by Lisa Swallow
“Yeah. Full on celebrity thing. You surprise me.”
I rub my head. “Yeah. Guess.”
Taking a last glance at the three kids, I head off to find my friends.
They’re where Ruby said, in the large room dominated by the expensive entertainment system, plush recliner chairs around. The three gravitated to their usual spots, talking loudly above the music they play.
“Hey, hey, it’s the man himself,” says Bryn and lifts his beer in salute. “Hostess with the mostess.”
“Funny, Bryn. Where’s Avery?”
“Chatting to Tegan, I think.”
“Ah, and how’s Tegan finding married life?” Bryn scowls at me. “C’mon, surely that’s not still a sore spot.”
“Not my business,” he mutters. “As I’m often told.”
“By Tegan or Avery?”
“Both.”
Liam snorts in laughter. “Told you before, thumbprints on all our heads these days.”
“Speak for yourself,” replies Jem.
“Ha! Ruby has you all under control, the Riot boys too.”
“He’s right, Jem,” I say. “Don’t deny it.”
I head to the window and stare out across the lawn, at the people milling around. Polite. Upright. A world away from the old Blue Phoenix parties. “Steve wants to meet up with us in London next month.”
“Yeah. Back to it,” says Liam. “Gonna be good to head into the studio again.”
“Easier than last time,” says Bryn and waves a finger between me and Jem. “Right?”
“Couldn’t be much worse,” says Liam.
I perch on the edge of the table. “So, you’ve forgiven me for the last few months, Liam?”
He runs a hand across his hair. Of all the guys, he held the biggest worry Blue Phoenix would split thanks to my solo project and wasn’t scared to voice it.
“Wasn’t about that. Just, after trying to hold the band together when you and Jem were a mess, it felt fucking rude for you to piss off on your own.”
I bristle, but bite my tongue. I honestly never expected Liam to be the one who reacted like this.
“Oh, Jesus, don’t you two start instead,” mutters Bryn.
“We’re still here,” Jem says quietly. “That says a lot, doesn’t it?”
The implication beneath his words goes further. Here in this room? Yes. But also Blue Phoenix is still alive. We came through chaos and instability, stepped away from the spiralling destruction, and we’ll emerge stronger. Liam knows this. They all do.
I meet Jem’s eyes and share the unspoken. He’s still here.
“Me and Jem already started writing if that makes you feel better, Liam,” I tell him.
“Uh oh. No children’s songs I hope. Cover versions of the nursery rhyme classics?” asks Bryn.
“You’re a sarcastic bastard sometimes,” mutters Jem.
“And you’re still uptight, Jeremy.” Bryn finishes his beer and stands. “Gonna look for Avery.” He pauses before he leaves, large frame filling the doorway. “Love you guys.”
“How many have you had, Bryn?” I ask, mouth curling in amusement.
He places a hand on his heart. “Man, I’m serious.”
I shake my head and sit in the spot he left and watch him stride out of the door.
Bryn voiced what underpins us, the words guys never say to each other unless they’re drunk. Very drunk. Or ever. I love the three guys as if they’re my family, that’s not ending, even when we disagree.
What’s in our future? More of the same?
We fought to keep the band going at the hardest times, through the year that saw me and Jem combusting in the fiery destruction we created. Now we’re back, stronger than ever.
Blue Phoenix rose again and we’re not heading anywhere but higher.
36
SKY
Jesus, this is insane. Way too many people and too much attention, exactly the reason I snuck off with Dylan to marry in Bali. I duck away from yet another repetitive conversation about inane things and scout the grounds for Tara.
She sits on the terrace, close to the long tables lined with food, eating small parcels of pastry with her manicured fingers and washing them down with champagne. I sit opposite my best friend and look into her flushed face.
“How’s things?” I ask. “Sorry I haven’t had a chance to catch up with you yet.”
“Good,” she says through a mouthful. “Better.”
“Asshole,” I mutter.
The move to London with Tom happened, but their relationship ended a couple of months later. This came as a huge shock, followed by anger at a guy breaking my best friend’s heart
She shrugs. “Better I know now than before things got serious.”
“Eighteen months, though. That is serious. I still can’t believe it when he was so supportive after the accident.”
“You know how it is, people drift. I’m good, honestly. At least he wasn’t cheating on me.”
“And you live in London now,” I say with a grin.
“Yep. I don’t regret that part. I should’ve left Bristol years ago.”
I take the nearby bottle and fill a glass for myself. The bubbles tickle my nose as I drink. “Well, no hitting on famous people while you’re here,” I tease.
“They’re all taken anyway!” She pouts, then laughs. “No. Not interested. I’ve seen enough of your life to know to keep away.”
We sit in our comfortable quiet and watch the world pass by. Many here I don’t recognise, Dylan’s friends from the music industry invited to celebrate the album. Perhaps we should’ve limited how many events we celebrated on one date, but at least we won’t need to organise a party again soon.
“We’re headed to the States for a few months,” I tell her. “I’ll miss you.”
“Always leaving me!” She takes a bite of pastry and scowls.
“Come visit. You have holidays. You can take time off work.”
“Maybe.” She sips her wine. “How are you after the court case?”
“Yeah. Okay.” I pick at the edge of the stiff white tablecloth. Lily’s trial over the string of offences the day Rhys was born didn’t end the way I wanted.
The court sentenced Lily to a shorter sentence than we hoped, and this is behind our decision to spend time in the States. She’s released next month, and I refuse to hide behind gates. With a criminal conviction, she’ll find it difficult to enter the States unnoticed. I rely on the fact she’s not crazy enough to try, but I’ve downplayed her instability for years. I have to trust this situation changed the direction she’s headed.
“I’m great at bringing up the wrong things, aren’t I?” Tara closes her hand over mine.
“No. People tend to avoid asking me about things that might upset me. You’re honest. Probably why we get along so well.”
She grins and says in a childish voice. “BFFs.”
The wine-soaked day retreats back to my old normality, and I prompt Tara for a run down on her new life. She attempts to hide it, but a sadness hovers around her, and I use my most persuasive, nagging powers on her agreeing to a holiday in LA. Partly selfish, because I know fewer people over there and crave a true friend.
Avery crosses the lawn alone. I wave and she waves back as she heads over. She’s brighter than last time I saw her, back in the middle of the chaos surrounding Bryn and Connor, but she still looks tired. Her thick brown hair is loose across her bare shoulders, the strappy floral summer dress she’s wearing lower cut than mine.
“You look like you need a sleep,” I say and pour her a glass of wine.
“End of term last week. I’m exhausted. Have you seen Bryn?”
“No. Last I saw the four of them snuck off for secret band business.”
“Where’s Rhys? I haven’t given him a cuddle yet. I bet he’s changed a lot since I last saw him.”
“In the gardens near the kitchen. We have a babysitter for the kids, well, two if you include Ella. She’s constantly nagging her mum for a brother o
r sister. Liam’s face is priceless. I don’t think he’s keen on the idea.”
“Cerys isn’t either. Ella will have to put up with her half siblings. If you get what I mean.”
“How is Bryn?” I ask.
“I think he struggles a bit still, but Connor’s in remission. We’re heading to Australia next week for a few.”
“Oh. Nice.”
“I’m looking forward to the sun.” Avery smiles and reaches over to take the last pastry parcel on the table. “I’ll grab more, I’m starving.”
She heads to the nearby table and takes a plate, reaching out for food.
“Avery Paige, tell me you’re not waitressing!” Bryn’s voice calls from nearby and heads turn. The tables aren’t full, but enough people sit near to cause Avery to throw him a dirty look. “Put the plate down. Step away from the soup.”
“There isn’t any soup!” she calls back. “Maybe you should put the alcohol down?”
“Bryn…,” I call at him in a warning voice.
He ignores me and strides over to Avery. They have an inaudible conversation, which includes Bryn grinning at a scolding Avery. After a minute, Bryn takes hold of Avery’s face and plants a huge kiss on her mouth. She struggles against him for all but a few seconds, and the following kiss isn’t one for in public.
They head out, Avery ahead and Bryn trailing behind. He points at Avery. “Fucking love her. Isn’t she awesome?”
“Seriously, Bryn,” she mutters and tugs his hand harder.
“But I do,” he grumbles. “Does nobody want me to tell them I love them today?”
I cringe for Avery, at Bryn’s drunk behaviour, but can’t help smiling at the confused sincerity in his eyes. “I should find Dylan,” I say to Tara and push my chair back. “I hope he hasn’t had as many as Bryn.”
Tara laughs. “Bloody rock stars.”
I prowl around the grounds, attempting to avoid conversation with people. He’s not in the last place I saw him, looking bored as someone connected to the record company chatted in excitement. No sign of Dylan anywhere. I always feel ludicrous doing this, but sometimes I lose him on the estate. I search for my phone and text Dylan.
DYLAN
Sky walks into the converted barn I call my studio, but she knows is my hideout. She shakes her head in despair at me as I sit on the old sofa, shoes and jacket off. Old Blue Phoenix tracks play in the background.
“You can’t just disappear!” she protests.
“Yeah. I can.”
“It’s rude.”
“I’ve had enough.”
Sky holds a hand out. “Tough. I’m not doing this on my own. Come on.”
I don’t want to be anywhere but here, with the woman I’ve spent all day desperate to be alone with. I’d forgotten how much other people mess with my head, how the intrusion and questions fill my head and push away the quiet peace. Weeks back on the promotional circuit doesn’t help. This party in the midst of the hecticness wasn’t a great idea.
I grab her hand and pull. She trips forward onto me. “Stay here.”
“You okay?” Sky balances on my lap, and I support her as she strokes my cheek. “Did you argue with the guys?”
“No. I don’t know. I’m overwhelmed, I guess.” I offer a rueful smile. “Don’t tell anybody, but I think Dylan Morgan’s party days are over.”
“Quinn will be disappointed, you’re invited to hers next month.”
Sky. So very Sky. God, I love this woman. I wrap Sky’s hair around my hand and pull her closer, lips touching hers. “Shush”
“If you need time alone, that’s okay, but I should check on Rhys.” She moves back and attempts to stand.
I grip her legs. “Stay.”
“Dylan, no—” ‘No’ won’t work here. I thread fingers through her hair, and our lips crash together like waves, washing over and pulling us away from the people outside.
The significance of here, the place she finally gave into the inevitable that night, hangs between us, and I pull her leg over me so she straddles my lap.
“Buttons.” I grin and flick open the first on her dress, above the swell of her breasts.
She catches my hand. “No.”
“Aww, be fair. I’ve kept my hands off you all day.”
“And you can manage a bit longer.” Her stern tone doesn’t fool either of us.
“I love you, summer Sky,” I whisper and move my hands to the buttons again. Our eyes meet, and I can’t look away, caught in the intensity going beyond my words. “I wrote you another song.”
Her eyes widen. “When?”
“Recently. It’s not finished yet.” I hold her face in my hands. “I’ll always write you songs, so you’ll live forever in the world the way you do in my heart.”
Sky’s eyes soften, and she moves in to kiss me again. “I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have you in my life.”
“Yeah, you are.” I smile as she pokes her tongue into her cheek.
“You won’t always be rock-god Dylan Morgan, you know.”
“Wanna bet?”
Sky rests her forehead on mine, and my heart races towards hers as she slides her arms around my waist. “I know you’ll always be Dylan Morgan, but you’ll also always be my man from the sea, the one who nobody else knows.”
“And that, summer Sky, is why I love you.”
I hold Sky to me, encompassing her in my arms, the way her love surrounds and holds me to the bright world she shares with me. A split second brought us together, our lives colliding blew everything I thought I knew about love and life into pieces. Amongst those pieces, I found a part I never realised was missing. Sky, the woman my heart saw and told me she’s the one.
From the first kiss, her soul whispered to mine, and in that moment, time paused. Those first few days together hidden from the world felt like an eternity. The eternity with her I wanted; the one I have in my arms now.
Epilogue
Sky
The cottage stands out amongst the dunes, tucked away at the bottom of the track leading down from the road. Recently repainted, the whitewashed building holds a brightness to match the sun shining down, the glorious summer day a far cry from the rainy day ten years ago.
Every year, on the same day, we return here for a week and tease each other over how we met. We sit on the same sofa, me with my favourite wine, and eat pizza with our children. Our lives are anything but normal, and here we snatch our few days in the bubble we first found ourselves in.
I step outside in the sun, holding Seren against my hip as she wriggles for me to put her on the ground. At eighteen months old, she can walk but is distracted every few metres, and we’re forced to pause for her to inspect every shell, piece of seaweed or rock we find. Dylan’s and Rhys’s figures move in the distance, close to the shore, and if I let Seren walk, we won’t reach them for half an hour.
I take a longer route, around the edge of the sand dunes Rhys rolls down every opportunity he gets, where his sister, eager to copy him, reached the bottom in tears and shock, hair filled with sand.
“You can walk when we get to the beach,” I tell her. “Daddy and Rhys are waiting for us.”
She points across the sand and struggles again. “Walk.”
Relenting, I place her on the floor, and without a word, Seren makes a beeline for the water. I blink in surprise at her determined pace, as if the sea welcomes Seren with an urgency to match hers. I dressed Seren in knee-length shorts and a T-shirt, smothered her pale face in sunscreen, tied a wide brimmed hat over her dark curls before we left, and the vision in pink blurs across the beach.
I smile to myself and gather pace too, the warm sand against my bare feet. I catch Seren’s hand as we reach the edge of the water where the waves lap the shore. Dylan and Rhys are close. Rhys sits on the floor as his dad crouches next to him poking in the sand.
“There’s Daddy.” I tug her hand away from the water in the direction of the rest of my family.
Dylan looks up as we approach;
his eyes reflecting the sea, his face lit by happiness the way Rhys’s blond curls are by the sun.
“Rhys, where’s your hat?”
“I don’t want it!” he protests.
Dylan takes the cap from Rhys’s orange bucket and pushes it onto his son’s head. “Mummy’s here now, and we’ll be in trouble.”
I throw Dylan a look, but he’ll never lose his childish streak, and things like hats in the sun don’t register with him.
“Aren’t you paddling?” I ask Rhys.
“I’m making something.”
He points to a pattern of shells on the beach, a large circle of different shapes and sizes, some broken, interspersed with polished glass weathered by the sea. My heart squeezes, and I smile at Dylan. Since we arrived, the children’s bedroom has filled with Rhys’s shell collection and accompanying sand.
I let go of Seren’s hand, kneel to inspect his latest specimens and pick one up. “I bet Daddy helped find these. This one is nice.”
Rhys takes it from me. “Mum! You’re spoiling my pattern.”
Dylan grins. “Not these, but we can’t find any big ones.”
“Daddy says he always finds the best shells,” says Rhys.
“Of course he does, because Daddy is best at everything,” I say with sarcasm.
The water splashes against Dylan’s leg, high enough to cover the tattoo above his brown feet sinking into the sand. I don’t think I’ll ever look at Dylan and not feel the surge of love somersaulting inside, or the draw to touch him. This man proved his love for me in my darkest times, and together we’ve lived some of the brightest. Moving in the same orbit, we face the bright side together and revolve away from the dark.
Seren jumps up and down in the sea, splashing her shorts with water as she giggles.
“Rhys help Seren find some shells.”
“Do I have to?” he complains.
“If you don’t, she’ll take yours. You know she will.”
Rhys pulls himself up and splashes towards his sister.
I keep a cautious eye on her as I stand and wrap my arms around Dylan’s taut waist. Ten years since we met, and whenever we’re here, it’s as if we visited yesterday. Dylan isn’t the same guy I met. I’m different too, but underneath we’re the people we always were.
