Bold as Love (50 page)

‘What are you going to do,’ sez Ax, ‘when your fans finally work out that the drug-addled drunken oaf they adore, is acutally a very fuckin’ clever bloke who works very fuckin’ hard?’

‘No problem. They all think that is what they are secretly like themselves.’

‘Modest, too.’

Sage stared dreamily at the tiles on the wall, ‘Ax. I made, still making, absolute shitload of money out of Bleeding Heart. Me personally I mean, not talking of the band. Do you want it?’

I’m happier than I have ever been in my life, thought Ax. God, this is perfect, this is paradise. There’s nothing else I could possibly want. ‘Ah, but can you get at it? In’t your financial empire tied up in knots since Ivan/Lara?’

‘I can get at plenty. I
said
, Do you want it.’

Perhaps he’d been a tad ungracious. ‘Uh, yeah. Yes I want it. Thank you very much.’

Sage laughed, but the skull’s blank sockets were considering Ax’s pinned pupils with disapproval. ‘Then it’s yours. An’ I’ll tell you what all else, my dear. You ever touch that stuff again, I’m going to beat the fuckin’ shit out of you.’

The mask had vanished. It penetrated Ax’s happy world that Sage had a right to be angry, meant what he said; and Ax was going to get seriously hurt—

‘Hey, come back to the party. I said
if.
And you’re not going to.’

‘I won’t,’ said Ax, drug clean left him. ‘I’m a fool. I will not do smack again. Never.’

He was looking up at Sage’s natural face, and somehow kept on looking, seeing as if never before the blue eyes and golden brows, the wide cheekbones and blunt, wedge shaped, almost animal muzzle, all centred on that overblown mouth… Verging on grotesque, yeah. But in some lights, and if you’re in the mood, the guy can look like several billion dollars.

Sage looking back at him, with a little smile—

Someone thumped on the door. Fiorinda came in, and stepped over Ax’s legs.

‘Ah, the lovebirds. I knew I’d find you two tucked away together somewhere romantic.’

Sage clambered precariously to the floor, lost his footing, sat down by Ax and held out his arms. Fiorinda settled herself against his chest, sighed contentedly, and gave her boyfriend a dirty look. She knew what he’d been up to.

‘I’m not speaking to you.’

‘Ah, don’t be hard on him Fee,’ said Sage, kissing her hair. ‘Not tonight.’

‘He’s already given me a bollocking—’

‘Oh all right. Come here.’ She tugged at him until he was arranged to her liking, and they settled together, Ax with his head on her lap, Sage’s arms around them both.

Wrong again, Ax thought. I was not perfectly happy, but now I am, and if I had the power this is where I would make time stop, this is where I’d stay forever.

This is it, this moment. This, now.

END OF PART ONE

The story continues in

Castles Made of Sand