Keepers of the Flame: A love story

by Jeannie Wycherley

  “Get off me,” she gasped in shock.

  He wrenched her arm painfully and she cried out. Thrusting one hand out to cover her mouth and silence her, he slammed her against the wall. She smacked her head and slumped to the ground, dazed. Her assailant was on her in a second, grabbing a handful of her blouse and ripping it. She cried out and he slapped her, hard.

  Then he was gone, knocked from the side by a greater force.

  “Hey! What the fuck are you doing, man?” An angry American voice. “Get the fuck off her!”

  Silas.

  Jane sat up with some difficulty, her head swimming. In the dim light she could see the two men coming to blows. Her attacker landed a good one to Silas’s face, splitting his cheek. Silas leapt up straight away and jabbed him on the chin, then kicked him in the balls. The guy screamed, and hobbled away, Silas yelling after him as he went.

  Jane groaned, blinking her eyes to clear her vision. Silas knelt next to her, smoothing her hair away from her face. The rock star millionaire, incongruous, kneeling in the dirt and among the litter blowing around in the gutter.

  “Jane,” he asked gently. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes, I’m alright,” she said, trying to knock his hands away.

  “You’re bleeding, honey.”

  “I am?” Jane asked, putting up her hand to the side of her head. Her fingers came away bloody. The shock of that made her feel sick.

  “Let me help you.” Silas steadied her as she tried to stand, hauling her to her feet when it seemed she would fall again. Her blouse blew open in the wind, torn down the seam.

  “I’m bleeding,” she repeated dully, reaching up to her head again.

  “Yes. I need to take you back to the arena. They have first aid people there.”

  “I want to go home,” she protested.

  “I know you do. We’ll get you home as soon as they’ve checked you over, okay?” Silas’s tone was soothing, her head hazy. Jane leant into him as he led her back the way they had come, wrapping his arms around her and trapping her blouse so that it covered her modesty as they made their way back through the gate and passed the group of fans still hanging around.

  Once they had gained access to the building, Silas barked out a series of orders. A first aider was sent for, a chair was found, and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. One of the security personnel went in search of Terri. Jane gave into the ministrations of the first aider, comforted by Silas’s presence. She watched him fretting, moving around impatiently, trying to get her sorted out, before finally allowing the gash on his own cheek to be seen to.

  “The first aider thinks you should go to the hospital,” Silas said.

  “They always say that when it’s a bang on the head,” said Jane. “I say it all the time when one of my students has a bump in the playground or the gym.”

  “Just to be on the safe side?” asked Silas.

  “I’ll be fine. It doesn’t even need stitches.” She grimaced. “I could do with a shot of whisky.”

  The security guard who had been sent off in search of Terri and Dewey returned. He’d been unable to find them.

  Silas squatted down next to Jane. “I don’t think you should be on your own until we can find Terri. Dewey’s staying at the same hotel as the band. If you won’t go to a hospital, at least come back there with me and we’ll leave a message for them on reception.”

  “Do you have whisky?” Jane asked.

  “Maybe you ought to settle for tea?”

  Chapter 17

  Wild Dogz had gone up in the world. Silas had a full suite of rooms with an enormous bathroom. He filled the tub with hot water and bubbles as Jane sat on a green chaise longue watching him, clad in her blood-spattered jeans, and the t-shirt he’d insisted she changed into before they left the arena.

  As promised, he had left a note for Dewey at reception, then escorted Jane upstairs. When she’d seen herself in the mirror, Jane had exclaimed at the blood on her face, neck and arms. Silas had argued against a shower, given the massive bump and graze on the side of her head, and so instead he had run a bath for her.

  “All done,” he said. “Shall I leave you to it? You’ll be alright?” He headed for the door but Jane stopped him.

  “No. Don’t go,” she said. “I feel shaky. Stay with me. Tell me about your life over the last few years. About Nyree.”

  “Jane-”

  “I need to know.” She pulled off the t-shirt, and wiggled out of her jeans, turning away self-consciously, to unclip her bra and slip out of her knickers, and eased herself gently into the deep bath.

  “Oh, that feels good,” she sighed, and beckoned to Silas to come closer. He came to kneel by the bath. “Tell me.”

  So he did.

  He told her about meeting Nyree at an event in New York that the band were attending on behest of their record company, and how Mo had set the whole thing up. Nyree had been full on and enchanting, and Silas’s head had been turned.

  “I can’t tell you, the whole experience was hideous,” he finished. “We didn’t have a pre-nup, but fortunately she had much more money than me, so I came out of it relatively unscathed. Financially, at any rate.”

  Silas dipped his hands into the water and flipped some bubbles at Jane. “Emotionally not so much. I screwed up. I knew I had, even before I stood on that beach and took my vows. It was the greatest mistake I ever made. Yeah. I stood there, and all I could think of among the whole media circus was you. But there were all the cameras and the media, and family, and the guys from the band … and I was a coward. A great fucking coward. I went through with it. And I’ve regretted it ever since.”

  Regret filled his eyes. “Can you forgive me?” he asked.

  “I’ve been trying to forgive you for six years,” Jane answered. She reached for a face cloth and Silas took it out of her hands, dipping it in the water and wringing it, then sponging off her face and her hair, the water blushing pink when he rinsed the cloth once more.

  “Does it hurt?” Silas asked.

  “Not as much as it did,” and the double meaning wasn’t lost on either of them.

  ***

  The love they made that night was slow and soft and achingly tender and as Jane lay spent beside Silas, the echoes of her climax continued for some time, her body thrumming with painkilling endorphins. She stroked his chest, tracing the outline of his pecs, content just to be.

  A sudden squall sent rain spattering against the window, and startled them both. Silas hummed a few bars of Keepers.

  “I do love that song,” Jane said drowsily.

  “I wrote it for you. I hoped you would hear it someday.”

  “I wouldn’t have, probably, except Terri made me listen to the album. I think Dewey must have given her the heads up.”

  “You didn’t buy my album?” Silas asked in mock outrage.

  “No, nor the last two.”

  “Wow. No wonder our sales were down.” Jane smiled sleepily, and Silas snuggled her into him more closely. “You really didn’t buy them?”

  “Of course I did,” Jane replied. “I just didn’t play them.”

  Silas laughed and stroked her shoulder until her breathing steadied and deepened.

  “I love you,” he told her. “And I’m such a fool.”

  Chapter 18

  Six months later

  Another day, another city, another strange bathroom. Jane exited the ladies dabbing at her brow. Milan was unbearably hot today and the sticky heat was really taking its toll on her. In addition, the seafood they’d had for dinner the previous evening hadn’t agreed with her. She had vomited three times since breakfast and this afternoon she was sporting a prickly rash between her breasts. One look in the mirror told her she was looking far from fabulous.

  She didn’t know how Silas and the rest of Wild Dogz did it, this constant uprooting from one place to another. The longest they ever stayed anywhere was three or four nights, when they did a series of gigs in one venue. That at least gave t
hem a little down time. Most weeks they were playing four or five different cities, and now because of the size of the arenas they needed to use, those cities could be pretty far flung. Jane seemed to spend most of her life when travelling with the band, either in a coach or on a plane, and it was beginning to take its toll.

  The assorted hangers on that travelled with the group could cause strain too. Some of the women were bratty, many of the men were loud. There was free access to all kinds of drugs, and plenty of hedonism. None of this was to Jane’s taste. She spent much of her time hanging out with Bobo’s wife Mel, or she stood in the wings and watched the show. When she needed to be at Silas’s side, she made the effort. Otherwise she waited patiently and quietly, well out of the spotlight.

  And then there was Monty. The little girl groupie that Jane had first met seven years previously had grown up. Jane had no idea how Monty managed it financially, but she was always around. These days she sported hair extensions, fake nails and fake boobs. She wore the correct heavy metal denim and leather wardrobe, teaming it up with Chanel and Balenciaga. Stunning to look at, she was the most poisonous woman Jane had ever known, constantly bitching about the other women on the scene or inveigling herself with record company execs, or other rock stars who came backstage to meet the boys. To be fair, Monty was discriminatory, she only slept with the millionaires.

  Every time Jane left Silas to return to her real life in Bristol, she worried about him. She and Silas had continued to see each other at weekends, as and when he was close enough to fly to. She’d travelled to Reykjavik, Paris, Dublin, Malmo, Copenhagen, Antwerp and Budapest in the last two months alone, and during leave from work she had managed a week in the USA for the first time, which had been a treat, and Russia which had been an eye-opener. Now here she was in beautiful Italy during her summer break, and they would be travelling on to Spain and Portugal before heading back to the States for a much needed break.

  And this time, when Wild Dogz headed to the USA, Jane was going with Silas. Permanently.

  She had handed her notice in at school, and intended to rent out her little terraced house in Bristol. Eventually, if everything worked out well between them, she would sell it. She had a few reservations, of course she did, she was only human. She wasn’t sure the constant touring would suit her, and yet the idea of being alone in a big house in the USA somewhere, waiting for her man to come home to her, didn’t appeal either. In the UK she had a career and felt useful. She was too young to become a fully-paid up member of the ladies-who-lunch-and-drink-latte club.

  She made her way back to Silas’s dressing room. Gone were the days when Wild Dogz would hang out together in the Green room. Nowadays Silas preferred to spend time alone in the run up to the show. He figured the group saw enough of each other while they were travelling. She poked her head around the door and watched him for a bit, his head down, bent over his guitar, picking out a new tune, an open bottle of Jack Daniels close to his right hand.

  Jane was alarmed to see how much of the bottle had already been consumed. It was only 7 pm. He wouldn’t be on stage for over two hours.

  “You should go steady with that,” she said gently, walking towards him to take the bottle away.

  He looked up, annoyed at the interruption, and snatched at the bottle before she could reach it.

  Jane pulled a face and held her hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, hot shot. I just don’t want you to get so bladdered you can’t make it out on to the stage.”

  “I won’t be bladdered,” he mimicked her English accent, “it helps takes the edge off, is all.”

  “Takes the edge off? You’ve never suffered with stage fright,” Jane said, perplexed.

  “Well I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

  Jane puffed he cheeks out and considered her lover. Why was he being so short with her? His face seemed pale, shadows under his eyes, definitely in need of a break and a little tender loving care. Well, the latter she could do for him. She moved behind him, intending to massage his neck and shoulders and loosen him up a little, but he shook her off.

  “Sorry,” she said, hurt at his curt dismissal, although determined to get through to him somehow. “What’s up, baby?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “I’m a little tense is all.” He sighed and looked up at her, seeming to notice her for the first time. “You look rough.”

  “I feel a bit dodgy. My stomach’s off.”

  “Something you ate?”

  “Maybe the food I had in the restaurant last night.”

  “You look a little green around the gills, that’s for sure. Maybe you should head back to the hotel,” Silas suggested helpfully.

  Jane considered him for a moment. “Are you sure? You don’t want me here?”

  Silas shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.”

  “Try not to be too late, you look totally beat.” Jane bent down and kissed him, unaware that it would be the last time she would ever do that.

  Chapter 19

  The short walk back to the hotel helped to clear Jane’s nausea, however the heat was unbearable. As soon as she reached her suite, she jumped into the shower and washed her hair. Sitting naked on the bed, combing her hair through with the air-conditioning at full blast, brought some welcome relief for a while, but she felt restless, as though she needed to be back at the arena with Silas.

  She decided to go in search of a pharmacy to get some cream or talcum to treat her prickly heat rash and then walk back to the arena and surprise him, maybe take him something. She changed into a maxi dress and teamed it with a pair of strappy sandals, and some colourful bangles. She grabbed her purse and backstage pass and headed out of the hotel, out into the warm evening air, with the dusk fast approaching, her damp hair helping to keep her cool.

  She didn’t speak much Italian at all, and the pharmacist didn’t seem to speak much English, so she pulled the neckline of her dress aside just enough to allow the pharmacist to see the issue. She pulled a face and made an ‘ooh’ noise and quickly found Jane an emollient to apply. Jane thanked her and began to leave the store, when she spotted the pregnancy testing kits.

  Jane’s heart skipped a beat. When was the last time she’d seen her period? Is this why she had been feeling so peculiar of late? So nauseous?

  Jane picked up one of the kits. The primary language was Italian on the box, but it stood to reason there would be additional instructions in other languages on the information leaflet inside. And if there weren’t, so what? How difficult would it be to use? You peed on the stick and if you were pregnant there would be a line. That much would be the same wherever in the world you were.

  She made her way back to the counter and handed the little box to the pharmacist, who smiled a little uncertainly. Jane understood that look. How could you tell whether the purchaser of a pregnancy test would be happy or sad about the results? Would Jane be pleased with a positive result? She thought about it for a moment, and a moment was all she needed. She was twenty-nine, she loved Silas, they would soon be together permanently, this would be the icing on the cake. She beamed at the pharmacist who laughed and handed her change over.

  ***

  The area around the arena was buzzing with people. Jane slipped through the rear entrance juggling two ice-cold mango and raspberry smoothies she’d purchased from a street vendor in one hand and her pass in the other. The hit of vitamin C was obviously what she needed, and hopefully Silas would enjoy one too. He generally loved fruit. She guessed he could always add a splash of Jack Daniels to his, if he was still needing to take the edge off.

  She found her way back to his dressing room. Twenty-to-nine. He’d be gearing up to go onstage. She didn’t bother knocking, just pulled the handle down with one elbow and pushed her way in.

  He was pretty much where she’d left him, except instead of holding the guitar in his lap, he’d replaced it with Monty. A naked, hip-wriggling Monty. And instead of the bottle of Jack Daniels, several lines of coke were
neatly lain out on the shelf to Silas’s left.

  Jane dropped the smoothies to the floor in shock and caught her breath, taking in the scene with deep dismay. Silas and Monty looked up at her in unison, Silas with a look of fear and horror, Monty with amusement.

  Silas pushed Monty off and she stood, completely unabashed at her nakedness. Her face was flushed from exertion in the heat, rather than embarrassment. She flipped her long blonde hair over one shoulder and smiled with lips of cherry red. “Oops,” she said, her eyes glowing with triumph.

  Jane stared at Monty with hatred. You could lay a ruler in the gap between her perfectly orb-shaped breasts, and trace every rib on her well-defined rib cage. She was unnatural, a monstrosity. And Silas was attracted to that? What did that say about Jane’s soft and imperfect body? How would he feel if she was pregnant? Would he tolerate her weight gain and stretch marks? It was a moot point.

  Silas hauled himself off his chair, pulling up his leather trousers and struggling to button the fly. “Jane,” he began. She shook her head and held up a shaking hand. What could he possibly have to say that she hadn’t heard before.

  “You just can’t keep it in your trousers, can you Silas?” she said, her voice at once mild, and yet covering a volcano of hot fury. She turned about. Time to walk away.

  Silas called after her, and Jane slowed. She wasn’t listening to what he had to say, she was simply considering her options. She would find Dewey and he would organise for her to fly back to the UK in the morning. Then she would take one day at a time to recover from this absolute nonsense.

  She should be mad, she knew that. She should be crazy with anger that he had betrayed her again, however if what she suspected was true, if Jane was carrying his child, she needed think of the baby, not herself, and most certainly not Silas.