See You at the Show (17 page)

Mark looked up at him again.
 
“She’s mine, Johnny.
 
She belongs to
me
.”

“She belongs to nobody, Mark, and you know that.”

“I can see what’s happening, y’know.
 
I can see what you’re doing.”

Johnny laughed again, taking a swig from his bottle of lager.
 
“And what exactly
am
I doing, Mark?”

“You want her.”

“Jesus, who doesn’t?
 
Jack wants her; half the crew want her; ask Dave, I reckon even he’d have a go given half a chance.”

“You know what I fucking mean, Johnny.
 
And it stops, ok?
 
We’ve had our fun; we’re done with that...”

“Well,
you
might be...”

Mark stepped forward and grabbed Johnny by his t-shirt, throwing him back against the wall.

“No, you don’t understand, Johnny.
 
It’s over.
 
The days of her running to you are over.
 
I know what you feel for her and it fucking stops, right here.
 
You got that?”

Johnny threw his bottle down on the floor and immediately retaliated, pushing Mark backwards as hard as
he’d
pushed
him
.

“Where the fuck do you get off on telling me what to do?
 
Huh?
 
You don’t know what I feel, you know nothing, so don’t stand there and tell me what I can and can’t do.
 
You’re pissing me off, Mark.
 
Now get out of my face.
 
I’ve had enough.”

“No more, Johnny,” Mark said, staring at him, brushing himself down.
 
“No more.
 
She’s mine, and all this shit is gonna stop.
 
It’s gonna stop.”

“You talk so much crap, Mark.”

Mark pushed both hands through his hair, still staring at Johnny.
 
“Are you in love with her?”

Johnny took another drink, looking his best friend right in the eyes.
 
“Are
you
?”

Mark said nothing.
 
He couldn’t.
 
The words wouldn’t come out, and that’s what scared him the most.
 
That’s what scared him more than anything.
 
But that’s what he was going to have to face up to.
 
He just wasn’t altogether sure he was ready.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Samantha placed Daniel’s plate in front
 
of him before sitting down opposite, pouring two glasses of wine.

“Daniel, sweetheart, it’s time for dinner.
 
Could you put the newspaper down now?
 
Please?”

He looked at her, quickly folding the newspaper up and putting it down next to his plate.
 
“I’m sorry darling.”

She put down her knife and fork.
 
“I’m worried about you, Daniel.
 
These past few days…you’ve been so distracted, distant even.
 
Maybe you’ve taken on too much.
 
You’re working so hard.”

He took a sip of wine.
 
“I’m fine, Samantha.
 
I know what I’m doing; I’m not working too hard.
 
There’s just a lot to think about.”

“You look tired,” she said, picking up her fork and continuing to eat.

“I said I’m fine.”

She looked down at her plate.
 
He wasn’t himself that was more than obvious.
 
But whatever was on his mind he didn’t seem to want to talk about it.

“How’s your steak?” she asked, watching as he picked at his food.

“It’s good.
 
Thanks.”

He wasn’t in the mood for conversation, not even with his wife, and she’d done nothing wrong.
 
It wasn’t her fault.
 
He just wished he could get his head together and forget about a woman who’d come crashing into his life and kicked his world right off its well-ordered axis.
 
But he couldn’t.
 
He’d tried, but he couldn’t.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Daniel?
 
If you want to talk about anything...?”

“Please, Samantha.
 
I’m fine.”
 
He knew he’d snapped unnecessarily at her and he quickly smiled, reaching out to take her hand.
 
“I’m sorry.
 
I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.
 
Maybe I
am
a little tired.
 
An early night might be a good idea, what do you think?”

She smiled too, squeezing his hand.
 
“I think that’s probably the most sensible thing you’ve said all day.”

They were interrupted by the shrill sound of Daniel’s mobile ‘phone ringing in his jacket pocket.

“Can’t you just leave it?” Samantha asked, sitting back in her chair as Daniel reached into the pocket of his jacket that was slung over the back of his seat.

“I can’t, darling.
 
It might be important.”

“They’d leave a message if it was, wouldn’t they?”

He looked at the caller ID.
 
It was a number he didn’t recognise and that was odd because he only ever gave his number to people he knew.
 
But then he remembered the night at Wembley.
 
The night he’d given his details to Stevie.
 
It had to be her.
 
It had to be.

“I’ve really got to take this, Samantha.”

She sighed, taking a long drink of wine as he pushed his chair back and left the room.
 
She should be used to this, used to him disappearing at a moment’s notice, but it never really got any easier.

Daniel made sure he was well out of ear shot of the kitchen before he answered the call, shutting himself in the small downstairs office that Samantha used, leaning back against the wall.

“Hey there, crazy guy.”

Her voice came clear down the line and he couldn’t help but smile as he heard her speak.

“You didn’t come the other night,” he said, sitting down on the high-backed chair in front of the desk.
 

“Did you really think I would?”

He didn’t say anything for a second.
 
“I don’t know.
 
Maybe I just
hoped
you would.”

“It wasn’t a good time for me.
 
Not that night.”

“And now?”

“Now we’ve got a night off.”

“I still want to see you, Stevie.
 
Nothing’s changed.”
 
He wished it had, he really did.
 
But it hadn’t.
 

She was quiet for a second.
 
Had he scared her off again?
 
Was he still making himself sound like a total idiot?

“Yeah, I’m kinda intrigued by you too, Mr. Politician.
 
Where are you?”

“I’m at home.
 
In
Berkshire
.”

“Tonight’s out then.”

“No!
 
No, it isn’t.
 
I need to be in
London
tomorrow anyway, I was just going to leave very early in the morning.
 
But I can leave tonight.
 
I can be there in an hour or so, the roads are quiet at this time.”

“Jesus.
 
You really
are
keen aren’t you?”

Stevie had no idea why she was doing this, apart from a deepening curiosity as to why this well-spoken, well-bred gentleman was so fascinated by her.
 
She was a rocker, a tattooed tomboy who swore like a man and never wore dresses; she wasn’t his type at all, but for some reason he wouldn’t leave her alone, and she needed to know why.
 
She wanted to know more about him, about who he was and what he was playing at.
 
And Mark was being a complete pain in the arse lately anyway so keeping out of his way was something she was more than happy to do right now.
 

She’d been with Johnny these past couple of nights and that had been fun, just chilling at his flat after the gigs with a few of the crew guys, drinking beer and listening to Joe Bonamassa and Eric Clapton – two guitar greats.
 
But she hadn’t been able to get Daniel out of her mind.
 
And she didn’t like to leave things unanswered.

“You’ve still got my address, haven’t you?” Daniel asked, his heart racing at the thought of seeing her again and that was crazy.
 
It wasn’t him, none of this was him but he wanted to see her so badly.
 
A normally rational man, he was experiencing feelings he’d never experienced before.
 
At a time when they should have been kicked into touch way before they’d got to this stage.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not very talkative, are you?”

“Why bother talking now when that’s what we’re gonna do later.
 
Isn’t it?
 
Unless you’ve got other ideas and you’re just luring me to your
London
pad for sex.”

Just the sound of her saying that made him flinch.
 
He honestly hadn’t even thought about that.
 
Had he?
 

“Of course we’re just going to talk.”

She laughed and he closed his eyes, putting his head in his hand.
 
He was starting to get a headache.
 
He had a beautiful wife next door and yet all he wanted to do was get out of there and get to
London
.
 
All he wanted to do was see Stevie.

“I’m at bar round the corner from your place,” Stevie said, a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach getting stronger the more she spoke to this strange man.
 
“Just give me a call when you get here.
 
You’ve got my number now.”

And then she was gone.
 
And all Daniel wanted to do was get to her.

***

The music in the bar was heavy, loud and just what Stevie wanted to listen to. It matched her mood.
 
The band had one night off in the middle of their Wembley gigs but, as usual, there was no such thing as a night in front
 
of the TV for this lot.
 
They were all in a bar they hung out at frequently, with some of the guys from the crew, just having a few drinks and playing some pool, and it was no secret that the band hung out here when they were in London so a fair amount of people – mainly women - who wanted to catch a glimpse or try their luck with the guys were also hanging around, but only Jack seemed to be showing any of them any interest.
 
Mark was playing pool with Colin, Johnny was deep in conversation with some of the crew guys and Billy, well, Billy was just Billy.

Stevie was quite happy to just sit there and watch everything going on around her.
 
She was waiting for a call.
 
She had no idea why she was waiting for it, or what she was going to do when she got it, she just knew that she needed to get out of here for a while.
 
Mark was messing with her head big time and she was confused and tired of it.

“You ok?”

She looked up as Billy sat down next to her, smiling that lovely, calming smile of his.

“Can I ask you something, Billy?”

“’Course you can.”

“How do you stick it out here with those three?
 
Don’t they just get to you sometimes?
 
I mean, you’re so different.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he smiled.
 

She smiled back.
 
“No.
 
I just don’t know how you put up with them because they drive me nuts.
 
Doesn’t Ava give you shit about it?”

“All the time, babe.
 
But she also understands that this was my dream and I’m not giving it up for anyone.
 
Not even her.
 
It gives me a chance to let the other side of me out to play sometimes.”

“At least you’ve
got
another side.
 
I’m not sure those three have.”

Billy looked at her.
 
“Have you spoken to Johnny?”

“I speak to him every day, Billy.”

“No, I mean,
really
spoken to him.”

“What are you talking about?”

He looked away, taking a drink from his bottle of lager.
 
“You should talk to him, that’s all.”

She sat back and tucked her legs up underneath her, watching Mark as he leant over the pool table, ready to take a shot.
 
He had the most perfect arse, and she wasn’t the only one watching him either.
 
He had the usual fan club hanging around, it was just a little strange that he wasn’t taking advantage of it.
 
Not that Jack was complaining.
 
He was quite happily picking up the overspill.