was better served by stopping.
She was a glutton for punishment, that was for sure. Kenna couldn't take her eyes off the distant figure dressed in his customary black, with a long silver chain tucked under the neckband of his t-shirt.
While she knew it was long, she doubted anyone else did. It had been her wedding present to him, when he said he couldn't…or was that wouldn't? wear a wedding ring.
Even though in some strange way she enjoyed the gig, nevertheless, as the stage emptied, Kenna grabbed her things and stood up ready to make a swift getaway. Three hours and two encores were enough to make her desperate to go and nurse all those re-remembered hurts.
Sam grabbed her arm. "You cannot go yet. There's another encore, he always does three. Look, here he comes back now." She bounced up and down clapping and whistling, as Nico strode back on stage and fastened on his guitar. Short of creating a ruckus, Kenna was stuck.
Five minutes later she was shell shocked and wanted to go somewhere alone, and wonder. Sam was having none of it.
"That was awesome, just him all by himself, eh? I wonder who the Kenna he sang about was? And regrets and stuff. Pity you're Jenna, not Kenna."
"Yeah. True enough. Ah well." Kenna blessed the fact her new friend had heard her name wrongly.
"You could pretend it was you, but then you'd have been a right divvy, to let him go."
Divvy? Kenna searched her brain. She almost asked Sam if she was calling her an idiot before she remembered Sam wasn't actually talking about her.
"Well it sounded like he thought he was the divvy," Kenna said as Sam tugged her out of the theatre and into a side street.
"Nah, never," Sam said loyally. "This way, come on."
In truth Kenna had been happy for Sam's support, and had been going to say thanks for a great evening and goodbye. Until Sam announced they were going to the stage door.
Kenna had protested. Said she had to go. Pleaded fatigue, beriberi and pure fright. Sam was having nothing of it.
'Ha'way we're going. Dinna talk shite."
When Kenna had held back she'd turned big, piteous eyes on her. "It's my only chance. Don would tell me the toon's more important." The Toon was the local football club. "Well sometimes it is, but not if I can get Hughes's autograph. Hey, he might sign my arm."
After that, what else could Kenna do other than go along with it? At least Sam hadn't wondered
if he'd sign her boobs. Kenna knew if that had been the request, he would have politely declined.
However saying okay and being pushed to the front of the crowd were two very different things.
"Ha'way, let me mate in." Sam had used her elbows to carve a track through the five deep crowd. "She's preggers," she announced for the third, or was it the fourth time, "and I divna want it to pop out on the pavement."
"Sam, this is so not a good idea," Kenna hissed. "I don't look pregnant."
Sam rolled her eyes and patted Kenna's tummy. "Bless her she's a good wee bairn to be. Shove your stomach out and groan that'll do." She hissed the last sentence and the look she shot Kenna would have felled lumberjacks at fifty paces.
Kenna did her best, but never having been pregnant her attempts at a waddle were met by Sam's rolling eyes.
"Ha'way, not very good. You look more like a constipated swan."
Constipated swan? "Sorry, all new to me." Kenna apologized. "I've never been pregnant." If I had it would have been a miracle.
Sam snickered. "Never mind, I have. Just follow me."
And heaven help her Kenna did.
Chapter Four
Nico smiled without even thinking about it as the waves of noise hit him like a blast. Sometimes he still had to pinch himself, to accept this was all for him. It had been a whirlwind few years, in more ways than one. Some of those ways he preferred not to think about, others try as he might he couldn't get out of his mind.
Like Kenna. At first he'd been incredulous that she'd gone. Okay, he'd walked out and not communicated for a week, true. But he'd used the rationale that he was letting her get over her snit. When she hadn't replied to his emails or picked up his phone calls he was pissed. Then when he finally went back—guiltily he accepted it had been another three weeks—and he found she'd been true to her words and left, he'd tried to get pissed. However, he was a lightweight and two pints of beer or glasses of wine was more than enough, and he always switched to water.
That bloody itch is back.
He waved in the general direction of the crowds of people who had waited to see them leave the theatre, took the nearest pen and paper and scribbled his name. Behind him he heard Ramona's deep-throated giggle and Ella's lighter laugh. His sisters worked the crowds so well, chatting and posing for photos easily. Always a private person, he found it harder. However, Nico didn't begrudge these moments. If people waited in all weathers to see him, then the least he could do was stop and chat a while. He signed programs, notebooks, and a t-shirt or two. He posed for photos, and answered the odd question he could hear, and kept one eye on the time, his sisters and the car, which waited, engine ticking over and doors open.
"Hughes, oy, Hughes, man. Sign my arm will you?" A shrill female voice floated over the rest, and a tanned arm was shoved under his nose. "I cannot find a pen or paper."
Nico smiled and peered in the direction of the voice. "I haven't got a pen, sorry." He raised his voice. "Anyone got a pen I can borrow?" Several hands thrust pens, pencils and felt tips in his direction. He took one with a word of thanks and scribbled his name on the offered arm.
"Eeh, thank you. Jenna, Jenna man, go on get him to sign yours." The voice showed no sign of losing its shrill tones. It was enough to set his nerves on edge, but he could tell it was normal and not put on. Someone would have a permanent headache listening to that all day.
"Me mate, she's preggers, and shy."
Nico laughed. "No worries, I'll sign if she wants and not if she doesn't."
"Course she does, don't you, pet?" There was the sound of a whispered argument. Intrigued, Nico ignored Ramona's wave to tell him it was time to get in the car.
"Sam, no it's fine, honestly. Look, I need to go."
He recognized the voice.
"Kenna?"
Someone must have pushed her in the back, because Kenna hit the barriers like a cork out of a bottle, and rocked on her heels.
Kenna? Pregnant? She better not be. Without really thinking what he was doing, Nico lifted her over the barrier and into his arms. Behind them her friend of the autographed arm stood with her mouth open.
"Put me down, you bastard." Kenna struggled and he increased his grip. "What are you on?"
"Wave to your friend now, there's a good girl. Tell her you'll phone her in the morning. You feel faint or something."
"Fuck off."
"That'll do." He didn't wait to hear anything else. Instead Nico turned to one of the security men. "The lady feels faint, we'll get her out of the crush. Tell her friend she'll ring her in the morning."
"I don't know her bloody phone number, we haven't got that far."
"Get her phone number will you, Den?" Nico asked the nearest security man as he turned away and strode to the car. He winced as Kenna dug her nails into his ass. Yeah, she still had claws.
"Keep that up, babe, and I'll think you want a bit of rough."
"Keep this up and I'll report you for assault or abduction or…or… put me the hell down. Now."
He would never have thought you could put so much vehement emotion in a hiss.
"Certainly." He ducked his head, dropped her onto the back seat of the limo next to a wide-eyed Ella and sat down beside her. One of the security men slammed the door and the car moved smoothly away from the curb.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Kenna pushed her specs up her nose, then batted his hand away from her waist, and tugged her jumper down over her hips. "Where's my bag?"
"Here." He tossed the bag she'd dropped as he shoved her into the car, onto her lap. "And I'm doing up your seatbelt. It's against the law not to belt up."
"Then why don't you? Belt up, and bugger off. It's also against the law to abduct people, but that didn't bother you, did it?"
Nico sat back and grinned at the red-faced furious woman next to him. Behind her Ella rolled her eyes, and Ramona, who had moved to one of the seats opposite, put her hand over her mouth.
"Are you struggling?" he asked her in a mild and deceptively innocent tone. One she should know and be wary of. "Fighting against your so-called capture?"
Ramona sniggered. Ella rolled her eyes.
Nico never saw Kenna's hand move, but he sure felt her fist on his jaw.
****
"Shit, that hurt." Kenna nursed her bruised hand. "Your jaw is bloody hard."
"Should have aimed elsewhere." He rubbed his chin. "If you had I'd never be able to father our future offspring. By the way how far along are you with this one?"
"Our what? Argh…. Don't tempt me. What are you playing at?" She flexed her fingers and held one hand in the other. "You know there's no bloody baby. That was Sam and her attempts to bypass the crowds and get her idol to sign her arm. I know men think with their gonads but lord, I thought you had a bit more about you, and accept that unless I was an elephant I couldn't be pregnant. Actually come to think of it not even then. Sheesh, you are an idiot grabbing me like that. What on earth are people going to think?"
Nico shrugged, and inwardly high fived. There wasn't anyone else. "You're a groupie? That would be novel and keep the gossip columns in fodder for months." He'd never ever been known to have anyone travel with him. "No idea and they're irrelevant anyway. We need to talk so what better way to get your undivided attention?"
Ramona coughed. "Er hello… we're here. Undivided with an interested audience who won't take sides. Well unless it's Kenna's. Women united and all that."
"Shut up." Kenna and Nico chorused the words at the same time. Ramona stuck her tongue out seeming not a whit offended.
"I was just saying."
Kenna swiveled around in her seat. "So then you can be witnesses. The silent type. And make notes, the first of which is, I want out of this car now."
"We're in the middle of Newcastle. I can't just let you out. How would you get back to where you're stopping?" Nico said in her ear. "You need me."
"Like a hole in the head. And although it may be beneath you, have you ever heard
of Shank's Pony?"
"Don't talk stupid, you can't walk around the city center at midnight. It's not safe." He sounded more than pissed.
Kenna ignored him. "Will you please tell your driver to go here?” She addressed herself to Ramona, and handed over a business card.
Ramona glanced at it and looked amused. "Sure." She opened the privacy glass and passed the card over. "Here you go Stan." She shut the glass and turned back to Kenna. "So how have you been?"
On Kenna's other side, Nico grunted. Kenna ignored him. "Fine, busy and happy. Not enough hours in the day to get everything done, but that's fine. Better than being bored."
"What are you doing?" Nico sounded as if it half killed him to be polite and ask, not demand. "Where are you living?"
"Being busy and in my home," Kenna answered politely. She looked out of the car window and breathed a sigh of relief. "Ah we're here. I won't say it was nice to meet you, but I guess I will say thank you for the lift." Except I'll need to go and get my car in the morning. It was in a car park in the center of town. "I hope I haven't taken you too far out of your way."
"Not at all."
Why did he sound amused? And smug? "Hold on, where's the car going? The door is back there." The car had driven past the imposing portico door of the country house hotel Kenna had chosen to stop in, and was following a driveway around the building. "What the fuck?"
"The front door is back there," Nico said in an amused tone. "So are the fans. This is the way to the tradesman's entrance. We'll go in that way along with the cans of beans and sides of bacon."
"Man, don't, you're making me hungry," Ramona said plaintively. "That stottie is looming large in my mind."
The thought of food made Kenna's tummy rumble, but Nico's words replayed in her mind and she ignored the state of her tummy.
"What fans?"
"Eh?" He made sure he sounded totally disinterested. "Oh, ours. There's always some around when we get back. I thought you'd prefer to miss them. We do until we've at least had a chance to wash up."
The Rock Star's Wife Page 2