All Right Now

by Madelynne Ellis

  Ash watched her reflection in the mirror, as her mouth dropped open and horror made the whisky-gold of her eyes brighten. Check. Nothing on the shelf. Check: Nothing in the bin. Check… She bent over towards the toilet. “Oh Jeezus, no! You have got to be fucking kidding me. All your medication! Everything?”

  “Yeah,” he replied, unable to stop a smirk from curling up the corners of his mouth.

  Ginny’s expression scrunched into one of confusion. “Ash, what are you playing at? Why would you do this? You need this stuff to help you get better.”

  But he didn’t. All the pills did was numb him. They provided a mask, not a cure by blocking the receptors that told his brain it hurt. The other shit was more of the same.

  “They don’t help, and I’m not fucking taking them.” He was so done with blindly obeying medical practitioners. They didn’t know him. They didn’t care to know him. Therefore, how could they possibly know what was in his best interests? All they did was make sweeping judgements and sign open-ended cheques to the drug companies.

  “Christ!” She covered her eyes with one splayed hand. “This is madness, Ash. I just don’t understand… I mean, I do. I get it that you’re upset. You’ve had some shitty news right on top of what was already a grim situation, but this,” she waved towards the toilet. “This is self-sabotage. Don’t you want to be well?”

  Of course he did. That’s exactly why he was taking matters into his own hands.

  Ash flushed the toilet again, before Ginny got any ideas about trying to rescue stuff. “Ginny, all the pills do is switch off parts of my brain. I happen to think there’s enough of it not working properly already.”

  “But what about the icicles in your fingers? What happens the next time you have the sort of spasm that leaves you curled up in agony?”

  “I’ll deal.” He’d only swallowed a fraction of the number of pills she’d thought he’d taken anyway. “Ginny, I’m not interested in being numb.”

  He’d been there before, and he wasn’t going back, not when rock bottom was right around the corner. It didn’t matter how many times Spook and Xane reassured him otherwise, he knew his days with Black Halo were numbered if he couldn’t fix himself. Six months would pass in the blink of an eye, and in reality it was closer to five. If he couldn’t tour, then they’d cut him from the line-up. That, or the band would break up. Regardless of which scenario it was, he’d end up stuffed. The other guys would move on to new bands and new projects, but he’d probably have to go crawling back to academia and become a professor or something. That was the only other possibility besides guitarist he could do with his set of qualifications.

  And honestly, he didn’t much fancy it. He liked life on the road, and touring, and being screamed over. He was pretty sure no one would do that over a study about some obscure bit of social history.

  “I still say this is insane.”

  “Why is it insane not to want to fill my body with crap?”

  She was still eyeing the brown floater. Ash slammed down the lid and planted his arse on top of it. He hit the flush again.

  Ginny shook her head. “I’m not convinced you’ve thought this through. You’ve had a shock and you’re just reacting.” She speared him with her gaze. “Maybe the doc was right, and you do need to speak to someone.”

  Spook had obviously relayed the whole encounter.

  “She only said that because she thinks I deliberately overmedicated. Are you saying that’s what you think too?”

  Ginny covered her mouth, and turned away from him, as though she intended to pace, only there wasn’t space. Half a step and she was by the door. Her hand stalled upon the handle, and she looked back at him over her shoulder. “No, that isn’t what I think. I know Iain was responsible. Anyone who knows you knows the truth. No one thinks you’re a druggie, Ash.”

  Except for the half of the world that absolutely did. They’d read it was so in the newspapers.

  Ginny turned, putting her back to the door. “Look, is this what this is about? Do you imagine we’re all judging you? That’s not the case.” Her expression softened. “All any of us want is for you to recover.”

  She rubbed her hand across her face as if consumed by sudden weariness. Then she went back into the bedroom. Ash followed after a couple of seconds had passed. He found her sitting on the edge of the daybed, staring out of the window at the middle-distance.

  “I can look into other means of controlling the spasms,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  “And I can work at the guitar. It’ll be like when I was first teaching myself, and I was trying to convince my folks to send me for proper lessons.”

  She nodded, but it was crazy obvious that she didn’t put any faith in his plans.

  Ash hung back from the bed a way, not sure what to do or say to make her understand. This was the only option he had. He had to take control of the situation, instead of drifting along, being told what to do by one person after another. Black Halo was his life. Without it, he was nothing, and that meant he’d cling on as hard as he possibly could. Why couldn’t she grasp that’s what his actions were aimed at accomplishing? They weren’t simply a by-product of rage.

  It took a couple more minutes for him to realise that she only had half the story. Crazy that two people could be in a relationship for months and not be aware of the critical aspects of a person’s life. He guessed that highlighted how shallow their relationship was. He could pinpoint every pleasure-point on her body, but he couldn’t tell you her parent’s names, or the name of the guy she’d been the most serious about in the past. The one who’d abandoned her.

  Likewise, her knowledge about his past was also lacking.

  He just didn’t enjoy talking about that stuff. Only sometimes…sometimes, you had to offer people a glimpse so that they could grasp the bigger picture.

  Aw-shit! He didn’t want to, but he guessed they had to do this now.

  -8-

  “My first mum was an addict.”

  “What?” Ginny turned to stare at Ash, at first thinking she’d misheard him. She hadn’t. Even with his expression masked by his hair, it was impossible not to register his discomfort. His arms were defensively wrapped around his upper body, his shoulders hunched. Actually, he looked like his whole body wanted to curl in on itself. Also, first mum? That descriptive suggested a worrying amount of emotional baggage all on its own.

  “Addicted to what?”

  She almost didn’t want to hear the answer.

  “Pills. Painkillers, I think. I don’t know what specifically, only that she took a heck of a lot of them.” He slumped onto the bed beside her.

  Ginny reached across and clasped his hand where it was resting on his lap. She gave it a good hard squeeze. What the hell did she say?

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea.” How could you know something like that? “Do you fear you’re going to end up the same?”

  There she went cutting to the chase, when she probably ought to have held her tongue for a bit and let him spill everything at his own pace.

  Ash shrugged. “I’ve had one near brush in the past. I’d rather not go through it again.”

  “The pills you’ve been taking, you’ve been prescribed for a reason.”

  He disentangled his hand from her grasp, and gave her a wan, uncomfortable smile. “There’s always a reason, Ginny. She had a reason too. Plenty of reasons. Everyone at least starts out with a reason, that’s how addiction works. It’s a slippery slope, and one I’d rather not slide along. I’ve worked enough to get myself into shape, without adding additional burdens to the task.”

  “So, your answer is not to take anything, even if it’s beneficial and could help you get back into shape? Ash, just because one doctor made an assumption about you doesn’t mean you should write off the whole profession.”

  “Being in shape doesn’t involve a reliance on medication.”

  “Doctors don’t dole out drugs for kicks.” Not generally. There were certainly one or
two in the pockets of the drug companies. “Look, I can understand you wanting to cut out the painkillers, given what you’ve just said. I can see they come with a lot of negative connotations for you, but the rest? You don’t think any of it might be important? Not even the iron tablets, or the vitamin D?”

  “I’ll eat healthily and engage in plenty of exercise. I can’t see that either thing will be terribly difficult, since Spook’s in charge of the menus and we’re sharing a room.”

  She blinked a few times. What had sharing a room to do with maintaining a healthy lifestyle, unless he meant she’d catch him out if he tried to sneak extra snacks, or binge drink beer? So far, he was off the alcohol altogether. Oh…hang on, yeah… She was slow today. Sex, he was talking about them having lots of it. It was technically exercise, but certainly not of the physio approved variety.

  “We could start right away.”

  Oh no, he wasn’t slipping his way out of having the rest of this conversation so easily. She reached for his hand again. “You said your first mum. I’m assuming that’s not the woman you call mum now, or the woman Spook’s been calling with updates about your health?”

  Ash scowled, but she waited patiently for an answer. “That’s my adoptive mother. My brother and I moved in with her and Dad when I was five and he was seven. We’d been in foster care for a couple of years prior to that.”

  “Because of your real—”

  Ash shook his head.

  “—your birth mum’s addiction?”

  “Social services considered us as being high risk. I think one of the neighbours or a friend must have shopped her. I don’t know, maybe it was the pharmacist. She used to give us this magic potion—cough syrup or something. It made us sleep. I’m pretty sure we weren’t horrid tearaways or anything, but apparently having two small boys was too much to deal with.”

  “Ash, whatever she did wasn’t your fault. You were just a kid.”

  He gave a decisive nod, which granted her a brief glimpse of his face. Hurt lay etched into the hollows beneath his eyes and the lines around his mouth. No wonder he was convinced he was never good enough. All the people who’d mattered to him had abandoned him; his birth mother, the girlfriend he’d got down on his knees for, his former best friend. She wouldn’t do that to him though. She’d stick with him through this, and prove to him that not everyone was quite so fucking awful.

  Ginny stamped down hard on the ugly thought that she was every bit as bad as all those people for keeping secrets, but it wasn’t the same. She wasn’t about to leave him. In fact, one of the reasons she hadn’t said anything was so that she could ensure she was here for him. Who knew how he’d react?

  “Hug?” She snuggled him up close, wrapping her arms around him, and allowing him to rest his head against her chest. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, but at least you ended up with someone who wanted you.”

  “I did, yes.” He brightened a little. “I found you.”

  That wasn’t what she meant. “And your adoptive parents.”

  He nodded. “Yes, the Gores are great people; very patient, very understanding and supportive. My mum’s the band’s biggest fan, even though she hates loud music.” He brushed his lips against a bare bit of skin above her left breast. “I guess I have the band too, at least for the moment.”

  Always, she wanted to say, but bit her tongue.

  “I always thought Gore was a stage name. Something you’d chosen to fit the group’s image.”

  Ash nodded sagely. “Everyone does.” He nuzzled against her breast some more. “I guess that’ll make you Gee Gee when we get hitched.”

  Oh fuck!

  Ginny inwardly winced, her body recoiling away from Ash’s, though she fought to keep her expression schooled into neutrality. Every now and then Ash would hint at the idea of them getting hitched and completely wrong foot her. It was way too soon to be making that sort of commitment, even knowing she was already his until death do us part. But that was Ash, the hopeless romantic for you. At his core, he wanted nothing more than love and security.

  She peeped down at him and the dreamy expression on his face told her exactly where his mind had wandered. Off to a rambling country house filled with scores of children. It wasn’t something she could give him, yet. Maybe not ever.

  A big loving family might be Ash’s dream, but it wasn’t hers. Her focus was on independence, not reliance, and in any case, her dreams barely extended beyond the end of each month, let alone years into the future.

  Ash seemed to sense her internal dilemma, for he lifted his head up and peered at her quizzically. “Don’t you want to be my Gee Gee?”

  “Gee Gee,” she huffed. “That sounds like you intend to have me crawl around on all fours while you ride me bare back and whirl a lasso around your head.”

  A twinkle lit up his eyes. “You’re not up for some horseplay, then?”

  He was back on the subject of sex, while she was still processing the revelations about his past, and the fact he’d flushed all his medications down the loo.

  Too agitated to remain still any longer, Ginny rose and padded over to the window. “What’s your brother’s name?” she asked. It struck her as curious that she’d been unaware he had one, yet she could name Xane’s siblings and his cousin, and all of Spook’s sisters.

  “What do you want to know for?”

  Because it was his brother, obviously. “Curiosity. You’ve never mentioned him before today. Don’t you get along?”

  Ash scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Auto,” he barked.

  “Say what?”

  “It’s his name.”

  “Auto. Ashley and Auto?”

  “Daz Auto,” he amended. “Daz Automatic. You’ve never heard of that? It’s a washing powder. It was his nickname when we were small.”

  “So his real name is—”

  “—Darren.” He shook his head as if he found it incomprehensible that she hadn’t figured that out.

  “Well, whatever he’s called, you’ve never mentioned him. How come?”

  Ash did some more irritable scratching, and refused to make eye contact with her. “No point, that’s why. It’s not like he’s around.”

  So, he’d abandoned Ash too, by the sounds of it.

  “He signed up the moment he was old enough. Swore he’d be back before I knew it. He died in a training accident.”

  Oh fuck! Yeah, the more of the picture she caught sight of, the better she understood why Ash had the issues he did.

  “He died?” She wheezed, her throat clogged with emotion.

  Ash gave a perfunctory nod. “There—now you know it all. My whole sordid family history. Do you want to spill about yours?”

  This was her opportunity; he’d offered her an open invitation to blurt it all out. Ginny kept her lips tightly buttoned. Sure, she could open up if she wanted to end them here and now. Or she could be sensible and keep a little back.

  “I don’t have any siblings. My mother’s on marriage number four, I think. Dad died in a drink driving accident. He was the drunk driver. No one else got hurt, thankfully. He was a good man, even if he wasn’t a sensible one. Things got pretty crazy for a while after he died. My mother and I don’t see eye to eye anymore. We haven’t spoken in three years, and I’m in no hurry to pick up the phone.”

  Having allowed it all to gush out in one breath, Ginny sucked in some air. Ash met her gaze and gave her a curt nod.

  “I’m sorry about your dad, and about things being strained with your mum too. It’s difficult not to have a family to rely upon.”

  “I have you,” she said. “At least, I hope I do.” She went to him and gave him a tight hug. “Ash, I’ve sat by your bedside. It wasn’t fun, and it isn’t something I want to have to do again. You have to take care of yourself. Do you have a repeat prescription?”

  “Ginny,” he grumbled, layering a warning into his tone.

  “Do you?”

  “They’re gone. Flushed. That’s the end of
it. There’s no negotiating this. We’re not running to the chemist.”

  “But—”

  “My health, my decision. You need to accept that I know what’s best for me. Can you do that?”

  Ginny rubbed her eyes. It didn’t seem she was likely to have a choice in that.

  -9-

  25th September, Spook’s Island.

  “Are you coming over to the studio?” Dani asked, breezing past Ginny in a floaty spider-print summer dress. Now that Dani, Xane, and Luthor had figured things out between them, Dani had started filling her days by eavesdropping on the creation of the new Black Halo album.

  “Soon,” Ginny promised. “I just have a couple of things to do first.”

  Operation Ann ought to have progressed by now, but instead the response to her near daily enquires was an unchanging “No news.”

  “Okay, I’ll save you a spot.”

  Dani meant on the stairs, as the guys didn’t allow anyone not directly involved in the production access to the inner sanctum of the recording studio while they were working.

  “Thanks,” Ginny waved her friend off across the lawn, then headed out of the building via the side door. There was a little well she’d discovered not far from the northern tip of the building on the edge of the woods that had surprisingly good phone reception. It was from there she now made most of her phone calls.

  “Any developments?” she enquired, expecting the usual response, and hence having only half an ear to the phone.

  “Yes and no. We’re over the statutory time limits allocated for a response, even allowing for overseas residency.”

  The butterflies she’d been watching, suddenly took flight, as flutters filled her gullet too. “What does that actually mean?”

  “It means that as there’s no way of establishing whether the documents have been received, they’ll have to be re-sent.”

  This was a delaying tactic on the part of the recipient, she had no doubt about that. Sure, post sometimes went astray, but she’d put money on hers having arrived just fine, and simply having been ignored. “So we sit for another thirty days, and then what happens, another copy and another thirty days? He could stretch this out for eternity, and would. This can’t be our only recourse.”