Keepers of the Flame: A love story

by Jeannie Wycherley

  Silas thought about what she had said, nodding his head wryly. Eventually he grimaced and said, “You know, I’m no angel. There have been times when I’ve plucked a good-looking woman from the crowd and I’ve spent the night with her. But there have been way more times when that has not been the case, I can assure you.”

  “Really?”

  Silas roared with laughter. “What? Are you kidding me? Of course, ‘really’.” He scooted across the bed to sit next to her. “A hot shit rock star? I love that description of me. That feels like a completely other person though. Here with you, I’m just a boy from Buckhorn, admiring a girl from Bristol, UK and thinking she is too far out of my league.” He reached for her and pulled her to his chest, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and holding her close. “I have no intention of making you another ‘notch on my bedpost’, darling. You’re right. You are worth so much more than that.”

  There was a knock on the door as room service arrived. “And besides, there’d be nothing left of the damn thing, except a pile of sawdust.”

  Chapter 10

  “He’s married you know?” Terri had said, the morning after the Bristol gig. They had finally caught up with each other as Silas and the rest of the band left to catch their flight to Glasgow. Jane remained convinced she would never see or hear from Silas again, and her stomach burned with anxiety, her heart heavy, a small part of her regretting they hadn’t slept together.

  They’d lain cocooned on the bed, falling asleep at dawn, and waking a few hours later. Silas had ordered breakfast and then made Jane write down every possible means of contacting her on a linen napkin. She’d watched him pack it in his bag, and wondered how long it would be until he threw it away and forgot all about her. Tonight in Glasgow probably, the second he spotted a woman in the crowd and invited her onto the stage to sing The Unquiet Moon.

  Their goodbye was heartfelt, although slightly awkward, after all they hardly knew each other. What was one night?

  What was one night? Everything. Jane burned inside for Silas as he walked away. She wanted to sob with longing

  It was a relief to find Terri waiting for her in the lobby of the Royal Victoria when she ventured downstairs.

  “Who is?” Jane asked absently.

  “Dewey.”

  “Dewey’s married?” Jane asked incredulously.

  “With two kids.”

  “I don’t believe you. He’s what twenty-six?”

  “Believe me,” Terri twisted her face up. “Damn shame. I actually like him.”

  Jane examined her friend sceptically. Dewey was heavy set with long hair, an impressive beard and spectacles. He was far from Terri’s normal type, who tended to be tall, thin and emo looking.

  “Did you… you know?”

  “Nope.” Terri said, examining her face in a small pocket mirror. She had scrubbed all her make-up off and looked tired. She peered over the mirror at Jane. “Does that surprise you?”

  “No,” said Jane. “Well yes. Maybe. I don’t know. You’re a law unto yourself.”

  Terri laughed, “Make your mind up. No. We talked all night. He’s mighty fond of his kids.” She affected an American accent and snapped the little mirror closed. “I take it you did.”

  “No, we didn’t. We talked most of the night too.”

  “What? Now it’s my turn not to believe you. The pair of you were smitten.” Terri was incredulous. She thumped Jane on the arm.

  “I know. I just couldn’t. Believe me I wanted to. Maybe I should have.”

  “You definitely should have.”

  “I just don’t think I’ll ever see him again.”

  “Oh well, so what if you don’t? But yeah, you will. You’ll see him again. Silas Garfield was like a dog with a bone last night, and he will want another chew on it. Trust me.”

  ***

  The shrilling of the telephone woke Jane from a deep slumber. She thrashed around in the dark, disorientated. She’d been dreaming of Spain. Where was she now? Then she remembered. At home. In her own bed. Tim lay next to her, grumbling.

  The ringing went on interminably and she had no choice, Tim wasn’t moving and she needed to silence it. She threw herself out of bed and stumbled into the hall, yanking the receiver from its cradle.

  “Hello?” she mumbled.

  “Jane Fraser?” asked a familiar drawl.

  “Silas?”

  “Did I wake you?”

  Jane blinked back her astonishment and tried to clear her head. “What time is it?” she asked groggily.

  “I don’t know. Late I guess.” He sounded wide awake.

  Jane peered into the kitchen to look at the glowing light on the microwave. “It’s after two. I was dead to the world.”

  Silas laughed. “Oh honey, I apologise. I haven’t been to bed yet. I only got back to the hotel ten minutes ago.”

  “How’s Glasgow?”

  “It was an amazing show. For the rest of the city, I can’t speak.”

  “As good as Bristol?” asked Jane coyly, still astounded he had actually called her.

  “Nothing will ever top Bristol, that’s for sure,” Silas laughed. “I’ve ordered tea from room service already, to remind myself of you.”

  “You have?”

  “I’ve been thinking of you all day,” Silas said, and he sounded serious. He wasn’t teasing her.

  He waited. He wanted her to reciprocate. Jane thought her heart would burst with longing. And yet poor Tim was in the bedroom, mere feet away.

  “I wish you were here,” Silas said.

  It was too much. “Oh I wish I was too,” she breathed, and she heard him swallow.

  “Travel up here,” he said.

  “I can’t,” she whispered.

  “We’re in Edinburgh tomorrow. Can’t you come?”

  He didn’t understand the distances, the cost of the train on her limited budget. And how would she explain her absence to the supermarket? Or to Tim for that matter?

  “No,” she said. “I can’t do that.”

  “You don’t want to?” he asked uncertainly.

  “No. I mean, yes, I do want to. It’s just too far.” And too complicated she thought.

  “What about Newcastle? Is that closer?”

  “Not much,” she said, confusing herself. It was half a country closer, but at half two in the morning when she was dressed in nothing more than a t-shirt, when her boyfriend of three years was in the next room, and she had to work in the morning, it was unfeasible.

  “Birmingham?” He emphasised the ‘ham’ on the end, so American. Her toes curled with desire to see him, hear him, feel him… to touch him again.

  Yes. She had to see him again. Even if it was only once more to finish what they’d started. “That would be better. Easier.”

  Jane heard Tim stirring in the bedroom. The bed creaked as he pushed himself up.

  “I’ll see you in Birmingham? You promise?”

  “I do. Look I have to go,” she said urgently. “Can you …” Tim stood in the bedroom doorway, rubbing his eyes.

  “Call you tomorrow?”

  “Yes.” She hung up.

  “Is everything alright?” Tim asked. “Who was that?”

  Jane shook her head, her heart heavy, knowing what she must do now. “I’ve met someone else,” she said.

  Chapter 11

  As the train rolled into Birmingham New Street, Jane’s heart thudded heavily in her chest. She was at once excited, but absurdly nervous. She was single, footloose and fancy free and she could do what she wanted. This felt oddly grown-up.

  Silas had called her every day over the last few days, sometimes two or three times a day. They had talked and laughed and with every conversation she had grown even more attached to him. Just the sound of his voice had her burning with a desire to be close to him. There was no question in her mind, that tonight was the night.

  On the station concourse, Jane brought a street map of the city, and stood puzzling over it for a while. Silas had s
uggested she head to the hotel first of all and dump her things in his room, then ask the hotel to book her a cab to the Symphony Hall. It turned out the hotel wasn’t far from the railway station, so she made her way there quickly and stood nervously at the reception.

  “Hi. I’m Jane Fraser. I’m staying with Silas Garfield as his guest,” she informed the receptionist, who gave her the once over, taking in her jeans and leather jacket, making a point of lingering over her register as though Jane’s name didn’t exist.

  “Yes, I have a note to that effect.” She smiled, yet there was something passive aggressive in the way the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Room 622, on the top floor. Lift is to your right.”

  “Thank you,” said Jane, feeling about two inches tall.

  She waited for the lift impatiently, anxious to get away from the receptionist’s cold gaze. It was ridiculous really. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, the woman made her feel like an escort or something. She supposed that was part of the territory when you were hanging out with rock stars.

  That thought gave her pause. She was hanging out with rock stars. She had really gone up in the world. Plain Jane from Exeter was meeting a rock god. Jane looked back over her shoulder at the receptionist, “I’ll try to avoid the urge to throw a television out of the window,” she said, and as the lift doors closed, giggled at the woman’s face.

  She let herself into Silas’s room. He’d obviously been here, albeit briefly. His bags were piled to one side, one of them open, and his guitar had pride of place on one of the armchairs. She thought the room smelled of him although maybe that was her imagination.

  The room wasn’t as fancy as the Royal Victoria, but it was clean and bright, the bed a king-size, and dressed with simple plain white linen, and a red throw. Silas had left her a note on one of the pillows.

  “See you soon! I can’t wait! X”

  ***

  The cab dropped her at the rear entrance of the Symphony Hall. A gaggle of young men and women were crowding by the door, and at first Jane thought they were queuing to get in, however she quickly realised they were fans hoping to meet members of the group. Feeling uncomfortable, Jane pushed her way through them and opened the door. A guy at a desk looked up from his newspaper and gave her the once over.

  “Hi,” he said, “if you’re a fan you need to wait outside. The band promised they’d come out and do some autographs and photos after the sound check, okay?”

  “I’m not a fan,” Jane replied. “Well, I kind of am, but really … I’m with the band.”

  “Oh okay,” the guy said, like he hadn’t heard that phrase a thousand times. “What’s your name.?” He plucked a clipboard from the desk and looked at her expectantly.

  “Jane Fraser.”

  “Jane Fraser. Jane …” he ran his pen down the list. “Okay, yes. You’re in. Hold on.” He rummaged in a drawer and produced a lanyard, attached a card with her name to it. It sported the words ‘Backstage Pass’ in large letters. Jane was secretly thrilled. “Can you sign here please?” He watched as she did so. “Wear the pass all the time, okay? If you don’t, security will be within their rights to evict you from the building. Do you know where you’re going?”

  Jane shook her head.

  “Right. Let me ring for you.” He dialled a number and spoke into the phone. “Heyyylo. It’s the back door. I have Jane Fraser here. You will? Great.” He hung up. “Someone’s coming.”

  Jane stepped to one side, smiling uncertainly. She hopped from foot to foot, waiting for the ‘someone’ to arrive, her stomach in her boots.

  Someone turned out to be Dewey. “Hey!” he smiled when he saw her. “Thank God you’re here.”

  “Why?”

  “Silas hasn’t stopped moping since we left Bristol. He’s been driving me up the fucking wall.”

  ***

  Jane could hear Wild Dogz well in advance of seeing them. They were in a large dressing room, hanging out with their support act, along with Mo and numerous record company bodies. There was a great deal of noise, whooping and raucous laughter. Bobo was practising riffs on an acoustic guitar.

  Dewey stepped away from the door and let Jane peer through. Her heart beat hard in her chest. Silas was sitting on a plastic chair, a notepad and pen in his hands, tapping his foot to music he could hear in his head, and making notes. The chaos around him didn’t bother him in the slightest. Jane watched him mouth some words, and then as though he sensed someone staring at him, he glanced towards the door.

  He was out of his chair like lightning, flying across the floor. He scooped Jane up and spun her around, laughing. “Jane Fraser!”

  He whisked her out of the room and back into the corridor, nearly bowling Dewey over, before putting her down and cupping his hands around her face. “I was beginning to think y’all weren’t coming.”

  “I told you I was.”

  “Yes, you did. You actually made it. Are you well?”

  “Yes, I am,” she hesitated and added, “Tim and I are finished.”

  Silas drew back in astonishment. “Whoa. Whoa. Well cool. Does that mean…? You and I …” he fumbled for the words, and the thoughts, and the meanings.

  Jane laughed into his face. “Yes,” she said simply and he kissed her until her knees buckled.

  ***

  Much later that night they consummated their new love on the giant bed in the hotel room. Jane was touched by Silas exhibiting nerves of his own, trying to ensure she was comfortable, and warm enough, and happy, and that he wasn’t hurting her. And was she sure? Quite sure?

  She had never been more sure of anything in her life

  He was a tender and considerate lover, much as she had known he would be, and her body sang as he explored every facet of her. He seemed thrilled by her growing excitement, responding to her neediness by denying her satisfaction until she cried out for him to release her. He encouraged her to be bold too. Tim seemed an ever-distant memory.

  The snuggled together in the aftermath, his head on her shoulder, his hand between her thighs. She stroked his face, she could feel the beginnings of his beard.

  “I want to stay like this forever,” he said quietly.

  “Me too.”

  “We’ve got five or six more gigs in the UK. I want you to be at all of them.”

  She hesitated. “I have some leave owing, I can probably manage that. But then you’re off to Europe.”

  “Yeah, we are, that’s next week,” he peered up at her. She grimaced at him and he squeezed her. “Look, we haven’t known each other long, and yet what we have, it’s amazing. We’ve had more of a connection in the past five or six days than some people have in a lifetime. I was thinking about what your Pops said. He was right, you know? He said everyone has a special flame. You’re mine. I think I’m yours?” he checked for confirmation and she nodded. “We share that flame. It doesn’t matter where I go, I’ll carry it with me. When we’re apart we’ll both be keepers of our flame. And when we’re together, we’ll light the world up.”

  Jane’s heart melted with love. Silas the poetic heavy metal rock god. She was truly blessed. “I’ll miss you though,” she said.

  “Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?” and she nodded, never wanting to let him go.

  He took her nipple in his mouth and rolled his tongue around it as it hardened in response, simultaneously reaching up between her legs.

  “Okay,” she moaned and gave herself over to him completely.

  Chapter 12

  Eighteen months later

  Her suitcase seemed small and insignificant, standing by the front door, Roy’s leather jacket draped over the top. Jane had been sitting at her kitchen table waiting for the taxi to take her to the airport. She was flying out to New York to join Silas at the opening night of the American leg of their new tour, the biggest to date.

  As predicted, Wild Dogz had become interstellar rock sensations. Astral Scream was the biggest selling metal album of all time and had broken into the
mainstream. Wild Dogz t-shirts and merchandizing were netting the record company a small fortune, and selling out in record stores across the world. The European leg of the Astral Scream tour had been extended three times, and Silas and the band had crossed the Atlantic dozens of times over the past eighteen months.

  Jane had tried to keep up. She and Silas had finally become lovers after the Birmingham show. She attended as many gigs as she could reasonably fit in around her work at the supermarket. It had been an exciting, crazy time, and she had been giddy with the exhilaration of backstage passes, and the press of the media throng.

  Behind the scenes meanwhile, there was very little glamour. She hated the drugs and the groupies, the hangers-on, the phony friends who minced around and hung on to Silas’s every word, and most of all she hated Mo, who sneered at her at every opportunity. She enjoyed the company of John, Dewey, Bobo and his girlfriend, Mel, but found Mikhail a bit of an oddball with a penchant for barely legal teenagers. There was no doubt he was a phenomenal drummer, however, and there was no way Jane would have voiced her concerns.

  She was determined never to become a divisive influence.

  Instead, she made sure she was there when Silas wanted her to be. Sometimes she watched the gig from the auditorium, other times she hung back in the wings, staying well out of the way of the crew, and sitting on a stool that Dewey would find for her. Once the show finished, Jane let Silas do all the press and meet and greet stuff that he needed to. Sometimes there were parties – even fun ones – and she and Silas would drink and dance and mingle.

  When the parties backstage were merely gatherings of the supposedly great and the good, or even worse - those that thought they were, she would escape with Silas and they would walk for a while, grab something to eat or drink, and then head back to the hotel to hang out. Some nights he would practice his Spanish fingering on his trusty guitar, and she would lie on the bed listening to him playing the same bars over and over, remembering the first night, that wonderful night when they had stumbled upon the Spanish bar. She would smile, and be lulled to sleep by his gentle humming, secure in her love for him, and his for her.