See You at the Show

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See You at the Show Page 6

by Michelle Betham

“Oh, yeah!” Jack grinned, snatching the camera from Mark. “New footage!”

  “Hey, hang on, give that here, Jack!”

  “Mark, it’s ok. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. If it keeps his tiny mind occupied for half an hour it’ll be worth it.” She pushed Mark up out of his seat, taking his hand. “Come on. Let’s go get that lie down. I need to get out of here.” She looked back at Jack, throwing him a sarcastic smile. “Oh, and enjoy the show, Warner. But you watch that right hand of yours. I know you get off on watching me fuck but don’t work it too hard, ok? You’re gonna need it tomorrow.”

  “Funny girl.”

  She gave him the finger.

  “Yeah, ladylike, Stevie. Very ladylike.”

  “There’s nothing ladylike about me, Jack. And your front man’s about to find out just how unladylike I can really be.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Daniel never tired of walking into the House of Commons. The grandeur and sheer scale of the building made it a place he never tired of coming to. As a student he’d dreamed of one day walking in here as a Member of Parliament, and now that part of his dream had been realised he was just waiting for the next stage to take shape.

  Andrew Mitchell still hadn’t yet tendered a formal resignation from his post as party leader, but the rumours were getting stronger every day that it was nothing more than a formality. It was going to happen. It was just a matter of waiting. Something Daniel was quite willing to do.

  He walked along the corridor on his way to his office, smiling and saying hello to people he knew - fellow MP’s, colleagues he worked closely with, and even those he didn’t. He was a very approachable man, much liked and greatly admired. Which is why he already had the backing he needed to run for the leadership. As soon as Andrew Mitchell stepped down.

  He walked into the annexe to his office, smiling at Amy, his secretary.

  “Good morning, Mr. Madison. Would you like your coffee now? I’ve put your newspapers on your desk and left some messages by the telephone. Some of them may be fairly urgent. Here’s your post.”

  He took the pile of envelopes from her and smiled again. “Thank you, Amy. I’d love a coffee now, if it’s no trouble.”

  “None at all.” She got up from behind her large and extremely tidy desk and went over to the small kitchenette in the corner of the room. “Did you have a good break?”

  He sat on the edge of her desk, putting his briefcase down on the floor.

  “I had a wonderful few days thank you, Amy. It was nice to be home for a while. Very restful.”

  He started opening some of the letters Amy had given him.

  “And Mrs. Madison? How is she after her holiday?”

  “She had a lovely time. Tuscany was a joy to visit, as usual. It’s done her the power of good.”

  Amy smiled, handing him his coffee. She’d worked for Daniel Madison for over two years now and he was simply the nicest, kindest person she’d ever worked for. He was talkative, friendly and never spoke down to her. She was very lucky, and she knew that.

  “Would you like me to make any calls for you?” Amy asked. ”I can go through your e-mails if you like; see if there’s anything that needs attending to.”

  “That would be extremely helpful, Amy, thank you,” Daniel smiled, picking up his case and entering his office, closing the door behind him.

  He put his case down on the desk and walked over to the window, putting his hands in his pockets as he looked out at the view. There was no place he’d rather be right now except, maybe, at home with Samantha. He was more than aware that his wife would prefer him to spend more time with her, and that she also knew this next stage of his career was only going to take him away from her even more, but it was what he needed to do, and she knew that too. But she’d never stop him; she’d never stand in his way because she really was the perfect wife. He was a very lucky man.

  The sound of the telephone ringing made him turn around and he walked back over to his desk, pressing the intercom, Amy’s voice coming loud and clear over the speaker.

  “It’s Mr. Gordon on line three, Mr. Madison.”

  “Thank you, Amy. Put him straight through.”

  Angus Gordon was a fellow MP and a very close friend of Daniel’s. Thick set, grey-haired and in his mid-50’s, with a gentle Scottish accent owed very much to his Outer Hebridian heritage, he was masterminding Daniel’s forthcoming leadership campaign. He was a master of spin, and he knew more than anyone how capable Daniel was of not only winning the Leadership Election, but of also winning the General Election. He was the kind of person Daniel needed by his side as things moved forward, and Daniel was very much aware of that.

  “Angus, how are you?”

  “Have you got the TV on, Daniel?” Angus’s voice was more than a little excited, and Daniel knew that he never got excited without good reason.

  “No...”

  “Then switch it onto a news channel now, quickly!”

  Daniel reached out and picked up the remote control that lay next to his laptop, pointing it at the large flat screen TV on the wall. It leapt into life, already tuned to the rolling news channel he very rarely switched off.

  “Are you watching?” Angus asked.

  “Yes. I’m watching it now.” Daniel sat down on the edge of his desk, watching as Andrew Mitchell stood outside his West London home in front of a sea of photographers and journalists, announcing the one thing Daniel Madison had waited months to hear. That he was officially resigning as Leader of the Opposition with immediate effect. He hoped the job of finding his replacement would be a quick affair and that his party would be up and running with a new leader sooner rather than later, ready to head forward into the much anticipated General Election.

  “It’s going to be a quick campaign, Daniel,” Angus said as Daniel continued to watch Andrew Mitchell give his final speech. “So, are we ready to move fast with this?”

  “Yes. Yes, we are. Angus, how many other candidates are we looking at here?”

  “Could be up to five I reckon. But we’ve got the strongest chance, Daniel; we’ve got the most support. We’ll have the signatures and the backing we need before the week’s out. And you’ll walk any of the hustings, I have no doubt about that.”

  Daniel could feel his stomach turning with an excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time. This was it. It was really happening. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than this. It was the beginning of his ultimate dream, his goal, his life’s ambition. And it was starting to happen right now.

  Angus’s voice broke into his thoughts. “So, we can announce you’re throwing your hat into the ring for the leadership this afternoon then?”

  Daniel stood up and went back over to the window, glancing out across the River Thames and the view he never tired of.

  “Yes. We can definitely announce that Angus. Let’s get the ball rolling as soon as possible.”

  “Good man. We’re going to do this, Daniel. You’ve got it in the bag, I’m certain of it.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Nobody else comes close. We’ll talk over lunch, ok? Is 1.30 alright for you?”

  “That’s fine. I’ll see you then, Angus, and thanks.”

  Daniel hung up the ‘phone and turned round as Amy walked into the office carrying another pile of post.

  “Is everything ok, Mr. Madison?”

  A smile slowly spread across Daniel’s handsome face and she couldn’t help smiling too.

  “Everything’s fine, Amy. Everything’s more than fine. Andrew Mitchell’s finally resigned! He’s done it, and you know what that means don’t you?”

  She couldn’t help laughing. His excitement was almost contagious. “I think I do, yes.”

  He walked over to Amy, catching her in an unexpected, uncharacteristic, but not entirely unwanted hug.

  “It means you could be looking at the new Leader of the Opposition, Amy. And maybe, just maybe, one day, the Prime Minister himself!”

&nbs
p; “You deserve this, Mr. Madison. You really do.”

  Daniel let go of her, running back round behind his desk and sitting down, switching on his computer.

  “Can you cancel any appointments I’ve got for this morning? And I’m going to have a few letters for you to send out in an hour or so, is that alright?”

  She nodded, placing the post down on his desk and picking up an empty coffee cup. He was already typing away, concentrating hard. He had a lot to do and he wanted to get started as soon as possible.

  “I’ll sort everything out, Mr. Madison. Don’t worry.”

  He looked up and smiled. “Thank you, Amy.” He looked at his watch. 9.35. Samantha was due to attend a parish council meeting this morning to discuss some charity functions, but she’d told him she wouldn’t be leaving until at least 10am. If he called her now he could catch her before she left, because he really needed to talk to her. For all Daniel was an ambitious and driven man, throughout it all, every step of the way, Samantha had been by his side. She’d helped him by just being there and supporting him. She was his beautiful wife and he loved her and he just wanted to tell her that. He needed her to know how much she meant to him because he didn’t know if he could do what he was about to do if she wasn’t around. He only hoped he never had to find out.

  CHAPTER NINE

  It was a warm, clear night as the music belted out of the enormous speakers surrounding the stage, thousands of rock fans crammed into a stadium that was packed full of atmosphere, attitude and hope. Hope from every female fan that Mark Cassidy would pick them out for their night with a rock star. Hope that they’d be the one to experience that Cassidy magic.

  As Stevie watched from the wings, crouched down beside the cool box full of iced water and beer, she could see them there in the front of the crowd, all made up like human Barbie Dolls, practically throwing themselves at Mark any time he came near the front of the stage. They had no idea they weren’t even his type although, to be fair, she wasn’t entirely sure Mark Cassidy even had a type. What she was sure of though was that he was putting on the performance of his life out there. His voice sounded better than it had done in ages and he was commanding that stage like the legend he could quite possibly become. In his torn jeans and army boots, his tan and tattoos shown off to full effect in a tight white t-shirt, he looked incredible. There was no doubt that he had it all, he had everything and he knew it. Arrogance, attitude and more sex appeal than anyone should legally have, that was Mark Cassidy. One hell of a bastard.

  They were about to end another successful gig, the crowd going wild as the closing guitar solo from Johnny ended their third encore. And then they were done, running off stage as the last of the pyrotechnics fired up into the night sky, lighting it up as the crowd screamed for more. But that was it. Done. Manchester had had two nights of Black Rock Diamond and now it was time to move on, and Stevie couldn’t wait to leave this city and head back to London. It hadn’t been a good experience for her, it never was. She never enjoyed coming back to the North West. There were too many ghosts here and she could do without them intruding on her life.

  As soon as the guys were off stage it was Stevie and the crew’s turn to run on and start the long job of dismantling and clearing away but she looked forward to it. More so tonight, thanks to Mark Cassidy’s inability to keep a promise.

  There was a huge gang of them here, all of them good friends and all of them good at what they did. They were almost like a family, and that’s what Stevie loved about being involved with all of this. It was an odd kind of security but it was security all the same. They looked after each other. The banter was a laugh and everybody made sure it was always fun, no matter how hard the work was, and it was incredibly hard at times. But they were all professionals, and everyone’s combined skills meant everything usually got done in record quick time.

  She needed her mind taken off things anyway. She’d asked one thing of Mark, just one thing for a couple of nights, that was all. He’d promised her he’d be there for her and he’d chosen to break that promise. He’d chosen to please nobody but himself and leave her on her own last night and she saw no reason why he was going to be any different tonight. All she’d asked was for him to spend one post-gig night with her, that was all. She always gave him what he wanted, she was always there for him before he went on stage, always there with the now almost-habitual pre-concert sex, and he couldn’t even be bothered to spend one night away from playing Mr Rock Star to be with her when she needed him most. He didn’t know that, of course. He didn’t know that she needed him, that she was feeling uneasy and unsettled and vulnerable because she was in a place that brought back too many memories, and she didn’t really want him to know. She didn’t want to have to explain. Stevie Stone was strong, defiant, tough. Nothing got her down. But sometimes, just sometimes, all she needed was her rocker boyfriend to only want her.

  It was after 3am by the time she got back to the hotel. She’d stayed down in the bar for a little while, taking some time out with the rest of the guys in the crew to wind down and have a few drinks, and in a way it felt good to be apart from the band for a while and be with the people she could really identify with. She’d known some of these guys a lot longer than she’d known any of the band and they’d been good to her. They were good for each other. Some of them had told Stevie that Mark was no good for her, that he’d only end up hurting her and their concern was nice to have. It was almost like a brotherly love and it meant a lot, but she couldn’t do anything except ignore it. Because Mark Cassidy was under her skin and, no matter what, she needed to be around him.

  Tired and more than ready for sleep, she pushed open her hotel room door, surprised to see the light on. She could have sworn she’d turned it off when she’d left all those hours earlier.

  “Hey, you’re home.”

  She turned round to see Mark coming out of the bathroom, dressed only in his jeans and boots, his hair all messed up in a look that probably was just-got-out-of-bed. Literally. Just not her bed.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you, baby.”

  He tried to slide his arms around her waist but she wasn’t in the mood, slapping them away.

  “Too late, Mark. Too fucking late.”

  “Come on, Stevie. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

  She swung round to stare at him. He was heartbreakingly handsome but a first rate bastard all the same. And she was in no mood for him tonight.

  “I asked you to do one thing, Mark. One thing. To leave the bimbo’s alone for one fucking night and be with me, somebody who actually fucking cares about you, and you couldn’t do it. Could you?”

  “Baby...”

  “Don’t ‘baby’ me, Mark; I’ve had it with you.”

  She walked into the bathroom, pulling off her t-shirt and throwing it on the floor.

  “Stevie...”

  “What? What do you want, Mark?”

  “I want you. Come on, I came back, didn’t I? I came back to you.”

  “Fuck off, Cassidy. I’m really not in the mood.”

  He grabbed her round the waist and pulled her against him, kissing her with a force that almost sent her reeling, just before she pushed him away with a force that was just as hard.

  “I said, fuck off! I’m not doing this tonight, Mark. Not with you.”

  “You gonna run to Johnny then? You gonna go sleep with him?”

  “I’m not you, Mark. I don’t feel the need to always have to be with someone, to have my ego fed like some over-hungry animal. You’re a legend in your own fucking head sometimes, you really are.”

  She slipped out of her denim shorts, leaving her in just her underwear as she pulled off her bandana and threw it onto the counter beside the sink.

  “Leave me alone, Mark.” Her voice was quieter now. She was tired; the events of the last two days were catching up with her - the constant worry that something was going to trip her up, make her remember; bring forward the guil
t.

  He came up behind her, and this time she didn’t fight him as he slipped his arms around her, kissing her neck gently. She closed her eyes and lay back against him, feeling him slide his fingers down her hips and thighs as his mouth continued to kiss her shoulder and she knew she was falling. He was her weakness and she hated herself for it sometimes.

  “Don’t do this to me, Mark. Please.”

  His fingers were stroking her inner thighs now, forcing her to open her legs a touch wider, and she knew if she didn’t stop him now she wouldn’t be able to. She didn’t have the strength.

  “I can’t do this,” she said, breaking free of his grip and walking out of the bathroom.

  “Jesus, Stevie, you can’t leave me like this. I’ve got a fucking hard-on from hell here.”

  “Then go find one of your fans to give it to because you’re not putting it in me tonight.”

  “I don’t want another groupie. You’re all I want, baby. Just you.”

  Stevie laughed a cynical laugh as she looked at him. “The same old bloody line, every time. I’m tired of it, Mark.”

  “Come on, Stevie, for fuck’s sake, honey. You know we’re gonna go there eventually. Let’s just cut the crap, ok?”

  “Not this time, Cassidy.”

  He moved closer to her, their eyes locked together and she backed slowly away from him, until she was right up against the wall.

  “Every time, Stevie. Every fucking time, and you know it.”

  She shook her head, even though she knew as well as he did that the game was reaching its natural and inevitable end.

  “You want me in there so bad, don’t you?”

  “You’re second hand goods, Cassidy. Why would I want you anywhere near me?”

  They were staring each other out, playing the game to the letter.

  “None of them mean a thing to me, Stevie. They serve a purpose, they get me off, but none of them can touch you. None of them.”

  He was right in her face now, his hand touching her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. This was it. Endgame. And they were both winners.

 

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