Fallen for Rock

by Wells, Nicky

  ‘If you’re serious, I’m sure that can be arranged,’ I announced at length.

  ‘Don’t push me, Emily,’ Dave growled, revealing for the first time the iron man behind the smooth exterior.

  Okay. Thin ice. Time to pull back a little.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I offered sincerely. ‘I didn’t mean to push. I was simply trying not to jump up and down with excitement.’

  ‘You’re permitted to jump up and down with excitement.’ Dave reverted to his jovial self. ‘It’s a big deal. I do like a reaction of sorts, you know.’

  ‘Well, if it’s a reaction you’re after…’ I grinned inanely. ‘I can give you a reaction. How’s this?’ I lifted my fists high in the air, pulled them down sharply and let out a high-pitched squeal of delight. Corny, right? But it felt good. Dave burst out laughing.

  ‘That’s better. Now, did you say Mike was here?’

  ‘He is. In fact, he’s coming over now.’ I beckoned to Mike, who had been watching at the bar, and he walked over smartly. I rose, as did Dave.

  ‘Dave, this is Mike Loud.’ Figuring the moment for squealing exuberance had passed, I spoke briskly and business-like. ‘Mike, this is Dave Kline. He’s listened to your demo and would like to keep it. And, I assume, he’d like some more. Congratulations.’

  Mike’s face was a picture. He turned pale behind his sunglasses, and he was speechless for a second. I gestured for him to remove his disguises, and he blushed.

  ‘Gosh, Dave, thank you. Wow!’ He pulled off his wig and took off his sunglasses. With a boyish grin, he mussed his hair to get it to stand up a bit. ‘Sorry about this.’ He waved the wig about and dropped it on the table. ‘I totally forgot.’

  ‘The old disguise trick,’ Dave snorted with laughter. ‘It worked. No wonder I didn’t recognise you. But do sit.’

  He lowered his bottom in his chair, and Mike and I followed suit.

  The next half an hour was among the most surreal in my life. Mike and Dave were courting each other, there was no other way to describe it. Both knew they wanted something from each other, and both were too wary to come out with it. I wanted to knock their heads together, but of course I did do no such thing. Instead, I adopted my tried-and-tested business mediator mode, directing the conversation into fruitful channels when it threatened to stall and generally keeping the mood light.

  Yes, me. Emily Trenden. Really, who could have predicted that all this business experience would come in so very useful in a completely different world? That I would sit in a small pub and help lay out the terms of the rock management deal of the century in its roughest original format right there and then?

  And already it was all over. Mike and Dave set a time to meet at Dave’s office the following Monday. They shook hands, Dave and I shook hands, Dave pocketed my card, Mike and Dave exchanged telephone numbers, and Dave left. Fallen For Rock had secured the most powerful manager there was, just like that.

  ‘Not just like that,’ Mike contradicted me on the way home. ‘Because you worked your own brand of magic. This is unheard of. I still can’t quite believe it. Tell me again how you managed to get to talk to him?’

  I shrugged happily and obediently launched into my tale again. Mike shook his head.

  ‘You do realise that if I’d gone up to him and introduced myself, he’d have given me the brush-off, right?’

  ‘No, he wouldn’t. He was keen on you, I could tell.’

  ‘That may be, but he would never have talked to me like that, right there. He would have made me work for it.’

  I snorted. ‘He certainly made me work for it. I’ve never died so many proverbial deaths in such a short time.’

  ‘You did great,’ Mike repeated. ‘I’m stunned. Fallen For Rock is really going to happen.’

  ‘Hold your horses,’ I reminded him. ‘You still need a guitarist.’

  ‘I know. But I have high hopes for the chap I want to suss out next week. And we’ve got the bassist and drummer on board already.’

  While I was busy dancing with Dave, Mike had managed to lure the drummer away from the band and invited him to join Fallen For Rock. I gathered the conversation went very much like Mike’s and Dave’s except in reverse, with the drummer in awe and Mike calling the shots. So Luke was ‘in’, and Mike was delighted.

  Of course, everything would remain a little up in the air until Mike could get everyone together to see if they would click, but he was confident he was on the right track. His excitement was palpable.

  ‘It’s really going to happen, Emily,’ he kept repeating. ‘It really is!’

  ‘Of course it is,’ I echoed him. ‘Did you have any doubts?’

  ‘No, of course not. But planning something and seeing it come to life so quickly…it’s amazing. And Iron Dave! In my wildest dreams I wouldn’t have dared to hope that Iron Dave would sign me or my band.’

  ‘You deserve it, Mike. You really do. Your music says it all.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ he whispered.

  ‘Artists.’ I rolled my eyes and decided to tease him a little. ‘You’ve got such vulnerable, fragile egos. You need such a lot of handholding.’

  ‘And you do it so well,’ Mike deadpanned, but quickly returned to being serious. ‘I couldn’t have done this without you.’

  ‘Yes, you could,’ I insisted, embarrassed now. ‘And anyway, we still have loads to do.’

  ‘We do. That, we do. But mark my words, with Dave behind us, it’ll be a walk on the beach. Comparatively speaking. I mean, I know he’ll work us hard, he’s a real slave-driver, but he’ll also make it happen. He won’t take any nonsense. It won’t be like MonX.’

  ‘Amen to that,’ I agreed. Meanwhile, we had reached my building and were trudging up the stairs, speaking rather too loudly as we went. Predictably, Mrs Bowden’s front door opened.

  ‘Really,’ she huffed. ‘You’re being very inconsiderate these days, Emily. And this is the second time in one night that one of your rocker friends wakes me up.’ She sniffed disdainfully on the words ‘rocker’ and ‘friends.’

  My heart froze. ‘What do you mean?’

  Mike took my hand and squeezed it hard. We exchanged a look.

  ‘Who disturbed you, Mrs Bowden?’ Mike enquired politely, but firmly. He had paled too, and I could practically read his mind. Had one of the other MonX members found out Mike’s hiding place and come to pick a fight?

  Mrs Bowden sniffed some more. ‘That man. You know, that rocker boyfriend of yours.’ She looked at Mike and became flustered. ‘The other one, the one before him.’ She thrust her chin out quite forcefully towards Mike to signify who she meant by ‘him.’

  ‘Nate?’ My voice came out high-pitched and strangled. ‘Nate was here?’

  ‘He was. He had the audacity to knock on my door when you wouldn’t open.’

  ‘You spoke to him?’

  ‘I had to, didn’t I? But I wasn’t best pleased.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  Somewhere at the back of my mind, I noted that Mike was still holding onto my hand. He had also put out an arm to steady my back, stopping me from tumbling backwards down the stairs. I was a little wobbly on my feet all of a sudden.

  ‘He wanted to know whether you still lived there. I said you did, but you had male company again.’

  ‘You what?’

  Damn you, woman, what business is it of yours? He asked you a simple question, why do you have to go and spill my life story, and one that isn’t even correct? I was screaming inside and could have happily strangled her. I was so angry that I couldn’t speak at all. Mike stepped in for me.

  ‘And what happened next?’ he asked gently.

  ‘Well, he left, didn’t he?’ Mrs Bowden shrugged. ‘Of course, I’ve been awake ever since, and now you’ve woken me up again. I shall complain to the owners’ association, you know.’

  ‘You do that,’ Mike encouraged her. ‘Enjoy yourself.’ He propelled me towards my own front door, completely ignoring my nosey neig
hbour. Awkwardly, he fumbled for his set of keys in his pockets and stabbed at the lock until he managed to open the door. He pushed me inside and locked up.

  ‘You all right? You don’t look so good.’

  I caught sight of myself in the hall mirror, and I had to agree. I was ashen-faced and trembling all over, like I had seen a ghost.

  ‘Nate was here,’ I whispered. I had to peel my tongue off the roof of my mouth for every word. It seemed inordinately big, my tongue, and my speech was slurred and laboured. ‘He was here, and she told him I was with you.’

  Tears brimmed in my eyes. Mike looked stricken.

  ‘I mean, not that I was with you, that’s fine, but she implied that I was with you, and now he’ll think that I have someone else, and it’s all over all over again.’

  I was vaguely aware that I wasn’t making much sense, but Mike understood me anyway. He took my arm and led me into the lounge.

  ‘Here, sit down,’ he instructed and pushed me to sit on the sofa. ‘Ring him. Explain.’

  ‘I can’t,’ I objected. ‘What am I going to say? “It’s not what you think?”’

  ‘Precisely.’

  ‘He’ll never believe me.’

  ‘He won’t if you don’t try.’

  ‘He hates me.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘But he’ll be thinking I’ve found someone new. He might think that I was seeing you before I finished with him. He might think I finished it with him for you.’ I tore at my hair, nearly hysterical now as I imagined all the wrong things that Nate might be thinking.

  ‘You’re being ridiculous. He’ll think no such thing. But you’ve got to ring him,’ Mike repeated. ‘It’s the only way.’

  He handed me the phone. I looked at it as if I had never seen one before.

  ‘Do it. Now.’

  Chapter Forty-Four

  My fingers trembled so much that it took me several attempts to tap out Nate’s number on my phone. At last, the call went through. Seconds stretched to hours while I waited for Nate to answer, but nothing happened. As before, not even the answering machine cut in. Eventually, I hung up, defeated.

  ‘Try his mobile.’ Mike wouldn’t let up. ‘You’ve got to try and reach him.’

  Once more, I obeyed. This time, I managed to dial the number on first attempt but once again, there was no answer.

  ‘He’s not there.’ I returned the phone to its base and wrung my hands in despair. ‘Why did he come here? What did he want? And why isn’t he answering me now?’

  Mike shrugged. ‘I can’t answer those questions, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, Emily.’ He hesitated before wrapping me in an awkward embrace. ‘Has he maybe left something behind that he wanted to pick up?’

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t think so. Besides, he’d have called me first, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t simply turn up at eleven p.m. on a Saturday night without warning. Maybe he wanted to make up. And now…’ I wailed in panic. ‘Now he thinks I’ve got someone else, and I won’t have a chance at all.’

  Mike let me go and took a step back. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Hang on a second. Didn’t you see him with that blombe the other day?’

  ‘Yes. And?’

  ‘So how could he possibly be upset at the thought that you’ve got a new boyfriend when he has a new bimbo himself?’

  ‘Because he’s a man? Because none of this makes sense?’ I raked my hands through my hair once more. ‘What did he want?’

  ‘Try him again. Or send him a text.’

  ‘No. No. He’s either screening my calls and not answering, or the numbers don’t work. Either way, there’s no point. I’m not trying again.’

  ‘We’ll go and see him.’

  ‘What, now? Both of us, together? You’re joking, right?’

  Mike shrugged. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it’s past midnight? Because…’ I flailed my arms about. ‘Because you can’t do that, go and drop in on somebody past midnight. And because…’ I latched onto more practical things. ‘The Tube’s stopped running, and I can’t possibly drive, I’ve drunk too much. No.’

  Mike sighed. ‘I suppose you’re right. We’ll go tomorrow.’

  No way.

  ‘Maybe. D’you know what? I want to go to bed now.’ I stepped closer to Mike and gave him a little hug. ‘I’m sorry I destroyed our high. Bad timing, eh?’ I grimaced.

  ‘Not your fault. You weren’t to know. And hey, I’m still excited! I’m also a little sad for you, but such is life. Rough and smooth, bitter and sweet, all at once.’ He chuckled. ‘There’s a song there.’

  ‘You’re a kind man, Mike Loud.’ I was overcome all emotional.

  ‘You’re a super woman, Emily Trenden. Now go get some sleep. Things will look better in the morning.’

  But they didn’t. Even a day later, on Sunday, I still felt as bleak about the Nate situation as I had done on Friday. Again. It seemed that this self-inflicted relationship disaster was going to haunt me forever.

  At Mike’s insistence, we eventually did go round to Nate’s place. I drove us, and we parked in a little side street and walked up to Nate’s building together. Mike rang the doorbell. Nothing happened.

  Mike stepped back on the pavement and scrutinised the building. ‘Curtains are drawn. Somebody’s sleeping late. Press that buzzer again.’

  I did as instructed, but still nothing happened. ‘Let’s go,’ I suggested impatiently, feeling intensely uncomfortable with the whole situation.

  ‘I suppose,’ Mike grumbled, clearly dissatisfied with the outcome of our mission. ‘But here.’ He produced a notebook and pen. ‘Write him a note and put it in his letter box.’

  I snorted. ‘You what? I can’t do that.’

  ‘Why not? He came by last night. It’s only natural that you should follow up. Go on, woman. Write.’ He pushed the pen at me, and I took it reluctantly. ‘What should I say?’

  Mike rolled his eyes. ‘What do you want to say?’

  ‘I don’t know. So many things. I wouldn’t know where to start. Most of all, I’d want him to read it, not bin it.’ I stared at Mike. ‘You’re a man. You tell me what you’d like to hear from me if you were him.’

  ‘Okay.’ Mike accepted the challenge. He screwed up his eyes and thought for a second. ‘Here goes.’

  Dear Nate, I wrote as Mike dictated. Hi.

  Sorry I missed you last night. I’m so happy you came by. My nosey neighbour got the wrong idea. It’s not what you think. I miss you. I’m sorry for everything. Call me?

  Yours, Emily xxx

  ‘That’s it?’ I was flabbergasted. ‘No explanations? No “I love you”?’

  ‘Nope. You wanted to know what would intrigue me in his shoes. There it is. Hints, and an apology. He’ll either get it, or he won’t. Now post it.’

  ‘Whatever.’ I shrugged. I had tried everything else, so why not follow Mike’s lead? If only Nate hadn’t turned up the previous night. If only he hadn’t talked to Mrs Bowden. My heart contracted with anxiety and embarrassment.

  I felt exhausted. This was, what, the third or fourth time I had opened that wound all over again? How many more times would I have to go through the heartbreak before it would finally leave me in peace?

  ‘C’mon, let’s go for lunch,’ Mike suggested helpfully. ‘And put your phone on silent.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘So you don’t listen out for it for the entire rest of the day.’

  ‘But what if he calls, and I don’t answer again? We’re going to go round in circles.’

  ‘Okay. Give me your phone. I’ll take care of it.’

  ‘What? No!’

  ‘Yes. Give it here. I can’t watch you bleed like this.’

  He wrestled my handbag off me and extracted my phone before I had a chance to react.

  ‘Mike Loud, give that back.’ I punched him on the arm, but he simply held the phone over his head and out of my reach.

  ‘No can-do. But I promise I’ll give it to you if
it rings. Immediately.’

  He stuffed my phone into his jeans pocket and refused to engage in further argument. I yielded to the inevitable.

  As it happened, the phone never did ring. Not during our lunch at what we had had come to consider ‘our’ local pub, not during the afternoon, not in the evening. There was nothing on my landline either.

  ‘It’s Sunday,’ Mike suddenly burst out while we were watching telly that night. ‘Why would he even bother to check his mail? He won’t get your note until tomorrow, sweetheart.’

  ‘Of course.’ I smacked my head. That made perfect sense. ‘But you’re not having my phone all day tomorrow. I need it. I’ve got things to do.’

  ‘Okay. That’s fine. You got through today, you’ll get through tomorrow too.’ Mike grinned.

  Alas, the week passed with no message from Nate. All day Monday, my mind turned over possibilities of what he might have wanted and why he still wasn’t calling me. I totally forgot about Mike’s big meeting with Iron Dave until he came home bearing champagne and grinning widely. The wheels were in motion, the deal was in the bag—at least between Mike and Dave. Band members to follow as soon as possible. What an amazing feeling!

  On Tuesday, I gave myself a stern telling off and pushed Nate to the back of my mind. On Wednesday, I got so frustrated with him still taking up mental energy that I consigned him to the bottom drawer of my brain and didn’t allow myself to dwell on him anymore. Instead, I launched myself with a vengeance on working some more on Fallen For Rock’s website, Facebook page and launch campaign.

  Mike busied himself finding a rehearsal hall and booking a few hours of studio time for the end of the month for a try-out session with his new band. He had also been back and forth to his own house in preparation for moving back there. The media circus surrounding MonX’s break-up had died down, and we figured it was time that Mike returned to normal. It gave me a weird, lonely feeling to think that my impromptu flatmate should be moving out again soon, but it was probably for the best. Whilst we had both enjoyed the arrangement, it wasn’t really conducive for Mike to work in the way he needed to. So he was checking the lay of the land at his place and moving a few things back already, and somehow, the week passed in a frantic haze of activity. By Friday, we were poised and ready for our last coup—recruiting the guitarist for Fallen For Rock.