Rising

by Lisa Swallow

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Ruby

  Playing to Blue Phoenix stadium venues is a different experience to small clubs. The intimacy between the crowd and band is missing, especially as most are here to see the Blue Phoenix boys and not us. People hang out at the bar for drinks before Phoenix perform, leaving the floor of the venue half-empty when we do. Jax is put out by this the first time, but the other perks of touring with the guys soon make up for it. With three out of four of the band in a relationship, it doesn’t take much charm from Jax or the brothers to hook up after each gig if they want to.

  Some nights I loiter offstage and watch Blue Phoenix play close up, caught in my old passion for their music, which is now replaced with the passion I have for the lead guitarist. Jem never notices, he’s like I am when on stage; lost in his place of sound and colour, occasionally interacting with Dylan or playing the crowd. I cast a look over the screaming girls at the front; it’s weird witnessing the adulation of the guys by others at such close quarter. Fans swarm outside every hotel and airport; most often, we duck out the back but Jax “somehow” tends to get lost and find himself mid-fans and media.

  Blue Phoenix encore done, I head back to the Green Room; one where the backstage offerings from the venue are more than a single six pack and the bags of crisps supplied to Ruby Riot on their UK club circuit.

  “You swearing off alcohol again?” asks Jax when I refuse a post-gig beer.

  “Yeah.” I glance over at Jem who’s chatting to Dylan. Jem and Dylan appear closer, the strong friendship he mentioned clearer; but it worries me he hasn’t confided in Dylan about the baby yet. I passed Bryn, outside the room, talking intently to somebody on the phone. Liam ducks his head around the door to tell us he’s leaving to see Cerys.

  “So much for the famous Blue Phoenix party animals,” complains Jax and takes a beer from the counter.

  “I think they’re too old for that shit now,” I say.

  “Twenty-six? Fuck, I hope I’m not old and boring then.”

  Jem sits next to me, places his feet on the table and drapes an arm across my shoulder. “Who’s too old?”

  “You guys. Behaving like old men,” says Jax. “Yeah, I get you don’t drink, but we could at least party a bit more!”

  “Kinda burnt out, Jax,” says Jem. “You’re welcome to have your own parties; but make sure you don’t get into a life where a doctor tells you to stop or you’ll be dead before you’re thirty.”

  I grip Jem’s hand. Was he told that? “Thanks, Dad,” says Jax with a laugh.

  Jem tips his head at me. “Did you tell…”

  Eyes widening, I shake my head vigorously. “He means you’re behaving like a dad.”

  Jax doesn’t miss a beat. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.”

  Bryn wanders into the room, humming and grabs the unopened beer from Jax’s hand. “Cheers, mate.”

  Jax doesn’t respond. I can practically see his brain whirring as he looks between us.

  “How’re you feeling now, Ruby?” Bryn asks. “Still sick?”

  Nice timing.

  “Getting better,” I mumble.

  “Better in the evenings, huh?” He sits in the armchair next to Jem and leans forward to poke him. “Something you want to tell us?”

  “No,” Jem retorts.

  I stand and tuck my trembling hands under my arms. “I’m tired, Jem. Let’s go.”

  Bryn sinks back and watches as Jem stands too. “I always know when you’re hiding a secret, Jeremy.”

  “Shut up,” he warns.

  Jem’s doing it again, the protective arm around my shoulder, fingers rubbing my neck. We’re a tactile couple since we allowed ourselves; but this kind of touch is more proprietary, and it annoys me. I duck from under his arm.

  “Ruby,” says Jax, standing too. “Please don’t tell me you’re…”

  “I’m not feeling well, okay! Just fucking leave it!” Since performing earlier, I’m light-headed, the lack of food not helpful. I slump back onto the sofa and Jem immediately joins me.

  “You are! You’re fucking pregnant!” Jax waits for my denial, the shock on his face growing with each second I don’t respond. “For fuck’s sake!”

  Jax grabs a new beer from the table, pushes past Bryn, who steps to one side in surprise, and storms out of the room.

  “Are you?” asks Bryn. “Is she?”

  The yellow-stained ceiling spins in a change of reality. If the words are spoken to someone outside of Jem and me, somehow the reality is clearer.

  “It’s okay,” I murmur to Jem.

  “Yeah. Ruby’s pregnant.”

  I focus on the ceiling so I don’t have to see Bryn and Dylan’s expressions. “Umm. Congratulations? You’re happy about this, I guess?” asks Bryn cautiously.

  I twist my head against the cushioned sofa. I need to see Jem’s reaction around his friends. Whatever he tells me about how happy he is this will speak more.

  Jem’s grinning. “The best fucking thing.”

  I look to Bryn whose shared smile doesn’t match Dylan’s stunned expression. Please let Dylan say something positive.

  “Aww! A baby Phoenix. The world is gonna love this! Especially as it’s you,” says Bryn.

  “Why?” asks Jem

  “HELLO! magazine: ‘At home with Jem Jones, ex-bad boy and now doting father.’” He gestures in the air, creating the headlines with his hands. “‘Jem and Ruby at home in the nursery’.” He snorts. “Man, this is hilarious!”

  Jem’s hand closes on my knee. “Why?” he repeats. “Can’t you just be fucking happy for us?”

  “I am! Jesus, man, this is the best bloody thing that could happen to you.” Bryn looks at me. “Apart from the lovely Ruby, of course.”

  I told myself everyone else’s approval didn’t matter, but Bryn’s counts. I don’t know why, maybe because whatever Jem says about Dylan being the guy he’s closest to, Bryn understands Jem. Bryn was there for him at the dark times when Dylan couldn’t manage because his own demons were eating away at him.

  “I need to talk to Jax,” I say and stand.

  “The baby. When?” asks Dylan, breaking his silence.

  “July,” I say. “Jem, I need to talk to Jax.”

  “Tell him to piss off if he says anything that upsets you.”

  I arch an eyebrow. “Do you think you need to tell me that?”

  “Good point.” He rubs my leg and looks up at me. “Are you okay?”

  “Not the reaction I was expecting.” I smile weakly.

  Before I can leave the room, Bryn seizes me in one of his signature bear hugs and when I make an ‘oof’ sound, Jem springs to his feet. “Careful, man!”

  “I’m not that delicate!” I snap at Jem.

  Bryn releases me and laughs at us. “Fuck, this is going to be funny. You two are hilarious!”

  “And these hormones suck because my eyes are starting to water,” I mumble and head out of the room.

  Jem can deal with his fallout. I need to deal with mine.

  I find Jax sitting in the plastic seated stalls of the stadium, beer in hand, as he watches the roadies packing up. The large venue is clear, cleaners wandering the rows of seats; and the crash of the equipment being moved echoes across the empty space of the stadium. I sit next to him silently for a few minutes.

  “All this.” He waves his bottle. “This is what we wanted. I thought you wanted it too.”

  “I did…do.”

  “Then why get pregnant?” He turns his ice blue eyes to mine, I expect anger; but worse, it’s pity. “Why ruin what you have?”

  “I’m having a baby, not dumping the band.”

  “Oh, right, so you can do both?” he snorts.

  “What the fuck? Are you in Victorian times? Is my life over if I have a baby? News flash: people have kids all the time and go back to work.”

  “Seriously? You think you can do both?”

  “Now you’re pissing me off. People do harder
jobs than this and go back to work! This won’t interfere with the tour. I’m not having it… the baby until later in the year.”

  He pouts and swigs his beer.

  “That’s not the issue is it?”

  Jax pushes his blonde fringe from his eyes but doesn’t look at me. “You jumped from a controlling relationship into this. You never got a chance to find who you are, and now you’re tied to him.”

  I swallow down the fact he’s voicing a concern that follows me but there’s a bigger truth. “Have you ever thought that I found who I am in Jem?”

  “Sure. The man who says he doesn’t give a shit about anyone else and you got pregnant by him. Smart move…”

  “What’s this about, Jaxon? Me or the band?”

  “Both. When he fucked you over a few months back, you were a mess. Worse than you ever were with Dan.”

  “With Dan, I was numb; with Jem, I’m alive. We’ve worked through shit.”

  Jax shakes his head slowly, staring at the floor. “You deserve more from your life, Ruby. You’re young.”

  “Why are you so against Jem? Is this because of me and you?”

  Jax’s gaze remains on the floor as he picks at the label on his bottle. “Probably. Sometimes I think if it wasn’t for him…yeah, anyway.”

  I link my arm through his. “Come on, Jax. We’d never have worked. I never really felt anything with you; you know that. Besides, your endless stream of chicks seems to keep you happy.”

  “Yeah, for now, until I find someone I really want. Maybe a bit like you, but a bit less complicated.” He smiles. “And a bit less pregnant.”

  “I love Jem,” I say quietly. “I can’t imagine anybody else.”

  “Yeah, you two match. I always saw that, but at least you match in a good way now.”

  “So, I have your blessing?” I poke him in the ribs.

  Jax shrugs. “I guess. I’ll always look out for you though and if he fucks you around…”

  “You know what, Jax? Even if he does, I’m sure I’ll cope. I’m not putting up with crap from men anymore. Look at us; we’re fucking awesome with or without other people in our life.”

  Jax puts an arm around my shoulders. “Okay, I’m happy that you’re happy. It makes you easier to be around; you’re less of a bitch.”

  “Huh!” I shove him. “Cheeky bastard.”

  “Admit it.”

  “Yeah, okay…”

  We lapse back into silence, the tension gone. I leave Jax alone with his thoughts and text Jem to ask him to meet me outside the Green Room. I’m too tired to face the questions; they’re Jem’s guys and not mine. Jem has people to tell who’ll be pleased for him. He has a family who replaced his old one and he’s finally begun to realise that. The sadness that I don’t have anybody to share my news with is tempered by Bryn, Dylan, and Liam accepting me as one of their own. For now, I want to go back to the hotel with Jem and the peace and safety of being alone with him.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Six Months Later

  Jem

  Swaddled and held against Ruby’s chest, a white blanket shielding her from the cameras, sleeps my beautiful, baby girl. The commotion around us as we step from the hospital, and the tears that spring to Ruby’s eyes, surges my anger as I push through the bottom feeders trying to get their scoop. I grip Ruby’s shoulders, this shouldn’t be happening. The car is parked somewhere close, but private. Obviously not private enough. Who fucking leaked this?

  “What the fuck? Why are they all here?” I ask.

  “Let them have a picture,” says Pippa.

  When the latest member of Blue Phoenix’s PR entourage arrived at the hospital and informed us there was some media interest, she wasn’t joking. “No fucking way,” I growl. “She doesn’t belong to them; they’re not having her.”

  “They might back off if you do.”

  “Yeah, right,” says Ruby, adjusting the blanket to ensure our daughter is hidden.

  “My car’s parked out the back of the hospital,” I say. “We should’ve just driven instead of Pippa sending someone to pick us up!”

  “I don’t care. I just want to go home,” says Ruby, turning back to the building. Her pale face and wide eyes annoy me more. Ruby’s exhausted and doesn’t need this shit.

  “You okay? Want me to take her?” I ask.

  “We’re fine, Jem.” She ducks her head, allowing her hair to obscure her face as we head back inside.

  “Deal with them!” I snap at Pippa and follow Ruby.

  A couple of young nurses glance over as we head inside, and then turn back to their conversation. I guess they’re used to famous babies at the exclusive London hospital.

  We expected media interest, but not getting mobbed the day after she was born. This proves again how Ruby and me should stay in our world and do things our way. Why the hell did I allow Blue Phoenix PR in to try to arrange things? The three of us should’ve snuck out in the first place.

  Ruby hovers by the car in the July sunshine, red hair spilling across her short black summer dress, and I kiss her forehead before opening the door.

  “I’ll put her in the seat.” I hold my arms out and Ruby gives a small shake of her head, gently placing my daughter into my arms. She makes a strange baby sound, lips moving as if dreaming and I kiss her head, rubbing my nose across the blonde wisps of hair.

  “Stop sniffing your daughter and strap her into the car seat. I want to go home,” says Ruby softly.

  Awkwardly, I attempt to push tiny arms through straps and figure out how to clip her safely inside. I catch myself against swearing and Ruby places a hand on mine. “I’ll do it.”

  I rub my tired eyes, studying how Ruby fixes the seat, then stands back. Now her arms are free, I encompass Ruby in mine and hope I take some of her stress away. “How are you?”

  “Not pregnant anymore, thank God. How are you?”

  “Apart from the bruises on my arm and the abuse you yelled at me yesterday, I’m great.”

  Ruby smiles her magic smile that lights my world. “Yeah, sorry, but I can assure you it hurt me a lot more than I hurt you.”

  I twist Ruby’s hair from her shoulders and kiss her head, remembering how frightened I was for her yesterday. No way, I’d go through that and not break someone’s face. I think I’m lucky I got away with bruises. “I love you,” I whisper. “Both of you, forever. Our forever.”

  “Careful, Jem, you’re getting close to romantic bullshit there.”

  “Not bullshit, Ruby Tuesday.”

  She hugs me tightly and the tension leaves her shoulders. “Just take us home.”

  ****

  Ruby

  I wake from dreams of babies and Jem, immediately on alert for her cry, exhausted after the third night of parenthood. I’m surprised to see the sun shining through the window and the large bedroom missing Jem and our daughter; how did I sleep so late? I head out of the bedroom in my t-shirt and pants, and downstairs as I search for them.

  The tiled floors of the old farmhouse are cool against my feet as I check the large kitchen, and the silence worries me; this hasn’t been a feature of our house recently.

  Then I see them.

  Stretched out on the long sofa in the lounge lies Jem, shirtless with his daughter resting on his chest. His tattooed arms look odd surrounding her pink suit, the girl tiny against his broad chest. She’s facing me, her cheek pressed against her dad’s skin and lips parted, sleeping as peacefully as him.

  An overwhelming surge of love for both of them pushes through my heart and soul. The calm of the scene and the peace on Jem’s face removes any doubt that when the baby arrived, he wouldn’t cope with the reality. His constant attention to us both, the pure love in Jem’s eyes when he looks at her, at both of us, is more than any child could ever want. Jem can give his daughter everything; but the most precious thing he can give her is in front of me, all-encompassing, selfless love that holds us together.

  Jem shifts and tightens his grip on her, a curl f
alling across his face as he moves. I cross and kiss his forehead and he opens his eyes, looking at me in sleepy surprise. “She wouldn’t settle and I didn’t want to wake you,” he whispers. “She likes to sleep like this apart from when she’s hungry and I don’t have the equipment.”

  His mouth tips a smile at one corner and I kiss him. “Thank you.”

  Jem cups his large hand around her head, stroking her face with his thumb. “Can we sort this name thing out, please? Bryn’s started calling her Diamond which is bloody stupid.”

  I sit on the chair arm. “But we can’t agree and that never ends well.”

  “Yeah, but this is one situation where we can’t give up; we have to agree. I don’t think she’ll appreciate the name when she’s twenty.”

  “I know, but after my mother’s fail at my name, I’m cautious.”

  “I had a thought, but I’m not sure what you’ll think.”

  “A name?”

  Jem nods and closes his other hand around mine. “I thought… Quinn.”

  His words strike my heart. I haven’t heard anybody say his name for a long time. “Quinn?” I whisper.

  “It’s a girl’s name too, and it’s pretty cool. He sounds like he was a cool guy.”

  My eyes fill with tears. Stupid hormonal tears come so quickly these days; but despite the ache in my chest Jem’s suggestion causes, the name makes perfect sense.

  “Ruby?” Jem’s tone is cautious.

  “I guess…”

  The little girl shifts and murmurs, rubbing her face against him.

  “See!” he says triumphantly. “She likes it!”

  “You’re funny. And yes. Quinn. You win.”

  “Wow, I’ll add that to the short list of times I have.” He sits, carefully holding his daughter in place against his chest. “Come on, Quinn, let’s take a walk outside before your mum changes her mind, and wants to call you something boring.” He pauses. “What about her other name?”

  “One thing at a time, Jem.”

  The topic of marriage came up once and very briefly because I shot the conversation down before he got more than one sentence out. Not a proposal but one of Jem’s ‘we need to plan the future’ sessions. Jem bought me a ring and gave me it the day Quinn was born, insisting it wasn’t a proposal but a commitment that he’ll be here forever. I wish I could believe that in every corner of my soul, but I think it will take time before I do. Marrying Jem won’t take that doubt away; but I suspect my heart will win over soon enough. I twist the diamond and ruby ring around my right ring finger as we edge around the topic.