by SL Beaumont
Chapter 11
Ten minutes later, Stephanie pushed the door of the pub open. The smell of stale beer and roast meat hit her. She wrinkled her nose – these country pubs were so different to the modern city pubs that she enjoyed going to back home. However, it was crowded at ten o’clock on a Friday night and had a good vibe.
The band was playing. Stephanie scanned the room and saw Michael propped up on a stool at the bar with Mary and some other friends. They noticed her and waved her over. She took Sam’s hand. “Come and meet some friends of mine,” she called above the music.
She felt eyes on her as they crossed the room and she turned her head towards the stage. James was watching her as he played. He looked firstly at Sam and then down at his hand in Stephanie’s and raised an eyebrow. She hastily freed her hand and Sam instead put his arm around her waist and put his lips to her ear. “Hey, isn’t that The Fury? We saw them play in London in January, remember? – they’re really good,” he said loudly to be heard over the music.
“Yeah, they’re from around here,” she said, all of a sudden feeling very conscious of his hands on her and James’s eyes on them both. She glanced back at the stage. James looked away as he continued to play. Stephanie shook her head at him. Unbelievable – you were the one that pushed me away, she thought. They made their way through the crowded tables to where Michael and his friends were sitting.
“Hey, Steph. You managed to escape legal aid,” he said grinning.
Sam looked at her with an expression of mock surprise and said, “So that’s what we are to you?”
She giggled and pointedly turned her back to the band and introduced Sam to the group.
“What are you having Steph? G&T?” Sam asked, about to order her usual tipple.
“No. Glass of red – that New Zealand pinot would be good,” she said glancing at the blackboard behind the bar where the specials were written in chalk. She didn’t like it that Sam considered her so predictable that he could just order for her after all this time. The barman heard her and nodded, reaching for a glass and twisting the screw cap off the bottle.
“And a beer for me,” Sam added, indicating his choice. “Cheers. I’ll get these,” he said, as Stephanie went to hand him some cash. Sam paid the barman and handed her the drink, smiling.
“Sam’s an old friend of mine who’s interning at Dad’s firm before uni starts,” Stephanie explained to Michael, nodding her thanks to Sam at the same time.
Michael grinned and said, “So does that mean that you know where all the Cooper secrets are hidden?”
Sam laughed. “Yeah, whadda ya want to know?”
“Hey! I’m standing right here.” Stephanie looked from Michael to Sam, shaking her head, laughing.
“Is James still not speaking to you?” Michael asked, looking towards the stage.
“Huh – he’s being an arrogant little shit,” Stephanie replied.
“Who’s James?” Sam asked interested.
Stephanie nodded towards the stage. “The moody guitarist,” she said. James was looking in their direction as he harmonised with Liam.
Sam raised his eyebrows. A mixture of possessiveness and jealously crossed his face.
“A muso, Steph – what a surprise,” he muttered sarcastically. In a louder voice he asked, “What have you done to annoy him?”
“Long story, but put it this way, his family and mine have hated each other for more than seventy years and my generation doesn’t look like altering that,” she said sadly.
“Hey,” Sam said, changing the subject. “Wanna dance?” The Fury had just launched into its summer hit and people were flocking to the dance floor. She looked over at the stage again and saw Andy looking their way. He grinned and she gave him a little wave.
“Okay,” she smiled at Sam eagerly and followed him to the dance floor. They moved around each other in time to the music, bouncing up and down with the other dancers during the chorus. Stephanie didn’t dare look up at the stage again, but she was sure that she could feel James’s glare burning into her.
Stuff him, she thought as Sam caught her around the waist as the song ended. Around them the crowd clapped enthusiastically at the band.
“I had forgotten how much fun it was dancing with you,” Sam said still holding her. “You’ll have to have a weekend in London and we’ll go clubbing like we used to,” he called above the opening chords of the next song.
On stage, Liam glanced at James and followed the direction of his stare to where Sam and Stephanie were standing close together waiting for the next song to start. He grinned, seizing the chance to wind James up.
“Guys, let’s do the new one,” he called.
The song was a slower ballad. Sam’s hands remained on her waist as they swayed to the opening chords. Stephanie closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. This all seemed so familiar and comfortable. Before she realised what she was doing, she had twisted her hands around his neck and smiled up at him – then jumped back as a scream of feedback came from the stage. The music stopped abruptly.
“Sorry,” James muttered into his microphone. “Broke a string. We’ll take a break.”
Liam started laughing, watching the emotions emanate from James, Sam and Stephanie. Stephanie was shocked at her momentary lapse of control, Sam was delighted that she had responded to him and James’s fury was palpable. Liam caught James’s eye and winked.
“You bastard,” James mouthed at him, suddenly realising what Liam had done.
Sam turned back towards the bar where they had left their drinks with Michael. Stephanie looked up at the stage. The boys were jumping down and heading for the bar also. James threw his guitar off and glanced at her – a look of triumph. She glared back at him. He shrugged his shoulders innocently and indicated to his guitar. She looked down at it – not a broken string in sight.
“Huh,” she sneered at him, unimpressed. She spun around and stalked back to Sam and Michael.
As soon as she turned her back, James’s expression was replaced by a frown. “Who the hell is that guy with his hands all over Stephanie?” he quietly asked Andy. Andy shrugged.
Sam was chatting to Michael about his travels in South East Asia, with his arm loosely around Stephanie’s waist, his hand resting on her hip, when James leaned across her and grabbed the beer that the barman had placed for him on the bar.
“Cheers, mate,” James said, acknowledging the barman.
“Well that took ages to fix,” Stephanie said sarcastically as she turned towards him, wriggling out from under Sam’s arm. “Just as well you all took a break.”
“Yeah, the dance floor was getting rather crowded anyway,” he said, his eyes flashing. She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, trying to determine whether that was a snipe at her. Yeah, it probably was. They glared at each other for a few seconds until she bit her lip and he was undone by the softening of her gaze.
“Steph.”
“James.” They spoke over one another.
Sam spun around and tightened his arm possessively around her. “Hi, we haven’t met. I’m Sam,” he said.
”James.” James eyes flicked briefly to Sam, but he ignored his outstretched hand. “Steph, come and talk to me while I retune,” he implored, indicating towards the stage with the nod of his head.
Stephanie hesitated, not wanting to be petty, but also not wanting to be at his beck and call.
“Ah, sure. Back in a minute,” she said to Sam, who frowned and reluctantly watched her go. She followed James to the stage and sat on the edge while he reached for his guitar and fiddled with the frets. He looked down at her and held her gaze. She felt her heart give an extra thump.
Why does he do that to me – it’s not that I’m some little groupie, she thought, annoyed at herself.
“Who is he, Steph?” James asked quietly.
“An old friend who now works for my father,” she said.
James raised his eyebrow. “How convenient. I’ll bet Daddy’s pl
eased that his little angel isn’t hanging out with a Knox anymore,” he said bitterly.
“James – don’t,” she said quietly. She looked down at her hands, but couldn’t help hearing a ring of truth in his comments. Her father had been furious to hear that James had been at the house, especially when he realised that was who she was kissing in the driveway a few nights earlier, and was pleased to learn that they weren’t speaking. And then he had looked so smug, when he watched her sneaking off with Sam after dinner.
“I’m sorry we argued, Steph,” James said in an odd voice.
“You have a funny way of showing it,” Stephanie replied, still feeling hurt at his behaviour over the past week.
“Look, I know I’m stubborn and I hate to back down – but I have to tell you something. There’s more to this family feud than either of us knows, and you really don’t want to go there,” he said. “Sometimes the past is better left where it is – in the past. OK?”
“Hey – how’s that string going?” Sam interrupted them. Stephanie jumped up rather guiltily. James glared at him.
Sam put his hand on Stephanie’s shoulder. “I hate to do this, but I’ve got a fairly early start in the morning, do you think we can go back now?” He smiled persuasively at her.
“Sure, absolutely,” she replied quickly.
“Yeah, you could do with your beauty sleep. But I’m sure you can get a taxi or something – Stephanie and I haven’t finished talking,” James said, straightening up, his posture challenging.
“Beauty sleep? I’m not the one on stage wearing makeup,” Sam countered condescendingly.
Stephanie shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other as the two guys stared at one another, neither backing down.
“Sam, let’s get my bag,” she said tugging his arm. But he didn’t move. He and James were glaring at each other, hostility rolling off them in waves. Reluctantly she walked back towards the bar on her own, where Michael was looking at her questioningly.
“What’s going on, Steph?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes. “Chest beating and marking of territory,” she said sighing.
“Oh hell.” Michael looked past her. “Well, someone just overstepped the boundary.” She swung around, following his gaze in time to see Sam shove James with both hands, knocking him backwards onto the stage. James steadied himself against the edge and then launched himself forward into Sam, knocking him to the ground. Stephanie’s view was obscured by a sea of bodies rushing past to watch the fight. Andy and Dave pulled James off and the barman held Sam back, while Liam stood grinning from ear to ear.
“Okay, you two – that’s enough.” The barman turned to Liam and said, “Time to start your next set.” He looked at Sam. “You – out.”
Stephanie found herself being pulled to the door by Sam. She looked back over her shoulder at James. Victoria had appeared from somewhere and had her arms around him, gently brushing his hair out of his eyes. She caught Stephanie’s eye and gave her a triumphant look. Stephanie felt a cold knot around her heart.
Outside, she looked at Sam, blood streaming from his nose. She turned on him –
“What the hell was that all about?” she shouted.
“Dunno – little bastard just leapt at me,” Sam said innocently.
“What – after you shoved him, eh? You are pathetic, both of you.” She stomped towards her car and unlocked it. Sam slid into the passenger seat, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
“Get blood on my car and I’ll beat you myself,” she muttered. They drove back to the house in silence.
