‘What did her mum say?’ Bonnie asked gently.
Paige shrugged. ‘Her mum says that Annabel totally understands if I go and that if it was the other way around, I would tell Annabel to go too.’
‘And you would, wouldn’t you?’ Bonnie prompted.
Paige nodded uncertainly. ‘Yeah… yeah, of course I would.’
‘Do you want to go?’
‘I really do. But I’ll feel so bad that she missed it.’
‘She’s already told you she doesn’t mind.’ Bonnie paused. ‘What if we take a souvenir back for her? Like buy a tour t-shirt and get it signed or something? It wouldn’t be anything like going, of course, but it would be something at least.’
‘It’s not much of a consolation,’ Paige said doubtfully.
‘No, it isn’t. But there is nothing you can do to help Annabel whether you go or whether you don’t. She’ll feel guilty if you miss the concert because you don’t want to go without her, so either way, one of you loses. But at least a gift like that will show that you appreciate her letting you go and that you thought about her while you were there.’
Paige considered for a moment and then nodded. ‘Ok, you’re right,’ she sighed. ‘So, what am I going to wear?’
Bonnie laughed lightly. ‘That’s what I like to see… practical as always.’
***
Bonnie slipped a pair of heels on with her skinny jeans and examined her reflection in the full-length mirror inside her wardrobe door. She’d piled her hair up in a stylishly messy bun, wore a neat vest top and fitted shirt casually unbuttoned, an understated diamond pendant at her neck. The heels made her legs look longer, but would she be able to stand them for the three or four hours that she’d be on her feet at the concert? She kicked off the shoes again and pulled on her ballet pumps, looking critically at her reflection. Comfy, practical and boringly safe, or sexy but at risk of looking like a bimbo and falling flat on her face at some point? It wouldn’t matter, of course, if she was just going to see a concert. Steeling herself and knowing that in an hour or so, she was going to regret her decision, she pulled the heels back on and went to see if Paige was ready.
Paige was in her room applying make-up. For once, she was wearing an outfit that Bonnie approved of. She had gone for a short, flared skirt with a wide belt pulling her waist in and a fitted top, but the top was high-necked and subtle and the skirt just the safe side of short with a pretty fifties vintage look about it that somehow made it look more respectable.
‘You look lovely,’ Bonnie said with obvious pride.
Paige grinned. ‘You don’t look so bad yourself. Like a yummy mummy.’
‘I’m not too embarrassing then?’
‘You’ll do,’ Paige said, turning back to the mirror to finish applying her mascara.
‘Are you nearly ready? We need to leave soon.’
Paige screwed the lid back on the tube and turned to her mum, planting her hands on her hips in a model pose. ‘Let’s roll!’
***
Bonnie had wondered whether there would be someone to meet them at the arena, or at least a special door they would have to go through to make full use of their VIP passes, but as nobody had contacted them beforehand with any instructions, and none of the concert stewards on site knew what to do either, Bonnie and Paige ended up queuing impatiently at the main gates with the rest of the concert-goers. They had arrived early, and it turned out to be a wise move, as even an hour before the show was due to start the arena was buzzing with excited teenage (and some not quite so teenage) girls. They decided to see how effective their passes actually were, and wandered around for a while, trying different official looking areas of the building to see if anyone stopped them from going in. What they had dubbed ‘no man’s land’ (the area between the stage and the barriers separating it from the crowd), the side of the stage and a special drinks area all seemed to be ok. But Paige, having never been to a concert before, and being swept up in the soupy atmosphere of rampant teenage hormones, decided that she wanted to be right at the front in the crowd, so she could experience what she had assumed would be the best view of all.
‘We can see that in front of the barrier,’ Bonnie said, ‘without getting squashed.’
‘It’s not the same, Mum, in front of the barrier. Everyone will be staring at us and I’ll feel weird, like I’m not part of the concert.’
Bonnie laughed. ‘There’s no way you can be in this building and not be part of it.’
‘You know what I mean,’ Paige replied with a pout.
Bonnie sighed. ‘Right then. If you really want to get in amongst it, I don’t see we have a choice. But I’m telling you now that if it gets too rough, we’ll be getting out over that barrier. I’ve been to enough rock gigs with your nan to know that these things can get scary.’
‘You worry too much,’ Paige returned sagely. ‘This isn’t one of nan’s sweaty rocker gigs, this is proper organised stuff.’
Bonnie raised her eyebrows and bit back a wry smile. ‘We’ll see,’ is all she said.
Half an hour before the concert was due to start, the engineers came on stage to check the equipment to a loud cheer. Even though there was a support band due on first, The Musketeers, who nobody particularly cared about, the crowd was already pushing forwards towards the front, everyone in a territorial bid to find the best spot and hold onto it ready for the main event. Even before the sound engineers had left the stage, Bonnie was feeling tense and claustrophobic, not to mention very hot. And she was pretty sure that rock crowds weren’t that different from hordes of teenage girls (if anything, teenage girls were probably scarier) and that things were going to get a whole lot more uncomfortable before the night was out.
***
As it turned out, The Musketeers were actually quite good. Bonnie didn’t know many of their songs, apart from their one big hit, but Paige knew them well and jumped up and down along with everyone else, mouthing the words to the songs she knew, pretending to mouth along with the ones she didn’t, and the set flew by. They went off with a flurry and a roar of appreciation from the crowd, and then the stamping and clapping demands for Every Which Way began. If the audience had been excited before, the departure of the support band and the imminent arrival of the one they had all really come to see sent them into a collective frenzy, so that it became not a room full of separate people, but one, huge, obsessive creature, hungrily baying for blood. Paige began stamping too, shouting, ‘We want Holden, we want Brad, we want Jay, we want Nick…’ over and over again along with everyone else, her face alight with fervent hero worship. Bonnie could feel herself becoming seduced by it too, and she stamped and found herself wanting to shout and scream for the band to come on. The tension built and the stamping and shouting grew and grew in volume, and just as it reached a dangerous crescendo, the lights of the stadium went down and a great roar of anticipation erupted from the crowd.
There was a burst of fireworks from the stage, and in front of them, grinning madly and in various poses, stood the members of Every Which Way.
There was something about seeing them up there, backlit and awesome, that made them look strangely unreal; it was like looking at gods, not men. They wore different but complimentary outfits, colour coordinated, and even the colour and styles of their hair seemed to work together to produce an overall effect.
And even as these brief thoughts ran through Bonnie’s mind, she could feel the huge weight of the crowd behind her begin to push forwards and tensed herself to hold firm against it. She glanced warily at Paige, who seemed unconcerned, staring up, mesmerised, at the stage.
‘ARE YOU READY TO HAVE A GOOD TIME?’ Brad shouted, and a deafening wave of screams rolled across the arena.
‘I SAID, ARE YOU READY TO HAVE A GOOD TIME?’ he shouted again, holding a hand to his ear for effect.
The screams and shouts grew louder and the first bars of Don’t Forget Me struck up, only to be drowned out in Bonnie’s immediate vicinity by frantic squealing an
d not a small amount of yelled swearwords mixed with marriage proposals and offers of sex.
Slightly self-conscious at first, painfully aware of being the oldest person she could see up front, Bonnie got into the spirit of things. Paige was already swept up in the music and atmosphere, jumping up and down with her hands in the air, shouting along to the words of the song, and if someone had set a bomb off in there, Bonnie didn’t think her daughter would even notice, so entranced was she by the men performing in front of her. And Bonnie couldn’t help but get swept up too, so that three songs into the set, she started to jump with everyone else, and her arms went above her head and she shouted her undying love to Holden, because nobody would notice anyway, and it felt so good to let it out.
***
As things mellowed for a brief moment into a slower number towards the end of the set, Bonnie glanced across at Paige. Her daughter seemed quieter suddenly, staring up at the stage, though now she didn’t seem to really be seeing it. Bonnie had become aware of the terrific heat being given off by the tightly-packed bodies, of the sweat running down her own back, and could see that Paige looked overheated too.
‘Are you alright?’ Bonnie shouted.
Paige looked across but didn’t answer.
‘Paige? Are you feeling ok?’
Then Bonnie saw Paige’s eyes roll back in her head and she seemed to crumple. There was nowhere for her to fall, so she fell against the people next to her, limp and gradually sliding down to the ground. Bonnie felt her heart lurch in panic. If Paige fell to the floor, there was no way she would be able to get her up without the pair of them being trampled to death. She grabbed for Paige, pulling her up roughly under the arms and yanking her through the few layers of people right at the front with a strength she had no idea she possessed. Once at the barrier she waved frantically for the attention of one of the stewards. A burly looking woman came across to them, a quick glance enough for her to immediately understand the situation. She called across another couple of stewards, who hauled a now almost insensible Paige over the barrier, and then Bonnie too shortly afterwards. They took Paige to a chair at the side of the stage where a few other casualties stood and sat around about being tended to by first-aiders.
A cold sponge down the back of the shirt and a bottle of water seemed to bring Paige round just as the show was heading into its final song. Bonnie heaved a sigh of relief as Paige looked up at her with a faint smile.
‘Sorry, Mum,’ she said ruefully.
‘Don’t be silly.’ Bonnie pulled her into a sweaty hug. ‘I’m just sorry I didn’t notice sooner that you weren’t feeling well.’
Paige’s attention was drawn to the stage where the band seemed to be saying their goodbyes. There would be an encore – there was always an encore – but their night was almost over.
‘It’s been amazing, hasn’t it, Mum?’ she said with a dreamy expression. ‘I’m sorry Annabel didn’t get to come, but I’m so glad that you did… you’re like my other best friend.’
Bonnie looked at her beautiful daughter, wanting to hold her tight and never let go. Her eyes filled with tears and she sniffed them away. ‘Silly,’ she said trying to underplay the emotion for fear of driving Paige back into her usual uncommunicative self. ‘I’ve had a brilliant time too.’
***
After the madness of rescuing Paige from the surging crowds at the front of the stage, Bonnie was feeling a little delicate and in desperate need of a sit down in a cool, quiet room. She was pretty sure she wasn’t looking her best either – burning cheeks, her fringe sweaty and slicked off her forehead and her clothes crumpled. But there was no way that Paige was going to miss the opportunity of mingling backstage, and once Bonnie had got out of the crowds and felt slightly better for the clearer air, the excitement began to build in her too. They wandered for some minutes, completely lost amidst the confusing labyrinth of concrete-walled corridors away from the main arena, until they spotted a troupe of backing dancers heading towards a large set of red double doors.
‘I could really do with a cold drink,’ Bonnie said as they stood and looked. Now that she was faced with the doorway to goodness knew what, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go in. Who was she kidding? She didn’t belong to that world and never would, no matter what she wished for. They’d probably stand around in a corner all night looking like spare bits of furniture.
‘I’m sure if we have VIP passes, we could get one in there,’ Paige replied, something naively cocky in her tone.
‘You think? I’m not so sure. It’s one thing being backstage, another entirely to help ourselves to everything.’
‘Mum, Holden is so nice, do you really think he’d let us sit there and not offer us a drink? He’s probably got his own fridge full of cans and stuff and I’m sure he’d give us one.’
Bonnie glanced at Paige, whose eyes were bright with excitement. Ok, so even if she didn’t want to go in anymore, Paige did. And goodness knew Paige deserved one special moment in her life, and Bonnie could never hope to ever give her a moment like this again. ‘Ok,’ she said, rallying herself. ‘We’ll go and see what they say. Even if they don’t have spare drinks or anything, I’m sure we’ll be able to bob out and get something when the crowds clear out in the arena.’
‘Now you’re thinking smart,’ Paige grinned, looking across at Bonnie. ‘Are you ready?’
‘No,’ Bonnie laughed.
‘Me neither,’ Paige giggled in return. ‘But let’s do it anyway!’
They pushed their way together through the double doors and found themselves in another concrete corridor, the noise from the arena outside instantly muffled by the heavy doors closing behind them.
‘This is like a rabbit warren,’ Bonnie said quietly, suddenly feeling the irrational urge to whisper.
‘It stinks of dancer sweat,’ Paige whispered back, ‘so we must be close to the dressing rooms.’
Bonnie laughed softly. ‘Dancer sweat?’
‘It does,’ Paige giggled. She slipped her arms through Bonnie’s. ‘Come on, Mum, let’s go and make the most of these babies…’ she tapped the laminated bit of card that she had now hung around her neck on a lanyard, and they started to walk slowly down the corridor.
Bonnie pulled hers from a pocket and draped it around her neck too. ‘We look like we work here now,’ she laughed.
‘I’ll volunteer for costume change lady,’ Paige giggled, ‘I’d get to take Holden’s trousers off.’
‘Paige!’ Bonnie squeaked, but Paige just laughed.
‘I’m only kidding, Mum. Besides…’ she shot a sly glance at Bonnie, ‘don’t tell me you wouldn’t like to…’
Bonnie felt the heat rush to her cheeks. ‘They’re far too young for me, all of them.’
‘Holden’s twenty-three. That makes him…’ Paige paused for a moment while she worked out the figures, ‘twelve years younger than you. Not that bad really.’
Bonnie was trying to think of a suitable reply when she was saved the trouble by a door opening up ahead. A young woman staggered out under a load of clothes that looked suspiciously like some of the costumes the band had worn onstage. Paige looked at her mum and grinned. ‘I think we’ve found the dressing room.’
They hurried over and tapped on the door. It was opened by another trendy looking woman. ‘Can I help you?
‘We have these,’ Bonnie said, holding up her pass, ‘we wondered whether we could come and say hello to the band… they did tell us we could…’
The woman held up a hand to stop Bonnie’s rambling. ‘They’re already changed and in the Green Room,’ she said, pointing down the corridor.
‘The Green Room?’
‘Where the after show party is.’
‘Oh… ok, thanks…’ Bonnie began, but the woman had already slammed the door shut before Bonnie’s sentence had ended.
Bonnie and Paige looked at each other. Bonnie’s insides were churning, and by the look on her daughter’s face, she suspected hers were doing the same.
/> ‘Green Room then?’ Bonnie asked.
Paige nodded, and they made their way up the corridor.
***
As they pushed the door open, Bonnie held Paige’s arm protectively and peered in. The room didn’t look remotely green, and although this fact vaguely registered, it wasn’t uppermost in her mind. Beyond the crowd of sweaty dancers, Holden sat surrounded by his entourage like a king at court. Brad, Nick and Jay were sitting a little further away talking to a different, much smaller bunch of people. There was quite clearly a hierarchy at work here, one where Holden appeared to be top dog, despite the band’s public image of the boys being all best mates together. It was something that had not been so apparent when they had been in the intimate confines of the radio station.
‘He’s there,’ Paige squeaked, now taking Bonnie’s arm and dragging her through the throng towards him. Bonnie didn’t need to ask who he was. Although the rest of the band were lovely in their own way, there was only one member that either of them were really interested in. A huge mountain of a man stepped in front of them, stopping Paige in her tracks.
‘What are you doing in here?’ he asked.
Bonnie looked up at him timidly. While he was undoubtedly the biggest, meanest looking man she had ever seen, there was no malice in his enquiry, and the ghost of a smile played about his lips.
‘We have passes,’ Paige said, shoving hers under his nose.
He peered at it. ‘So you do.’ Smiling, he stepped aside and let them go through.
They approached nervously and watched a few paces away for some moments as Holden chatted and laughed with his circle of admirers. He was clutching a beer bottle, and dressed casually in a checked shirt and jeans, his hair wet, as though he’d just stepped out of the shower. There was a slight blush to his cheeks and his eyes seemed to burn with feverish excitement. Looking at the rest of the band, Bonnie could see the same fire in their eyes too. Being on stage in front of thousands of screaming girls was obviously an exhilarating business. Holden conversed with exaggerated hand gestures, and every time he laughed, his devoted fans laughed with him.
Hopelessly Devoted to Holden Finn Page 10
