by Sofia Grey
Amongst a catalogue of injuries, Sylvie’s left leg was broken in two places, and she stayed in hospital for almost two weeks. Alex virtually lived there, holding her hand, wiping her tears, feeding her morsels, and waiting for her to talk. It wasn’t that she was mute; she just retreated into her own space and didn’t want to communicate with anyone. She had a steady stream of visitors, but the only person she wanted to see would never be with her again.
* * * *
It was a good day when Sylvie’s doctor said she could go home. Only question was, where did she class as home now? Alex knew where he wanted her to go. Rhosneigr. He hoped the peace and quiet, and the gentle affection of Kate and Jordan would work their magic.
Sylvie acquiesced. She didn’t care much for anything any more.
Alex visited every day. Christmas was low key. Marcus had come out of hospital and was staying in London with Marianne, Louisa flew back to Houston, and Sylvie stayed in bed, hiding away from the world. She continued to live at Kate’s house, as December drifted slowly into January.
Maz phoned and asked to meet with Alex before she flew back to the U.S. She was visiting her parents in Manchester, and Alex drove out to meet her. They had coffee in Starbucks, and he waited to see what she had to say.
She smiled, but it was wistful. “I wanted to ask you something. It’s been on my mind for years.”
“Go on.”
“When we split up that summer, you said you’d come back for me. You promised. But you never did. Why not?” She looked up at him, and for a moment he saw the innocent eighteen year old in her face.
“I did. I left it too long; that’s all.”
She looked over his shoulder, somewhere into the distance. “We’re too different now.”
He nodded.
“And... I don’t love you. I’m not in love with you now, AJ.”
“I think you were in love with AJ. But I became Alex again.”
It was her turn to nod. “You know Marcus and I are making a go of it? He’s asked Louisa for a divorce, and we’re moving back to Houston.”
“Yeah. I know.” Louisa had been surprisingly composed about it. It could all go pear shaped of course, once the lawyers got involved, but Alex hoped it didn’t. He smiled at Maz. “Good luck. I mean it.”
She smiled, leaned forwards to kiss him on the cheek, and then walked out of his life.
Alex thought about Maz as he drove back to Rhosneigr—how they’d both moved on, and how everyone changed as time passed. Time was passing too quickly for his liking. The charity gig was scheduled in six weeks’ time. The world tour started mid-April. And he still needed a bass player.
He called around to Kate’s, as usual, and found Sylvie waiting in the kitchen. She gazed at him, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Notice anything different? About me?” Her eyes sparkled, but the sadness was still there, draped around her like an overcoat.
“Nope. Help me out here?”
She raised her left leg—no longer encased in plaster. Now she wore her tight black jeans again, albeit a looser fit. “I’ve had a big day today,” she said. “I can start to walk properly again. I’ve ditched the crutches and have a stick now. And that’s only for a few weeks.”
Alex smiled. “That’s good.” Inside, he sagged. While she was virtually incapacitated, she had no reason to leave, but now she was mobile again. She was probably aching to get back to her other life. The life before Rico. The life before she met Alex.
She hesitated, and her gaze skittered away. “I wanted to ask you a favour. Two favours.” She looked back at him, slightly pink in the cheeks.
He shrugged. “Sure. You know you can ask me anything.”
“One—will you please take me for a walk on the beach? I can’t manage the dune on my own. I’m scared of falling and hurting myself.”
“I can do that. What’s the second thing?”
She spoke in a rush. “I need some clothes. You know how few I’ve got.” He nodded, remembering her single piece of luggage that held all her worldly goods. “I wondered if you could take me out to buy some. I’m thinking of going away.”
This was it; the killer punch had been delivered. It wasn’t unexpected. Alex had been waiting for the axe to fall. It still hurt, though. “Sure.” He tried to look encouraging. “Shall we talk about it on the beach?”
She flashed him a little smile. “Why don’t we drive down to the village and park on the beach ramp? That’d be easier for me.”
Alex helped her out of the car, and they linked arms and walked slowly down the boat ramp onto the sand. It was a typical mid-January day, grey and cloudy, with a bitter wind blowing straight down from the Arctic.
She paused in her steps, and stared up at the sky. “It’s so beautiful here. Aren’t you going to miss it?”
“When I’m touring? Yeah. You bet.” He breathed in the sea air. “But it’s home now. It’s where I’ll always come back to.”
“I need to talk to you.” Her voice was quiet, and made his heart sink further. “I know, Alex. I know why you’ve done this.” She looked up at him. The wind whipped her hair across her face, but she ignored it. “Rico asked you to look after me, and you have. I couldn’t have asked for better care. I want to thank you. But you don’t need to do it any more.”
Alex was mute. There were things he wanted to say and things he really shouldn’t say, and they were all mixed up together. So he said nothing.
She watched carefully, then spoke again. “I think I need to start over.”
“In the ideal world then, what are your plans?” He tried to sound casual.
She looked away and spoke lightly. “Oh the usual. Go travelling. Get my head together. I got severance pay from TM-Tech, and I was thinking of going to the States. I always planned to go, before I met Rico. Now seems like a good time.”
“I know about grief. And how it fucks you up. But you’ll mend again, Syl. It won’t hurt so much.” For someone who was famous for penning unforgettable lyrics, he was doing a piss poor job of finding the right words here. He swallowed. “You’ll fall in love again some day.”
Sylvie shifted position, and then glanced up at him. “I hope so, and when I do, it’ll be with someone who chose to be with me.”
It felt like a knife twisting in his side. He had one shot at this. He couldn’t afford to screw up. “You’re wrong, you know. About me.” He stopped until she looked up. “I would have looked after you, even if Rico didn’t say what he did. I would have brought you back here anyway. I care for you, Syl. More than you’ll probably ever realise. I can’t replace Rico, and I wouldn’t want to, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have a chance for ourselves. It’s too soon. I’m not asking you to make any kind of commitment, but to think about me... you know, sometimes? And when you’re ready to find that nice man to marry, maybe give me a call?”
“Oh, Alex.” She sighed, impatient for some reason. “You seem hell bent on finding women, letting them go, and then waiting endlessly for them to come back.”
He grunted. “If you mean Maz, I saw her today. We talked nicely and agreed we’ve both moved on a lot in ten years. I’m not pining for her, if that’s what you mean. Truth is I knew it was a mistake right from the start. I didn’t like to give up without a try.”
The conversation ground to a halt. With their arms linked, they walked on slowly, stopping only when they reached the ripples of the incoming tide.
“Syl, I’ve a question for you.”
“Go on.”
“I’ve got this problem. I need to find a bass player at short notice for a couple of charity gigs. Someone who knows Event Horizon material, has plenty of time to rehearse, and doesn’t mind working with Charlie and Mick. And AJ of course—and everyone knows he’s a real tosser.”
“Oh.” She looked amused.
“I don’t suppose you’d think of helping out. Would you? I know you’re planning a holiday and all that.”
There was the glimmer of a real smile—the first he’d seen in ages. �
�Are you kidding? I’d love to. But am I good enough? One little party is a different ballgame to a paying gig.”
He shrugged, heartened by her enthusiasm. “You need to practice. Hell, we all need to. Preferably together.”
“Yes, please. I’d be honoured to help out. Just two charity gigs?”
“Yep.” He nodded. “I mean, there’s a whole bunch of other gigs after those, but—well—I don’t want to upset your holiday. I respect you’ve got other plans for the year.”
She glanced at him, a puzzled frown on her face.
He grinned, feeling more confident now. “We’re going to the U.S. in a few months, anyway. July to September, I think. Maybe we could meet up if you’re still there?”
“Yeah.” She looked more uncertain by the minute.
Alex stopped walking and turned to face her. “Or you could come along for real. Join the band properly. Do the tour, recording—the whole package. Help me with the new material.” He paused, and she stared at him. “I’d really like you to think about that too? And for the record, I’m asking you because I want to. Not because of anything else.”
“I’d love to join the band. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I’d be a fool to turn it down.”
“Why do I sense a but coming?”
She twisted her lips. “No, it’s not a but. I care for you too, Alex. And I’m confused, because I was in love with Rico but I wanted you as well. I guess I need a little time before I think about another relationship. When I’m ready, though—if you’re still interested—then maybe we could try it.” She looked down at the sand. Scuffed one boot against the other. “Are you sure you’re prepared to wait for me?”
It was the best news he’d heard in an age. He slipped his arms around her and held her close. He remembered how he held her when she woke from her nightmares. How she kissed him on the beach after that awful row. How they made the most wonderful music together.
How much he loved her.
Yes, he could wait. She was worth waiting for.
“I guess I can.” He pretended to be offhand. “I’ll have to let all my other potential girlfriends know. They might get jealous.”
She poked him in the stomach. “Broken leg or not, I can floor you. Remember that.”
She floored him every time he saw her. One day he’d tell her he fell for her when he first saw her smiling at Rico. One day, a long time from now.
Epilogue
July, Reliant Stadium, Houston
The supporting acts were good—major bands that would usually headline in their own right. As the daylight faded and the temperature dropped a fraction, the seventy-five-thousand strong audience breathed a collective sigh of satisfaction when the spotlights started to flash and swirl. There was a fifteen-minute break, as the final supporting act cleared the stage, and the crowd was getting restless.
A soft chant rose in volume. “AJ. AJ. AJ.”
Marianne nudged Marcus and pointed to the amplifier stacks at the sides of the stage. They all lit up. “Here they come.” She had to speak directly into his ear. The crowd volume was increasing and rose to a torrent of noise as everyone stood to cheer the band.
They looked tiny—four figures on an enormous platform, dwarfed by lighting gantries, screens and amplifiers. Mick’s drum kit was on a separate dais, at the back.
He raised his sticks and counted them in. One. Two. Three. Four.
The pounding guitar intro for “Night Train” swept over the crowd, raising more cheers and applause. Marcus stood next to her, grinning from ear to ear, as she sang along. She knew all the words to all their songs. Hell, she helped to write some of them.
They swept through another three driving anthems in rapid succession, then slowed the tempo. Mick kept a rolling tattoo on the snare drum, Charlie a gentle one-two on the rhythm guitar, and Sylvie a steady backbeat.
AJ took the mic and held up one arm to the crowd, catching their attention. “Good evening, Houston.”
They all roared back.
“I can’t tell you how good it is to be back here.”
More cheers.
Marianne watched in admiration. Right from the early days, he’d been able to whip his audience into a frenzy and then calm them with a gesture. He was a genuine showman.
He took their applause, waited, and spoke again. “We have a new line-up, as I’m sure you already know. Mick is still here on drums...”
Mick soloed briefly.
“...Charlie on rhythm...”
Charlie hammered out some riffs, nodding and grinning to the stadium.
“...Sizzle, is our new bass...”
Sylvie stepped forwards, ran some lines up and down the neck, and stepped back again, slightly out of the spotlight.
With each person introduced, the crowd noise increased.
“...and I’m AJ. But you know that.”
More roars, the loudest yet.
AJ held them a little longer this time, then halted them. “Tonight is special. We are playing in dedication to Rico. Without his outstanding bravery, this concert would not have been possible. He loved this city. This one’s for you, Rico.”
Marianne’s eyes stung, and she sought Marcus’s hand. He slipped an arm around her shoulders, before wiping away her tears.
It was one of their brand new tracks, from the forthcoming album. She knew AJ and Sylvie wrote it together. AJ crooned through the words, the ballad simple but haunting in its clarity. The backing was understated; it was mainly AJ and Sylvie.
The crowd loved it.
There was a pause, as the final chords drifted into silence. AJ raised both hands to the sky, palms up, and gazed at the moon rising over the back of the stadium. “Thank you.” He cried it to the sky, and the crowd went wild.
Marianne sat back, moved beyond words. She cuddled into Marcus and watched the moon track over the sky and the stars appearing. It was a perfect night.
The End
To see what happens next with Alex and Sylvie’s romance, read Two Nights in Houston. This novella picks up the story six months later.
Here’s a sneak peek of Two Nights in Houston.
Excerpt from Two Nights in Houston
Chapter 1
Uh oh. Any minute now, there’d be an explosion. And it wouldn’t be pretty.
Alex doodled a picture of a bomb on the pad in front of him and stretched a thick black fuse from the centre, while he flicked a sideways glance at Sylvie. Her mouth a tight line, she curled one hand into a fist on the table. He sketched a match with a flame at the end and started the countdown in his head.
The latest hapless reporter at the press conference gushed some more. “So tell me, Sizzle—may I call you Sylvie?”
Five.
“You can call me Sizzle.”
Four.
The reporter continued, undaunted. “There are rumours about your relationship with the other band members. One in particular.”
Three.
Sylvie arched one eyebrow and fixed the journalist with a stare that could form icicles. “Really?”
Two.
Cameras flashed, as they jostled for position, waiting to see her reaction. The reporter pressed on. “Is there anything between you and AJ? As the new bass player in his band, you must spend a lot of time with him.”
One.
Silence reigned, as Sylvie stiffened her back and raised her chin. On Alex’s other side, rhythm guitarist Charlie snorted with laughter that he managed to turn into a cough. Alex trailed a biro line from the match flame. Any second now...
“AJ and I have an excellent working relationship.”
He bent his head, ready to hide his grin.
“I believe that’s what I said in yesterday’s press conference, too,” said Sylvie. The press guys waited. “And you know what? I said that in the conference last week. And the week before.”
Alex doodled a tiny heart. God, she was sexy when she was angry.
“And I’ll say it again next week, until you e
ventually listen. Hello, can anyone actually hear me?” she said.
Boom.
The band manager, Frankie, shifted in his seat.
Sylvie hardened her voice. “AJ and I are just friends. I’ll spell it for you.” And she did just that.
Alex drew another heart next to the first, then scribbled rapidly over both of them. Stupid git.
Frankie cleared his throat and squirmed some more. Alex didn’t know why Frankie got so stressed. It wasn’t as though Syl’s outburst would have any adverse effects on their publicity or the album sales. The Event Horizon comeback tour would make them even more massive than they were.
Sylvie paused, and Frankie leapt in. “Are there any questions for the other band members?”
A ferret-faced guy stuck his hand in the air. “A question for AJ. How are you finding it, performing with Sizzle on bass instead of your late brother, Sam?”
Here we go. Alex leaned closer to the mic and produced a smile. “We’re all very pleased Sizzle joined the band. She’s a great addition.”
Ferret-face pushed further. “It’s not even two years since he died. You must miss him.”
Stupid question. “He was my little brother. I miss him every day, but I’m dealing with it.”
A busty blonde came next. “I have a question for Charlie.” She played with her hair. “You’ve only got two nights in Houston, so how do you rate the girls here, Charlie? Prettier than Dallas?”
Alex sat back and watched his best friend answer. “If you’re an example of a Houston chick, then yeah. You blow Dallas into the dust, baby.” Her excited squeal brought a wicked smile to his face. “You doing anything later, gorgeous?” he asked.
The conference was almost finished. Mick, the drummer, answered a few questions in his usual laid-back way; Frankie reminded everyone of the next few venues; and then the pretty girl doing PR rambled about backstage passes and VIP tickets.
Alex blanked it all out, intent on watching Sylvie without her noticing. Her temper leashed again, she maintained a polite facade, although she sat on the edge of her chair as though planning to flee at any moment. Clouds of dark hair tumbled down her back, and he longed to run his fingers through it. What would he give, to wake with her nestled against his chest, her hair spread across his pillow? Yeah, right. The last thing Syl needed was Alex chasing after her.