by Nina Kaye
‘Where are we off to?’ I ask, as I slide into the passenger seat of his car.
‘Patient one, you are.’ He chuckles. ‘Hi to you too.’
‘Sorry. I’m just intrigued. Hi.’ I lean over and meet him halfway for a slow, sensual kiss. He puts his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me towards him longingly.
‘Any clues at all?’ I ask again as we pull apart.
‘Let’s just say it’ll be a lively evening. You did have something to eat, didn’t you?’
‘Just as you instructed me to.’
‘Good.’
He puts the car into gear and pulls away. We drive for about ten minutes, but not being that familiar with Birmingham’s roads, I have little sense of where we’re going. My best guess would be that we appear to be skirting round the perimeter of the city centre. Matt eventually pulls into a space in a multistorey car park and turns to me.
‘It’s about a five-minute walk from here.’
‘And it is…?’
‘So close now, you may as well wait and find out.’
I exhale impatiently. ‘I’m not good with surprises.’
‘Clearly. It will be worth it. Promise.’
We get out of the car and head out of the car park onto a street-lit road.
‘This is the Newtown area of the city,’ he explains. ‘You’re unlikely to have been over this way.’
I look around me. It seems to be a more industry-focused area of the city, with red-brick factory-style buildings and grey steel shutters covering garage doorways, sporting the words ‘no parking’ in white spray paint. We walk hand in hand, silently, mirroring the calmness of the empty dark streets.
‘Gosh, this is a bit creepy,’ I joke. ‘Maybe I should have vetted you before agreeing to this. You could be some psycho and I’m merrily trotting along beside you to my untimely death.’
‘Crime drama fan, per chance?’ He gives me an amused sideways look.
‘That’s me. Think I prefer the fictional stuff though. True crime is a bit morbid, knowing it’s really happened. Makes me feel like a voyeuristic weirdo at a crime scene.’
‘I know what you mean. Ah, here we are.’
Matt stops outside a nondescript building and presses the buzzer by the doorway.
‘Hello?’ A crackling voice comes through the intercom.
‘Hi, it’s Matt. Sammy would have mentioned I’m coming along tonight.’
‘Come on in, mate.’
The door unlocks and we step inside.
‘What is this place?’ I ask, as live band music starts to filter along the corridor. ‘Is this one of these underground bars with a “members only” policy?’
‘You’ll see.’
Matt leads me along the corridor until we’re right outside the room the music’s coming from. It’s very loud and I can’t help wondering how small this bar is; it sounds like the band’s right behind the door. Matt pulls me in for a quick and intoxicating lip-smacking kiss, then opens it and beckons for me to follow him inside. As we enter, I realise it’s not a bar at all, but some kind of rehearsal studio. We move across to the other side of the room and take a seat at a small table.
‘Is this your friend’s band?’ I have to shout to be heard over the punchy rock music.
‘It sure is. Like them?’
‘They’re brilliant.’
I tap my foot to the beat until the song finishes and when they wrap up, we give them a mini round of applause. The lead guitarist turns and bounds across to us, giving Matt a blokey handshake and an affectionate slap on the shoulder. He has a friendly face and hair like Bob Marley.
‘Matt, mate, good to see you. Didn’t notice you sneak in just then.’ He turns to me. ‘And I remember you from the karaoke bar. How could I not?’
‘I thought you looked familiar,’ I reply. ‘Great to meet you.’
‘You too. And these guys here are Simms, Carter and Andy.’
I give a friendly wave to the other members of the band, and they wave back casually.
‘Are you here to “audition”?’ He gives me a hopeful wink.
‘Not that I’m aware of. Although now you mention it… Matt, why are we here?’
A guilty look spreads across Matt’s face. ‘I know you said you’ve got too much going on, but as your childhood dream was to be a singer, I didn’t see the harm in letting you have a taste of the magic.’
My stomach immediately does a somersault and I can’t tell whether it’s because I’m touched by Matt’s incredibly thoughtful gesture, or if it’s a premature dose of stage fright.
‘No pressure, eh? I’ve never been in a rehearsal studio before. Closest I’ve got to singing with a band is “bandaoke”, but even then, I had the words in front of me.’
‘We’ve got lyrics sheets.’ Sammy points to the drummer (Carter, if I’ve got it right), who holds up a folder. ‘How about you listen to a couple more tracks, warm your voice up by singing along, then you can see how you feel? Want a beer?’
‘Oh, no, thanks, I’m fine. I guess that sounds OK.’ I look to Matt for reassurance and he gives me an encouraging nod.
As Sammy rejoins the band, Matt leans across the table and grabs my hand. ‘You OK with this? You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to. But you’re so good, it would be a shame to waste the opportunity.’
‘Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something?’ I narrow my eyes at him playfully.
‘I’m not. I just genuinely want you to have an experience.’
I keep my suspicious eye on him a moment longer, then turn towards the band as they launch into a perfect rendition of ‘Sex on Fire’ by the Kings of Leon. The buzz of the music is contagious and before I know it, I’m enthusiastically singing along. One song rolls into another, with T-Rex, Arctic Monkeys and Pulp featuring on the playlist. Eventually they wrap up once again and Sammy bounds back across to us.
‘What do you think, Alex?’
‘I think you guys are amazing! Do you do your own stuff too?’
‘We do. We mix covers into our sets with some of our own stuff. Tends to go down well.’ He shoots me a grin. ‘Ready for a shot? We’ve got the Killers lined up for you.’
The stomach flip returns. I look to Matt, who nods again.
‘OK, then. Suppose now I’m here I can’t pass up the opportunity.’
I get up from my seat and follow Sammy across to the microphone. He hoists his guitar strap back over his head and turns to me.
‘We’ll stick as close to the original as we can. You’re on straight after the second note, remember.’
I nod mutely, tap the microphone a couple of times to get a sense of its volume, and take a deep breath to calm my now trembling body.
A piano-like, haunting pling comes from the keyboard, and I start to sing the opening lines, which, with almost no instrumental accompaniment, make me feel very exposed indeed. Momentarily, I’m transported back to the karaoke bar, when my confidence initially wavered. This time I don’t get over it quite so quickly. Having Matt listening to me, I feel like I’m on show. I glance back towards him, and he gives me two huge thumbs up, mouthing ‘go for it’.
I continue my way through the first verse, setting no one and nothing alight, but as the band launch into the chorus, the music and emotion finally consume me, allowing me to lose myself in the song. The band are full of approving expressions and encouraging nods as I move through the song’s climax to the calmer ‘outro’. As they play the closing notes, Matt stands up behind me and whoops and claps, and is quickly joined by all the band members.
‘That was incredible.’ Sammy hops across to me and gives me his friendly slap on the shoulder. ‘You’re a natural. Took you a moment to get going, but once you did…’ He gives an impressed whistle.
‘What he said,’ Matt calls out jovially, as he wanders over and gives me a squeezy sideways hug. ‘How did it feel, Alex?’
I do a quick self-check. The jangling nerves that consumed me before I started to s
ing have dissipated completely. I’m now feeling surging adrenaline and an unquellable urge to keep going. I look at Sammy hopefully.
‘Can we do another one?’
‘That’s the spirit.’ He gives me another friendly shoulder slap. ‘Right, lads. Let’s put Alex through her paces.’
‘Go for it.’ Matt smiles at me and plants a firm kiss on my lips that, in my heightened state, reverberates through me, feeling like a million fireworks have exploded in my body.
I turn back to the microphone, where I’m handed a lyrics sheet. The band kicks into the intro of another Killers song: ‘Somebody Told Me’. As the pounding music fills the room, I can’t help but move to the beat of the music, and within moments I’m lost again.
An hour and a half later, after some more challenging and less familiar pieces where I needed guidance from the band, we finish up for the evening.
‘That was one of the best nights ever. Thank you so much for organising it.’
I lean over and kiss Matt, who, due to his height, isn’t that much shorter than me in his seated position. He puts his arms round my waist, pulls me onto his lap and kisses me deeply. My whole body tingles in response.
‘All right, break it up. Nobody wants to see that,’ Sammy jokes. ‘Especially when they don’t have a girl of their own to do it with.’
Matt and I pull apart, laughing, and I feel myself redden.
‘Sorry, it must be the music.’
‘I’m just joshing.’ Sammy gives me a cheeky wink. ‘Listen, Alex, that lead vocalist slot is yours if you want it. I know you’ve said you’ve a lot on, but mate, you should not be wasting that voice. Right guys?’
There’s enthusiastic collective agreement from the rest of the band.
I glance at Matt, who simply shrugs, signalling his agreement with the others. What to do? My heart is screaming ‘do it’, but my head knows better: one thing too much and all the dominos could topple. I don’t understand my condition enough yet to know how it will behave. What I do know is that my stamina isn’t what it was.
At the same time, it has been such a buzz being here tonight. I feel so energised. Maybe I’m looking at this all in the wrong way. People who stay focused and determined often fare well. You read inspirational stories like this all the time. I obviously can’t beat my MS, but who’s to say I can’t benefit from this state of mind?
Matt and Sammy are scrutinising my expression, trying to work out what’s going through my mind.
‘What’s the time commitment?’ I ask.
‘Rehearsals once a week – just like this – and gigs most weekends,’ says Sammy.
‘Do you have a backup singer? Just in case?’
‘I’ve been doing the singing recently. Nowhere near as good as you, but I’m well enough received. It would be no problem if you couldn’t make the odd gig.’
I mull this over for a second. ‘OK, how about I join you on a trial basis and we see how it goes?’
‘We’ve got a good one, lads.’ Sammy whoops. ‘Welcome to the band, Alex.’
There’s a collective cheer as the rest of the band members click beer bottles and toast me. I suddenly realise something.
‘Wait, what are you guys called? Who am I joining?’
‘We, Alex, are Capital Parade.’ Sammy puffs his chest up proudly.
‘I love that. Thank you for having me.’
As Sammy joins the other band members to continue the bottle-clinking, Matt squeezes me round the waist. ‘I’m so pleased you’re in. For you, because you should be making the most of that voice. But also because I can be your groupie. I can run you to rehearsals if you like.’
I’m simultaneously relieved by this offer and filled with a rising excitement. But it sinks like a lead weight the moment I realise something: have I just inadvertently signed up to a future with Matt? If so, what does that mean for me and Dom? And has this decision to join the band and accept lifts to rehearsals been too premature, given we’re only on date three and he doesn’t know who I really am?
Chapter 27
Over the next few weeks, I manage to successfully juggle the three main elements of my new life in Birmingham: my revitalised career; my utterly delicious, blossoming romance with Matt, which has now moved through all the bases (and to be clear, I don’t mean we’ve been playing baseball); and weekly rehearsals with one of the city’s hottest semi-pro bands. It’s a near perfect picture, apart from three other things: my MS, which is like an unwelcome shadow, though I try to ignore it and continue swimming a couple of times a week as a way of managing my fatigue; the fact that I haven’t yet told Matt about either my MS or about Dom; and knowing that Dom, back in Glasgow, is waiting for an answer.
On the night of my debut appearance with the band, I’m in the ladies’ toilets of a trendy venue off New Street – nerves cutting through me like a street drill – when it all finally catches up with me. My throat starts to tighten, my breathing becoming shallow and strained. My brain simply cannot cope with the emotional complexities of my personal life, alongside this imminently terrifying experience of walking out on stage in front of hundreds of people. Unable to get my breathing under control, I pull my phone out of my handbag and dial Sasha.
‘Hi, you.’ Her bouncy tone carries down the line like a soothing tonic. ‘I thought you’d be on stage by now, taking Birmingham by storm.’
I manage a strangled laugh. ‘I’m due on in fifteen minutes… supposed to be warming up but instead I’m hiding in the toilets. I’m totally freaking out, Sash.’
‘Oh, honey, you’ll be fine. You’ll be amazing. I know it must be nerve-racking but—’
‘That doesn’t even begin to describe it. I don’t think there’s a word to express how I feel right now. Frightened… terrified… petrified. None of them seem close. And to top it off, my mind has gone into overdrive over all the other stuff I’m trying to work through.’
‘You mean the Matt versus Dom showdown.’
‘Interesting description. But, yes. That and the fact that Matt still doesn’t know about my MS. Or Dom.’
There’s a short pause at the end of the phone. ‘OK, Lex, I’m going to do two things to help you. The first is tell you to take some slow deep breaths—’
‘That’s normally my advice to you.’
‘Well, are you walking the walk right now?’
‘What? I’m just… um… I guess not. Still, I could have thought of that.’
‘Yet you didn’t.’
‘True.’
‘I learned from the best, Lex. You. Now, are you ready for my next trick?’
I lean forward against the sink unit, taking slow deep breaths, just as I’ve counselled Sasha to do so many times in the past. ‘Go on.’
‘It’s very simple. I’m going to give you a massive reassuring hug.’
‘Down the phone?’ I glance at the illuminated screen in confusion.
As I’m waiting for a response, the door to the ladies’ opens and Sasha’s voice comes from right behind me.
‘You can’t hug down a phone, dafty.’
I spin round and see her standing right in front of me, all goofy grin and wild red hair.
‘You’re here? What the… how…?’ I dive into her arms and we squeeze each other tight for a good thirty seconds.
‘I thought you could do with the moral support,’ says Sasha once we’ve pulled apart. ‘I know Matt’s here, but it’s still early days for you guys. Not the same as a bestie.’
‘Damn right. I can’t believe you came all the way down here for this.’
‘Well… I can’t honestly say it was just for this gig. I was going to tell you when I saw you later – I got the job. Have a couple of apartment viewings booked for tomorrow before I head home.’
My hand shoots to my mouth. ‘You’re really moving here? Like, really really?’
‘You never thought I’d do it, did you?’
‘I… um… argh, I can’t lie to you. I hoped you would. But I figured, you’re
a nester, you’d eventually decide to stay where you were.’
‘No reason to now.’ Her lips tremble ever so slightly. ‘It was my mum that held me back from doing anything more adventurous. Filling my head with total BS, just so she would have me around to wait on her like a skivvy. Nah-uh. I’m claiming back my life.’
‘This is amazing, Sash.’ I rub my forehead, still trying to digest this fantastic news, then a thought comes to me. ‘Wait, what’s going on here? I’m supposed to be the rational, practically minded one who doesn’t get in a flap.’
‘I know, right?’ Sasha giggles. ‘And I’m normally the irrational, panicky one who’s paralysed by indecision over the slightest thing.’
‘Has there been some weird kind of spell put on us?’
‘Maybe. Or maybe we just all have good and bad moments in life. As I said, I learned from the best.’
‘I don’t feel like the best right now, Sash.’ I switch on the cold tap, plunging my wrists under it once more in a bid to calm my racing pulse. ‘I feel like Birmingham’s soon-to-be shortest-lived lead vocalist ever. And that’s just the problems of the next few hours. Beyond that, with Matt, Dom… I can’t even compute it.’
‘So, don’t. You can’t do anything about the guys right now. Just focus on the next few hours and enjoy the experience. The stage fright will pass. Lose yourself in the music and let your brain figure the rest out for you.’
I switch off the tap and look at her, appreciating her in this moment more than I ever have. ‘You’re so right, Sash. Thank you for turning up when I needed you the most. And now, I’m going to politely ask you to turn round and walk back out the door so I can fit in some last-minute voice warmups. But I can’t wait to see you again later.’
‘Me neither. Break a leg.’ She gives me a final hug, plants a kiss on my cheek and disappears back out of the toilets.
I turn back to the mirror and focus on getting myself calm and into balance. Thank goodness for Sasha turning up like that. She’s probably just saved me from a full-on meltdown. Sash and Lex. Propping each other up since ninety-three.
