See You at the Show

by Michelle Betham

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  As expected, the world wanted to know just who Stevie Stone was and under normal circumstances that would have annoyed Angus. Anything that took the attention away from Daniel’s work was usually an unwelcome distraction but Angus figured that the more people knew about Ms. Stone, the quicker she’d be out of Daniel’s life. He wasn’t going to give the press or media any help just yet though. He was waiting to see what they came up with all by themselves first because surely they’d start digging now, wouldn’t they? They’d already unearthed the naked photographs and that was just the beginning. She was the P.M.’s new girlfriend, and look at her! She wasn’t anywhere close to your typical politician’s partner; she was a journalist’s dream.

  No, he’d wait a bit longer, see what happened. He’d already made that all important ‘phone call and put the ball very firmly in someone else’s court but if things moved too slow then there was no harm in giving them a little nudge, dropping a few hints. No harm at all. But he had to play this carefully. Should he have to give the press clues then Daniel must never know that anything had come from him. Their relationship had to stay damage-free, Daniel needed him. They were a team, and once everything was back as it should be, with Samantha re-installed as the perfect Prime Minister’s wife, then they could finally start running this country. And Stevie Stone would be nothing but a very beautiful mistake.

  ***

  Mark was excited to be back in London, and that hadn’t escaped Dave’s notice. He’d been nothing but a walking cloud of misery over in the States, even when they’d hit L.A., a place Mark usually loved to be back in. He’d performed like the professional he was during the promotional gigs they’d done, despite the hours of drinking he was quite obviously putting in, but when they hadn’t been working he’d holed himself up at his home in Brentwood, preferring to be alone rather than hanging out with the rest of the band. Dave thought he knew Mark Cassidy, he’d thought the longer Stevie was away the more Mark would get used to the idea and move on but it hadn’t been that simple, of course it hadn’t. He hadn’t thought Mark was the kind of person to pine over someone or let himself get involved but obviously Mark Cassidy wasn’t the man everyone thought he was. Stevie Stone had got underneath that rock star exterior and now it seemed more than obvious to Dave that not having Stevie around was doing far more damage than her being here ever had. And it was giving him a headache.

  He sat down on the edge of the Wembley Arena stage where Black Rock Diamond were about to begin a ten date residency, watching everything go on around him as they set up for a sound check. And that’s when he realised something he should have realised a long time ago. Stevie Stone was as much a part of this band as any of the guys were. So what was he supposed to do now?

  ***

  Stevie threw the paper down on the floor and lay back on the bed, flinging her arms up above her head as she stared at the ceiling. The fact they’d discovered those photos from her modelling days, the naked ones, the ones where all she had on were biker boots and a bandana, that was no surprise. They’d never been a secret. She’d always known, once she and Daniel had become public knowledge, that they’d surface at some point. She just hoped Daniel wasn’t getting too much flack during Prime Minister’s Question Time, but it was probably far too much to ask that nothing would be said.

  She was fast learning about politics, about the fact that whatever ammunition people could get they’d throw at you, and she was one hell of a lot of ammunition. The tabloids were having a field day with her, writing about her days with Mark and the band, giving her a reputation she never realised she’d had, and she felt bad for Daniel. He was handling it extremely well; at least, in front of her he was but it couldn’t be easy, reading about your girlfriend’s past on the road with rock stars and everything that went with that lifestyle. But if that was all they managed to dig up then she knew she could handle that. They’d get through it somehow. If that was the worst they had to go through then that was best case scenario for Stevie.

  She closed her eyes and tried to muster up the enthusiasm to get up and do something. But what, exactly? She was finding it really hard having all this time on her hands. She missed work. She wasn’t used to sitting around watching daytime telly while waiting for her man to get home. She was alone a lot too, given Daniel’s busy schedule. He was hardly nine-to-five, she knew that, but she was starting to feel lonely and she hated that feeling. When she’d been with the band she’d never really been lonely. If she wasn’t hanging out with Johnny and the guys she was with Colin and the rest of the crew. Back then she’d be alone only when she wanted to be, her choice, not something that was enforced like now. Now she had no choice. And if she wanted to be with Daniel she was going to have to get used to this new way of life, but it wasn’t easy.

  She turned onto her side and picked up her ‘phone, punching out a text to Johnny. She knew they were at Wembley, about to begin a ten date residency at the arena and she felt almost sad as she thought about everything that would be going on while she was lying here, bored out of her head, just waiting for Daniel to get home. They were going out to dinner tonight but even that didn’t excite her. She didn’t feel comfortable in the restaurants they went to, she wasn’t used to the limited freedom Daniel had, the amount of people who went everywhere with him. It wasn’t her, it didn’t feel right. But she loved him, and it was all part of the package. Love the Prime Minister, love his limitations. It sounded easier in theory than the reality it offered up.

  She sighed heavily, lying back down on the pillows, pressing send on her ‘phone and throwing it down beside her, closing her eyes. Daniel was worth it all though, wasn’t he? He was worth all this, worth everything she’d given up. He was reliable, trustworthy, he treat her like a princess. He was everything Mark Cassidy wasn’t. Mark Cassidy, rock star…

  She sat up, opening her eyes and staring out of the window. Just thinking about Mark had unsettled her and she got up, running her fingers through her hair, bending down to pick up the newspaper she’d discarded just a few minutes ago, putting it on the sideboard. It was just the beginning, those pictures. They wouldn’t stop there, surely they’d dig deeper, see what else they could find and just the thought of that made her feel sick but, as usual, she put it to the back of her mind and tried to forget it was a problem. And that was probably the biggest mistake she could have made.

  ***

  Daniel couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t finding all the publicity tough going, especially when there were important things going on in the world of politics that he was having to deal with too. All this interest in his personal life wasn’t something he was enjoying but he was well aware that it came with the territory. And Stevie Stone was hard to ignore.

  The comments some people had made to him regarding her had been more than a little unnecessary though, but he was learning to rise above them. They were all being made simply because people were jealous. Stevie was stunning, but she also represented a threat to their well-ordered, middle-class lives. People in these circles very rarely came into contact with anyone like her. She was a young and beautiful woman that most men would kill to be with and he had to remember that. Every comment, every dig that was being made about her was only because, deep down inside, they wanted to be as close to her as he was rather than the stuffy, prim partners and wives they all had at home. Stevie would never be stuffy. And she couldn’t do prim if she tried.

  Daniel smiled as the car turned the corner and home beckoned. She’d be there, waiting for him, and he was finally starting to relax after a stressful day and a heated PMQ’s. The leader of the opposition was proving to be a force to be reckoned with and Daniel would have to be on his guard with him, that was for sure. He knew the opposition were just trying to wear him down, find a weakness, an opening they could grab and build on, see how far they could push him but it wouldn’t work. He was stronger than that.

  And tonight he was going to forget all about it. Tonight he was g
oing to go home, make love to his beautiful girlfriend and have dinner in a quiet, secluded little restaurant where nobody would bother them and he could concentrate totally on her. Because Stevie Stone deserved to be concentrated on. Tonight she was going to have his complete and undivided attention. And he was going to enjoy every second of it.

  ***

  Connor Franklin was a handsome thirty-seven year old journalist from Southern Ireland who’d lived in Manchester ever since his family had moved over there from Waterford when he was ten. And his life had been a steady one; his journalism career was nothing earth-shattering but it had provided a good income and a life he was fairly happy with. Things had ticked along nicely. But he’d had to make sure of that, hadn’t he? He’d had to make sure that everything stayed steady and secure, after everything that had happened all those years ago. He’d had to make sure of that, for Luke’s sake.

  For the past fifteen years he’d tried to put certain events and painful memories to the back of his mind, things he’d never expected to have to deal with again but now – now those memories were flooding back. Because seeing her again, after all this time - she had a different name, she looked like a different woman but he remembered only too well the woman he’d known back then. Back when everything had happened.

  He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes. He was finding it hard to get to grips with everything that was going on, the sheer speed of it all was overwhelming; and the ‘phone call he’d received from Angus Gordon – he wasn’t sure what to think about that. Something hadn’t felt right about the way the Deputy Prime Minister had spoken about Stevie, it made him nervous. Stevie Stone. Connor had never known her, but he’d loved Stefanie. Once. Before she’d given him no choice but to forget her. And now she was back, and what was he supposed to do exactly? What was he supposed to tell Luke? Luke had no idea. None at all. But the way he’d talked about her as he’d watched her on TV that night, the night she’d been revealed as Prime Minister Madison’s new girlfriend, that wasn’t right. Luke shouldn’t be talking about her like that, Connor needed to stop that and soon. But Luke thought it was so cool that she had all those tattoos and used to be a roadie for a major rock band, a band Luke idolised. Connor just hoped he hadn’t seen those pictures of her that had been splashed all over the papers lately. Stunning though they were, Luke shouldn’t be looking at them.

  He got up and poured himself a small shot of brandy. She’d been in the country all this time. She’d changed her name, changed her image and forged out a whole new identity for herself. A whole new life. But still based in the U.K., and that’s what had surprised Connor more than anything. He’d assumed she’d gone back to Sweden. He’d assumed looking for her would be a waste of time and he’d been right, although he’d tried. In the beginning. But the pain of coming up against dead end after dead end had been too much and he’d stopped, for the sake of his son. It was obvious she hadn’t wanted to be found.

  He knocked back his drink and put the empty glass down, resisting the urge to pour another one. He had to keep a clear head, he had to decide what to do for the best.

  It was a delicate situation to say the least.

  Maybe he should have been honest with Luke from the start but he’d been so young when everything had happened, and then time had just run away with him and Luke had never asked questions as he’d grown up, although Connor had expected him to start once he and his ex-wife Caitlin had separated.

  “Hey, dad, can I borrow twenty quid? Josh and the guys are off into town but I’m skint and I really want to watch the match with them in the pub.”

  Connor looked round as his son walked into the room - tall and handsome with the most incredible blue eyes. He hadn’t been fair to him all these years, but what else could he have done? Maybe he should have handled things differently, but hindsight was a wonderful thing.

  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out two £10 notes, handing them to Luke.

  “Wow! That was easy,” Luke grinned, tucking the money safely into his jacket pocket. “Right, I’ll just nip upstairs. I want to upload a few tracks onto my iPod before I go out.”

  “Luke, hang on.” Connor felt his mouth go dry. Was this the right time? Was there ever going to be a right time for this? “Can I have a word?”

  Luke turned round and looked at his dad. He seemed tired, nervous even. “What’s up?”

  “Sit down. Please.” Connor pulled out a chair and sat down at the dining table, Luke sitting opposite him, keeping his eyes on his dad. Something was up, that was for sure, he wasn’t stupid.

  “Dad? What’s wrong?”

  Connor started fiddling with a coaster, finally looking up at his son. “Do you ever wonder about your mum, Luke? Your real mum, I mean?”

  Luke shrugged. “Caitlin was my mum, that’s how I always thought about it. My real mum obviously didn’t want me and Caitlin was cool. Why should I worry about someone who never cared about me?”

  Connor looked at him as he spoke. He was a wonderfully level-headed young man for his age and he was so proud of him. But what was this news going to do to him? How was he going to take it? And what happened next?

  “Dad, what’s all this about? Why the sudden questions about my mum? You’ve never bothered asking me about her before…”

  “You’re almost eighteen, Luke. Don’t you want to know about her? Don’t you want to know who she is?”

  Luke shrugged again. “Can’t say I’m bothered. Like I said, if she couldn’t be bothered to look for me after all these years why should I bother thinking about her? Anyway, I thought you said she lived abroad?”

  Connor looked back down at the coaster, rolling it around on it’s edge as he tried to work out how to say this. How to tell Luke something he should have told him years ago.

  “Ok,” Luke sighed, getting up from the table. “I’m outta here, dad. I’ve really got to get going. Josh has found some photos of Stevie Stone on the internet that he says we really have to see. Still can’t believe the Prime Minister managed to bag a woman like that, I mean, she’s…”

  “Your mum, Luke. Stevie Stone is your mum.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “You ok?” Johnny asked Mark, joining him for a cigarette and some fresh air outside the back of the arena.

  Their first gig of this tour had gone incredibly well and Black Rock Diamond were now firmly on the map as one of rock’s new forces to be reckoned with. Everything was going to plan, world domination was practically imminent, but Johnny thought Mark looked lost when he wasn’t on stage. When he was up there in front of the crowd he became a different person, but once the noise had died down and the adrenalin rush was over he wasn’t the same. And Johnny knew only too well why that was.

  “I’m fine,” Mark replied, throwing his cigarette onto the floor and shoving his hands in his pockets.

  Johnny looked down at the ground. He wasn’t convinced but he wasn’t going to push it. He knew Mark hated any kind of psychoanalysis.

  “Is she coming, Johnny?”

  Johnny looked up sharply, Mark’s eyes meeting his.

  “You speak to her; she must know we’re back in the U.K. Is she coming to any of the gigs? Have you seen her?”

  “No, I haven’t seen her, Mark. And yeah, she knows we’re here, but I don’t know if she’s coming to any of the gigs, I really don’t. She didn’t say.”

  “You asked her though, didn’t you?”

  The expectation in his voice was pretty hard for Johnny to listen to. It was quite obvious Mark just wasn’t getting over Stevie and although it had been difficult for Johnny too - knowing she’d never care about him in that way was still quite hard to take – it was obviously a hundred times harder for Mark. After all, they’d once had something real; Johnny had only ever had her on loan. But then again, wasn’t he the luckier one now? He still had her friendship. He still spoke to her. Mark didn’t even have that.

  “I asked her, yeah.”

  “And?”
/>
  “Mark, she didn’t say.” He put a hand on Mark’s shoulder as his friend stared at the stubbed-out cigarette on the ground. “Let’s get back inside, huh? We’ve got work to do before tonight’s gig. Come on.”

  Mark looked at him, forcing a smile he didn’t much feel like giving. “Gimme a second, ok?”

  But it was going to take much longer than a second for Mark to start feeling anywhere near getting over Stevie Stone. At least he’d made his mind up on one thing though. No way was he just going to sit back and let her leave his life, he couldn’t do that anymore. He couldn’t accept it. Stevie Stone was his life. And it wouldn’t begin again until she was back in it.

  ***

  Another function she was going to feel out of place in, another dress she was going to hate wearing, another pair of shoes that didn’t suit her, another hairstyle that just wasn’t her. It was all adding to the list of things that were signalling a slow goodbye to everything Stevie stood for. She was losing herself and she hated that feeling, hated losing control.

  Day after day stylists, hairdressers and P.R. people came over to the house, advising her on what to wear, how to style her hair, even how to speak! But as far as she was concerned they weren’t advising at all. They were telling. She was the partner of the Prime Minister and that came with rules and although she’d tried to conform - she really had because she loved Daniel - she’d tried but it was becoming increasingly harder as each day went by. They were slowly wearing down the free-spirited person she’d once been and that scared her. If she lost her she lost Stevie Stone and that wasn’t something she was prepared to let happen.