by DaNeo Duran
‘But it’s naff,’ Stu said.
‘It’s a demo. It’s not supposed to blow minds.’ Dane took a moment to think. ‘The recording isn’t great, but the songs are. It won’t detract from future album sales it’ll boost them. People will want the album once they hear those songs.’
‘We’ve only got a few days left.’
‘We’ll sell them. I’ll find a Vegas studio and get a load duplicated. The rumour will sell the demos and prove the next album’s on its way. They’ll become collectors’ items and deepen your bond with your fans.’
Everyone stayed quiet a moment.
‘What d’you think?’ Johnny asked Stu.
Stu nodded.
‘Everyone else agree?’
The girls both nodded.
‘Okay Dane, good idea. Let’s get on it.’
* * *
Quinn drove the bus to a roadside diner. Bustling with truckers and reps on their way in or out of Vegas the team had to wait to be served.
Dane used the time to ring up and order demo tapes from the studio.
Eventually, broken into three groups, a spotty hostess placed everyone at tables. Seeming to cling to him Johnny sat with Christine. Away from the others they looked at the menu and ordered. He tried thinking of something to say. Christine sat smiling at him. Johnny looked across the room to the others and wishing the food would hurry up realised he’d never been so uncomfortable in Christine’s presence.
The jabbering room made their silence even more painful.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked eventually.
‘Hmm,’ she nodded. ‘You?’
No, he thought but said, ‘I’m sorry for the mess I’ve caused us.’
‘Like Dane says it’s not a mess. He’s good at turning things to positives.’
‘It’s hard not to like the guy,’ Johnny said whilst trying to read Christine’s mind.
The food arrived as Johnny finally twigged what messages Christine could be sending him.
‘So,’ Christine said cutting her burger bun into neat quarters, ‘who’s out to wreck us?’
‘That’s what I’ve been wondering.’
‘You reckon Howie’s behind it?’
‘If he is it’d make me feel better. You were pretty mean to him.’
‘But not that bad, was I?’
Johnny shrugged. ‘He couldn’t know about the money. He vanished before even we knew about it.’
‘Dane’s a better tour manager.’
‘Maybe.’ Had he really just said that? ‘He’s not sexy though.’
Christine giggled. ‘Doesn’t matter; I’ve got you to fantasise about.’
Damn. Johnny found it hard to swallow.
‘Who else could we have peed off?’ he asked keeping the conversation on track.
‘We’ve been to so many venues, met so many promoters, concert chairman, fans on this tour and the first one, yet I don’t remember us peeing anyone off.’
‘Except Howie.’
‘Howie’s fine,’ Christine said. ‘Me and Mazz’ll just be blips on his radar by now.’
They ordered coffee and dessert; calories that’d be incinerated shortly.
Afterwards Johnny stood. ‘Linda should know about this. I’ll ring her.’
Christine leant over the table and touched his forearms. ‘Oh Johnny don’t.’
He looked at her pleading face. Frowning he sat back down. Christine looked away.
‘What wrong?’ he asked.
‘It’s not time of the month if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘I wasn’t, Jeez.’
‘Sorry. Can’t you just leave her alone for one day?’ she asked.
Johnny sat back. ‘Look, on the first US tour I phoned Linda occasionally. You didn’t gripe. Now, since London in fact, you do. What’s your problem with her?’
‘I don’t have any problem with her. I really like her and am grateful for everything she’s done for us.’
‘So why the remarks about her being old enough to be my mam?’
‘Well, she’s too old for you.’
‘Says who, I’ve seen you slope off with men that age.’
‘Only briefly and, I don’t get all weird about it. Plus it doesn’t seem so bad a girl being with an older man.
Still with comparative good humour Johnny said, ‘That’s ridiculous. I tell you what, I won’t phone Linda again today but I don’t want you being all sourpuss when I phone her Monday.’
Monday 16th January 1984
An hour before sunrise, Linda more than half asleep recoiled at Earl’s coarse perfunctory kiss. In a bid to keep up with Linda’s easy earning, he’d accepted early-morning backbreaking work on a construction site.
An hour later, Linda slapped her alarm into silence. Tired but without suspicion of ill health she rolled over, touching her feet to the floor. But when she stood panic shivered with pain from her lower abdomen. Her heart pounded and spots appeared before her eyes.
Back on the bed two minutes passed before, feeling herself again, she wondered if she’d imagined the episode. Again she slid her feet to the floor and rose into a sitting position.
Unquestionably she had something wrong with her.
Using the walls as support she tiptoed to the bathroom; each feathered step shooting darts through her abdomen. Approaching the toilet with trepidation fearing urinal infection she braced herself but experienced no extra discomfort whilst sitting with her head below her knees.
Back in the bedroom she picked one of Earl’s colossal T-shirts managing a pained smile in the wardrobe’s mirror.
Crawling on hands and knees through the living area she flopped in front of the TV and waited dozing until she found strength to make some coffee.
Though Fiona hadn’t long been working for the agency fulltime she had keys. Linda decided to entrust the office to her for the day. From the red wall mounted phone Linda dialled.
Fiona answered on second ring. ‘Lake: All States Entertainment Agency.’
Good, she’s in already, Linda thought halfway through Fiona’s lengthy greeting.
‘It’s a bit of a mouthful,’ she said breathlessly.
‘It’s the company’s name,’ Fiona said with dry professionalism. ‘How may I help you?’
‘It’s Linda.’
‘Oh God, sorry Boss. I didn’t recognise you. You sound—’
‘It’s okay. I’m okay, but not well enough to come in.’
Fiona understood saying she’d manage the office before insisting Linda ring her at lunchtime.
‘That’s great,’ Linda croaked. ‘I’m fine if I lie still. If I’m no better later I’ll get Earl to take me to the doc’s.’
‘Well you just let me know if you need anything or start worrying.’
Ringing off Linda watched TV all morning between intermittent sleeps. At lunchtime she crawled back to the phone. Fiona asked whether she had any appetite.
Having assumed she’d contracted a virus Linda hadn’t expected hunger. Managing to stay upright she fixed a plate of food but couldn’t wait to lie down and be still again. When she did, the relief kept her there all afternoon.
A little before 5pm Earl staggered through the door. Offering no flicker of pleasure to see her, he looked as exhausted as she felt.
Grumbling, he threw his bag down. ‘What you doing back so soon?’
He went straight to the fridge without kissing her.
‘I’m not well,’ Linda said.
Her voice found strength sensing Earl’s temper lurking close to the surface.
‘Unbelievable,’ he said taking two beers from the fridge without getting her anything.
Looking around he gestured to the empty plate and mugs. ‘Illness hasn’t affected your appetite.’
‘No, it’s—’
‘You look fine.’
As he flopped into a chair Linda watched the first beer vanish down his throat.
‘Dallas,’ he said at the TV.
Linda glanced
and saw JR glower at Sue Ellen the way Earl glowered at her. Their bickering switched to baseball with Earl’s click of the TV’s remote.
Tired, Linda didn’t object, but said, ‘I think I need a doctor.’
‘You think you need a doctor?’ Earl put the remote down. ‘Listen, I’m starving. I’ve spent all day shifting concrete whilst getting shouted at by an idiot foreman and you’ve laid here watching crap like Dallas, pigging out leaving some birdbrained girl in your office doing your so called work. Fix me something to eat and I might think about running you to surgery.’
Wishing she’d called a cab earlier Linda, too astonished to speak remained wordless.
Snatching his second beer Earl switched the TV off. ‘I’m going for a shower.’
Linda looked, but didn’t dare touch the remote.
All day she’d willed the stabbing pains to ease but as they worsened she tried distracting her mind by thinking of her mom, alone and unwell. She remembered Christine telling her after the Whisky show of Johnny’s scars. Someone always had it worse she reasoned deciding she should cook Earl something then get straight to a doctor.
Looking to the kitchen’s island just feet away she tried standing.
Like a geyser erupting, pain ripped through her abdomen shocking and boiling her body.
Falling back to the settee she panted; sweat appearing from nowhere. She couldn’t move. Earl would simply have to understand.
Minutes later she heard footsteps appear as Earl came into the living area. But, Linda’s eyes opened – the footsteps stopped. She couldn’t see him but knew he must be seeing the untouched kitchen.
Linda tried thinking of something suitable to say but the attack came with a lion’s stealth and rapidity.
A huge hand wrapped around her tiny wrist.
The couch diminished as, beneath Earl’s strength, Linda flew accelerated by a second hand smashed into a buttock. With abdominal pain lagging behind Linda focused on the upcoming parquet flooring.
Though her feet clattered, buckling, her body’s momentum collided with the kitchen’s island.
Fighting to stay upright she grabbed, still spinning, and wielded a saucepan guessing Earl’s proximity.
She missed.
Earl swatted the weapon away. But as her legs weakened she hardly cared given her concentrated will to douse the now raging abdominal flames.
Earl clapped a vicious supporting hand to her jaw.
Roaring in her face, Linda’s fear overwhelmed her ability to comprehend what Earl might be saying.
His grip ground one jaw into the other.
Failing to answer anything Earl might be asking she prayed for the nightmare’s end.
The nightmare ended.
Violently.
As one hand released her face another swept past her eyes. Faster than her folding legs the flattened palm swung low slapping into her stomach.
The tearing shockwave forced the air from her lungs. Linda’s ears rattled as her own deathly cry shrieked by cut short as her knees thundered into the unforgiving parquet.
Her hands sagged helplessly as she freefell unhindered by Earl’s sudden absence into the floor.
Each out breath carrying an involuntary wail, Linda sensed death looming as outside Earl’s V8 started and disappeared.
Summoning survival’s instinctive reserves, she twisted and saw the crimson phone appeared miles above her. Her own hand appeared reaching for it.
The crimson drained.
Everything faded as circumstance relieved her of fight.
* * *
Time, like everything except the darkness, stopped mattering. Too comfortable on the wrong side of consciousness, Linda phased out the sound of footsteps and strange frightened voices descending once again to blissful blackness.
* * *
Perhaps she’d later forgotten the darkness.
Back with it again, Linda floated through it aware of softness, a bed beneath her and something in her nose.
‘Nurse,’ a woman’s voice said.
Linda’s curiosity dawned as the darkness separated like oil on glass. With focus she saw a woman’s face. Not her mother’s.
‘Hi Linda, welcome back.’
‘Joan?’ she said finally recognising her neighbour. ‘Where?’
‘Hospital. I’ll get a doctor.’
‘I’ll go,’ a nurse from elsewhere said.
‘What’s going on?’ Linda asked touching her nose feeling tubes. ‘How come you’re here?’
‘You’ve been unwell and I wasn’t busy so thought I’d save your life.’
Linda chuckled. The pain bit her humour.
The nurse reappeared and smoothed her face to relax her. ‘Take it easy. I’m afraid your friend’s right. You’ve been extremely unwell.’
‘Not that bad, surely?’
‘The doctor will explain.’
Reclined on plumped pillows, Linda let Joan take her hand and tried taking stock of events.
Shifting awkwardly Joan said, ‘I heard the ruckus and thought I should check when Earl drove off.’
‘Thank God you did.’
‘You know, it’s not the first time I’ve heard you two fighting.’
‘Oh God. Really?’
‘But, normally I hear you …’ she paused for thought, ‘… making it up afterwards.’
Linda frowned embarrassed her neighbours could have heard, but more angry in herself for developing a pattern of forgiving Earl’s temper in the bedroom.
‘It’s not the first time he’s expressed himself violently is it?’
Unsure quite what Joan might know Linda faced her neighbour and said, ‘What makes you think he was this time?’
‘I’ve been lying to myself,’ Joan said. ‘Telling myself you’re okay; relieved when I hear you afterwards. Not that that’s any of my business.’
With nothing more to say Linda wondered where Earl might be and what had actually happened to her. The doctor would tell her soon enough.
A question came to mind.
‘How?’ she asked, ‘How did you get into the apartment?’
‘Oh yes,’ Joan said, ‘I’ve a bit of a confession. After Earl drove off I ran to your locked front door. I called through the letterbox. When you didn’t respond I ran round the back and saw you through the patio doors. I thought you were dead, or dying.’
Linda didn’t want to think about that. ‘But how did you actually get in?’
‘You know that lovely potted Japanese Boxwood plant?’
‘Yeah.’
Joan looked uncomfortable on the seat next to the bed. ‘I slung it through the patio window.’
‘Oh no.’ Linda tried to stop herself laughing. The pain shocked her. Suddenly she wanted to cry. She’d loved the plant. On top of everything else it seemed too much.
Joan took her hand. ‘You’ve been through a lot today Linda but everything’s going to be okay now.’ She squeezed her hand and added, ‘Not the plant; that’s a write-off I’m afraid.’
Linda dried up a little. ‘But my Rainier cherry tree’s still okay?’
‘Oh yes. I couldn’t have lifted that without help.’
‘That’s good. I’ll need a glazier.’
‘It’s okay. One’s coming round tomorrow. My husband’s boarding it up for now.’
‘Ms Lake?’
Linda looked to see a man dressed in scrubs at the foot of the bed.
Joan gave her hand another squeeze. ‘I really should be getting back. I’ll come and see you again tomorrow.’
Once she’d left, the doctor introduced himself. Linda found his plain features oddly reassuring knowing she’d remember his sandy hair but not his name. She’d not forget what he told her next.
‘That’s impossible,’ she said too amazed to ask how; how she’d come to be pregnant.
‘Not, entirely impossible.’
She shook her head. ‘I was told I couldn’t conceive.’
‘So you knew about the tubal blockages?’ he v
entured.
‘That’s right. I had a recent examination.’
‘Well it seems your right hand tube wasn’t completely blocked. Sperm met ova in that tube which in itself would be quite normal. However, a fertilised egg generally travels into the uterus. Unfortunately in your case the fertilised egg was trapped in the constricted tube.’
‘Ectopic pregnancy,’ she said bewildered. She knew how dangerous they could be. ‘Will I have to have an operation?’
‘No, we’ve already performed emergency surgery.’
Linda dropped her head back to the pillow. ‘Am I still pregnant?’
‘I’m afraid not. In cases like these there’s no possibility of saving the embryo. And,’ his expression turned more serious, ‘I must inform you, the likelihood of your conceiving in the future, especially after today’s trauma, is beyond slim.’
Linda nodded.
The doctor explained that generally affected fallopian tubes require removal. He’d managed to save her left hand tube though it still remained blocked. After telling her not to rush her recovery he became more serious still.
‘During surgery I witnessed traumatic evidence that would suggest you’ve been the victim of violence; a belief your neighbour supports.’
‘A slap,’ Linda said. ‘That’s all.’
‘A slap delivered with significant force I’d say.’
Linda thought and nodded. ‘Maybe. But, he didn’t know …’
She couldn’t bring herself to admit she’d been pregnant.
He sat where Joan had sat earlier. ‘I have to mention your neighbour called for the police as well as the ambulance that brought you here.’
Her face fell. ‘Did she?’
‘She saved your life. Your husband—’
‘Partner,’ she interrupted.
‘Well, he could have killed you and you’d surely have died if your friend hadn’t called emergency services when she did.’
Linda kept quiet.
‘I’m afraid the police will want to speak to you.’
* * *
Linda used the time after the doctor had left to reflect. The first time Earl had hit her he’d used the heel of his hand and struck her in the breastbone blasting her into the fridge.
The pair of them reacted with astonishment. In the days that followed Earl slept in the spare room apparently too ashamed to look at her. Linda would sit by his bedside stroking his hair telling him she understood it had been a mistake and not to worry.
The second time, he struck her shoulder. He apologised immediately. But his emotional recover didn’t take a heartbeat and in the moments following the attack Linda kidded herself it wouldn’t happen again.
