Impossible Depths (Silver Lake series Book 2)

by McCallum, Coral

  It was almost three o’clock before Danny was finished the musical anklet tattoo. Gazing down at the finished design, Lori smiled contentedly. He had done an incredible job. She just hoped Jake would agree. Deliberately, it had been inked using silvery grey colours and that added to the detail and delicacy of the finished tattoo.

  “Decision time, princess,” said Danny as he put a dressing over the fresh ink. “I can do the other one in an hour if you want to go ahead with it.”

  “Go for it,” stated Lori confidently.

  “Sure?”

  She nodded as she stood up from the chair.

  “Ok, follow me, Mz Hyde,” said the tattoo meister. “The cubicle is ready and waiting.”

  Lori had designed a trellis of small flowers that she had originally intended for her foot. Instead, though, she had re-designed the perspective of it and asked Danny to tattoo it over the surgical scar on her hip. Lying on her side on the table in the small clinical cubicle she suddenly felt very self-conscious. Despite the number of medical staff who had treated her over the previous eighteen months, she was embarrassed to bare her derriere for Danny.

  “That’s been a neat job,” he mused as he swabbed her skin before applying the template.

  “I guess,” muttered Lori quietly.

  “We’ll soon have it disguised, princess,” he said warmly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I sense you won’t be sorry to cover it up.”

  “I won’t be,” sighed Lori. “It’s the easy one to hide.”

  “Lie still and relax,” he suggested softly. “Leave this to Daniel.”

  As good as his word, Danny had the trellis design completed within the hour. His delicate touch had amazed her again as she surveyed the completed tattoo in the mirror. At least that was one reminder of her accident gone forever, hidden beneath the colourful small flowers and strategically positioned stems.

  “Thank you. I love it.”

  “Pleasure,” he said as he removed his surgical gloves. “Can I take a photograph?”

  Shaking her head, Lori said, “Not a chance!”

  Laughing, he guided her back through to the main store. “Maybe next time, princess.”

  “Maybe,” she conceded. “Now how much do I owe you? This has been more than the auction lot was for.”

  “You’re good, princess. No charge,” he replied. “But can I ask a favour?”

  “You can ask,” answered Lori, curious to know what he wanted from her.

  “A friend’s coming into town next month. He’s coming to do a tattoo for me. I’ve not much bare skin left, but I need something quirky. About three inches by three inches. Can you come up with something?”

  “Me design a tattoo for you?” laughed Lori, totally taken aback by the request. “Whereabouts on your body dare I ask?”

  “My butt cheek,” he confessed almost blushing. “One cheek’s done already.”

  The tattoo parlour was filled with the magical musical sound of Lori’s laughter. Wiping a tear from her eyes, she nodded, “I’ll do it on one condition.”

  “And that is?”

  “You send me a photo of the finished article.”

  “Deal, Mz Hyde,” said Danny, shaking her hand. “I need it for the 4th July.”

  “Not a problem,” giggled Lori. “Now I need to hurry. I’m late for collecting Jake’s sister at the ferry terminal.”

  “Drive safely, princess,” he said, handing her the wallet of aftercare instructions and a jar of cream. “Till next time.”

  “Bye, Danny.”

  Instead of cooking dinner for Lucy and the boys’ last night in Rehoboth, Lori had booked a table for dinner at a family restaurant in town. Their table had been booked for seven thirty but by seven there was still no sign of Jake. She tried calling him but his phone went straight to voice mail. Through in the sun room, she could hear the boys telling their dad about their trip on the Lewes-Cape May ferry. Since Rob had arrived an hour before, the boys had been stuck to him like glue, regaling him with tales of the adventures they had had all week.

  Eventually, at quarter past seven, Lori’s phone rang. It was Jake.

  “Where are you?” she asked, trying hard not to sound exasperated.

  “Just leaving JJL. I’ll meet you there,” he replied, the phone reception crackling loudly.

  “How long will you be?”

  “No more than a half hour. Order for me if you have to, li’l lady.”

  “Ok,” agreed Lori. “You better have a good explanation for being so late.”

  “No excuses, Lori. It’s been a long fucking day. Nothing’s gone right, but Gary has decided to stick with us,” he explained wearily. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”

  The restaurant was packed when they entered just after seven thirty. Having taken Lori’s name for the reservation, the hostess showed them to a circular table in the centre of the restaurant. She gave them a minute or two then returned to take their drinks order.

  “What’s good to eat in here, Lori?” asked Rob as he perused the extensive menu.

  “Everything,” she replied honestly. “I’ve never had a bad meal here.”

  “I think I’ll go for a steak,” said Lucy before asking the boys what they wanted.

  Just as the hostess came back to take their food order, Jake came rushing in.

  “Sorry, guys,” he apologised, slipping into the empty seat between his fiancée and his sister.

  “You’re just in time,” said Lori, handing him her menu. “I was going to order you a fillet steak.”

  “Actually, can I have the flounder please?” requested Jake without looking at the menu.

  Efficiently the waitress took the rest of their order plus Jake’s drinks order and left the party to relax while they waited for their meal.

  “How did recording go today?” asked Lucy, curious to hear all she could about Silver Lake.

  “Slowly,” grumped her brother. “We’ve had better days. Lots of technical glitches today. Blown fuses that blew one of the amps. Bust strings. Wasn’t our day today.”

  “How long do you have to go in the studio?” asked Rob, who was interested to determine how long the whole recording process took.

  “At least three weeks,” answered Jake. “Maybe nearer four. Then Dr Marrs has to work his black magic and mix it all. We’ll be through by the end of July.”

  “Have you done any vocals yet?” Lucy asked.

  “No,” confessed Jake. “Drum tracks and bass are done. Rich and I are working on the guitar tracking. We should be done by the end of next week. Depends on how they work out. Vocals will take another week after that, I’d guess.”

  “Are the lyrics all written?” teased Lori, reaching under the table to put her hand on his thigh.

  “More or less,” he replied with a wink. “Now how did you get on with Danny, Mz Hyde?”

  “Fine,” she said with an impish smile. “I’ll show you later.”

  Deliberately, she had worn a long, maxi dress that covered her freshly tattooed ankle and foot, but that also hung loosely over the fresh ink on her hip. She had shown Lucy her ankle design, but had kept the other one a secret. It was for Jake’s eyes only.

  “You didn’t let him take a photo, did you?” Jake asked hopefully.

  “No, but he’s asked me to do him a favour,” she answered. “He wants me to design a tattoo for him.”

  “For him?” echoed Jake genuinely surprised. “Danny can’t have much bare flesh left.”

  “It’s to be quite a small design,” explained Lori. “Apparently he has a friend coming for the fourth of July and wants him to ink it then.”

  “And are you going to oblige?” asked Lucy curiously.

  Lori nodded, then glanced at Jake as if she were seeking his approval.

  “It’s up to you, li’l lady,” he replied. “Have you any idea what to do for him?”

  “A few ideas,” she said. “There was a condition to the deal.”

  “What?”
<
br />   “He has to give me a photo of the finished tattoo,” she said stifling a giggle.

  “Nice touch, Lori,” laughed Jake, understanding the irony of it. “Like it.”

  Both the boys fell asleep during the car ride back to the house after dinner and, while Rob helped Lucy put them to bed, Jake took Lori by the hand and led her through to the sun room. Politely, but firmly, he asked her to sit down. She tried to refuse, but giggles got the better of her and she collapsed onto the couch. Before she could even attempt to draw her feet up beneath her, Jake had grabbed them. He lifted the soft, cotton fabric of her dress and inspected the delicate tattoo. Flexing her foot and ankle, he nodded his approval at the way the design flowed with the movement.

  “Beautiful,” he said eventually. “Are you happy with it?”

  “Delighted,” replied Lori, admiring the design again.

  “I thought you were getting the floral design that you showed me a while back,” commented Jake as he got to his feet.

  “I changed my mind. I was looking at the bracelet the band gave me last year for my birthday when I had it on the other day and decided I wanted something similar to that instead,” explained Lori. “I designed it the next day and emailed it to Danny.”

  “Well, he’s done a fantastic job as ever,” commented Jake. “What are you planning for him?”

  “Something quirky was the remit. I was thinking along the lines of the zombies I drew or a gargoyle.”

  “Or you could do something real cute and fluffy,” joked Jake.

  “The possibilities are endless here,” giggled Lori.

  Much later, as they got ready for bed, Jake noticed the white dressing covering Lori’s hip.

  “Confess your other sin, Mz Hyde,” he said huskily as he reached out to draw her towards him. “What’s this?”

  Standing in her pale cream bra and panties, Lori giggled and tried to move out of his reach. He was too quick for her and had his arms wrapped round her before she could side step away from him. Gently, he peeled away the paper tape and lifted off the dressing. Under his fingers, he could feel Lori tense up.

  “Very pretty,” he said softly, gently kissing the skin around the fresh tattoo. “I think you’re developing an addiction here, li’l lady. Two designs in one day?”

  “Like you can talk, rock star,” she laughed, running her finger over his dragon tattoo.

  “True, but I’ve never done two in one day,” Jake acknowledged, running his fingers through her hair. “Now come to bed so I can inspect this more closely.”

  ♫

  Tears flowed freely as Lucy and her family said their farewells to Jake and Lori next morning. They left with promises to meet up at Silver Lake’s show at the end of July and, with a loud hoot of the horn and much waving, they were gone. Once all the breakfast debris had been cleared away, Jake said that he was going to take a run out to JJL for a few hours. First thing that morning, while Lori had been in the shower, he’d received a call from Dr Marrs asking him to come in.

  “I’ll be back for dinner,” he promised as he kissed his fiancée tenderly.

  “No rush, rock star,” she replied. “I’m way behind schedule here. I could use a few hours peace and quiet.”

  “When’s work starting on your attic studio?” asked Jake as he lifted his truck keys from the hook.

  “That’s on hold as of Friday. I got a call from the architect. He’s trying to redesign it. Something to do with the weight of the glass and the structure of the roof,” sighed Lori, a hint of exasperation in her voice. “I’m seriously considering abandoning the whole thing. The way he spoke, it sounds as though the whole roof would need to be redone.”

  “Not so good, li’l lady. Pity there’s not more space to build something attached to the house.”

  “I used all the spare ground when I extended the house before,” sighed Lori before quipping, “Back to the drawing board.”

  “Very funny! Now I need to run. I’ll bring something in for dinner on my way back.”

  With the patio doors and French doors of the sun room wide open, Lori managed to fill the house with the fresh smell of the ocean while she sat at her drawing board. As the salty breeze wafted through, she was soon lost in the depths of the artwork on the board in front of her. Similar to her recent zombie piece, the current commission also had a dark edge to it. It was for Molton, the band who had given Silver Lake their first big break on the west coast, and was themed around dark temples with rooms filled with dreams and phobias. Initially, Lori had struggled with it, but having listened to the music sample a few times and spoken at length to Tori, the band’s lead singer, she had developed a feel for what was expected. With hours of uninterrupted peace ahead of her, she hoped to break the back of the design by the end of the day.

  Swinging the truck into the driveway in front of JJL, Jake spotted Kola’s bike parked in the shade at the side of the building. It was unusual for her to be at the studio on a Saturday. From day one she had made it quite clear that weekends were for friends and family. Hooking his sunglasses into the neck of his T-shirt, Jake made his way into the building that was gradually becoming a second home.

  “Morning,” he called out, closing the door behind him.

  “In here, Jake,” called back Dr Marrs from the live room.

  “No one else in yet?” asked Jake as he entered the cool live room.

  “Just you today,” stated Kola bluntly.

  “Does someone want to tell me why?”

  “Jason wants the vocal done on that new song you played him on Wednesday,” explained Jim Marrs. “I’ve strict orders to get it done today and on his desk for Monday.”

  Shaking his head in disbelief, Jake asked if the other tracking was complete on it.

  “Paul was in last night doing the drum tracking,” said Dr Marrs. “And Grey came in too. Rich will be in tonight.”

  “Ok, let’s get this party started,” muttered Jake, obviously annoyed at the short timescale demanded by Jason. The Englishman’s demanding arrogance got under his skin and he could feel himself growing angry.

  “There’s a part two to this,” added Kola, shooting a dark look at the producer.

  “And what would that be?”

  “His royal highness wants an acoustic version ready too,” stated the sound engineer.

  “His wish is my command,” joked Jake, bowing theatrically in a vain attempt to mask his frustration with humour.

  After a brief debate, they decided to record all of Jake’s guitar tracking for the song, then take a break before recording the vocals. Once he was settled on a stool, acoustic guitar in hand, the musician’s anger began to abate. The song, now tentatively titled Out Of The Shadows, was so new that, each time he played it, Jake was tempted to change parts. After he had tweaked several sections, Dr Marrs halted him abruptly.

  “No more changes, Jake,” he cautioned. “Time’s against me here. This has to fit with the drums and bass track that I already have.”

  “Sorry, Jim,” apologised Jake with a sigh. “Want me to go back to the original version?”

  “Stick with where we are,” relented the producer. “But no more changes.”

  “Deal,” agreed Jake.

  It took them another hour to record the acoustic guitar track, but eventually both producer and sound engineer were happy. With the first part in the bag, Kola announced she was going out for coffee and donuts. While she was gone, Jake set to work rehearsing the non-acoustic version of the tracking. Again he was tempted to make changes, but a dark, growling look from Dr Marrs reminded him to leave things as they were. A hit of caffeine was enough to re-focus him and it wasn’t too long before they had the guitar tracks in the bag. From the control room, Dr Marrs gave him the thumbs up, then called through to suggest they stop for a late lunch. At Jake’s suggestion, the three of them piled into his truck and, deciding that Milford was closer than Rehoboth, headed up the highway in search of an eating house. There was a brief, heated, childish debate
about who wanted what that was cut short when Jake pulled up outside Bob Evans.

  It was quiet inside the air-conditioned restaurant with only a handful of tables occupied. Their hostess was a mature lady who teased them about looking like rock stars. This tickled Kola’s sense of humour, causing her to giggle uncontrollably into the menu.

  “I wouldn’t have thought you’d have been in a rush to stop around here?” commented Dr Marrs as they ate. “Wasn’t it near here you were shot at?”

  With his mouth full of salad, Jake nodded.

  “Shot!” exclaimed Kola sharply. “Tell me more, Mr Power.”

  “Not much to tell,” began Jake, trying to play it down. “We were playing an open air show sponsored by a local radio station last summer. A kid took a shot at me. Hit me on the outside edge of my knee. I tried to play on but I only lasted about three songs. I’ve still got a two-inch scar on my knee to prove it.”

  “Jesus,” muttered Kola, almost choking on her burger. “You tried to play on? After you took a bullet? Are you crazy?”

  “I didn’t want to let everyone down. I went to the side for some medical treatment, but there wasn’t anyone there. One of the crew threw me a roll of duct tape. I taped my thigh up tight and went back out. The guy brought me a stool, but we wrapped it all up short.”

  “You’re insane,” declared the sound engineer with a laugh. “Totally insane.”

  “It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

  “How did it feel going back out there next time round?” asked Dr Marrs curiously. “Weren’t you scared?”