‘Oh, God, yes. Of course. I’m sorry…’
Danny sat down in Jemma’s vacated chair opposite Aimee, picking up the half empty bottle of wine. ‘Can I… ?’
‘Oh, please, help yourself. Do you… do you want a fresh glass?’
‘Nah. This one’ll do,’ he smiled, pouring the wine into Jemma’s empty glass, taking a large swig from it.
Aimee watched him, still unable to believe that it was him, the Danny Johnson, sitting there opposite her, sharing a bottle of wine with her. Talking to her.
‘You… you were very good out there tonight,’ Aimee said, absentmindedly fiddling with her watch strap, fighting the nerves that were starting to build up inside her. She just wanted to act as natural as she possibly could, but that was easier said than done, as she was fast finding out.
Danny looked at her, raising an eyebrow. ‘You mean you didn’t notice all the cock-ups? Frankie and Ross fell over, Cal tripped up – twice, and at one point somebody had turned Andy’s microphone off!’
‘Yeah, well, apart from all that,’ Aimee said, her eyes locking onto Danny’s, and suddenly they both burst out laughing.
‘1994 it certainly wasn’t,’ Danny smiled, leaning forward in his chair, clasping his hands between his open knees. ‘But, y’know, I guess we’re still getting used to being back together.’
‘Well, I guess us fans are still getting used to you being back together too.’
Danny said nothing for a few seconds, just looked into her eyes and Aimee felt her stomach flipping over a dozen times again, hoping to God nothing to that effect showed on her face.
‘Were you a big fan then?’ Danny asked.
‘Not as big as that bunch of super-fans that were in there tonight,’ Aimee replied.
‘Jesus, aye!’ Danny laughed, pushing a hand through his dark hair. ‘Who the hell are they? Scary stuff. Thought one of us was a goner when that beanbag bear came flying at us. If me reflexes hadn’t still been so sharp, and I hadn’t ducked, it could’ve had me eye out!’
Aimee couldn’t help but laugh too. ‘You do realise that we’re on a ship though, don’t you? And that means you can’t avoid them.’
Danny mock-shuddered. ‘I may just escape their clutches, seeing as it was always Andy and Ross that seemed to attract the more – ardent, shall we say – of our fans.’ He was still looking straight at Aimee. ‘Mind you, there are some fans I don’t really want to avoid.’
Aimee had to look away, scared that she was blushing again, feeling her cheeks burn and she could only hope that he didn’t notice under the dim lights of Hemingway’s.
‘Aimee… it is Aimee, isn’t it?’
She nodded, without looking at him, wondering if her lip gloss was still in place, and had her mascara ran? Oh, God, what if her mascara had ran? The smoky-eyed look always appeared fabulous at 7:30 when you first put it on but it was almost midnight now, and that Show Lounge had been so warm…
‘Aimee… I really wanted to see you again, after yesterday.’
‘Excuse me,’ Aimee said, grabbing her bag and running off to the ladies. So much for trying to act natural. She’d probably scared him off now, dashing off like that, but the irrational part of her brain had made her certain that her eyes looked like a panda bear who’d been partying all night, but when she finally looked in the mirror she was faced with the image of someone who still looked pretty good, despite the late hour and the fact she’d had a bloody tiring day. What is wrong with you, Aimee Anderson? she asked herself, quickly applying another coat of lip gloss, this time not giving two hoots that it was the one Robbie had loved on her. Robbie could stuff it. She had Danny Johnson sitting out there – or at least, she hoped he was still sitting out there – so why should she care about Robbie anymore? He certainly didn’t care about her. She’d promised herself she was going to have some fun, and fun she was bloody well going to have.
Running her fingers through her hair and shaking it out, she smiled at her reflection, pouted in the mirror, and walked calmly back outside, hoping that Danny hadn’t assumed he was better off with the fanatical fan club and gone legging it down to Revival. But no, he was still sitting at the table, reading the drinks menu, looking up as she sat back down.
‘You okay?’ he asked, putting the menu down and clasping his hands between his knees again.
She nodded, smiling, finally able to control the nerves and the butterflies and see this man for what he really was – just a man. He was just another man, albeit an extremely handsome one. She had nothing to be nervous about. Did she?
‘I’m fine. I’m sorry about all that…’
‘Forget about it. Look, can we go for a walk or something? Out on deck? Away from everyone else? Only, I’m never too sure if there’s a camera two steps behind me or not, and at least if we go outside, in the dark, Brummie Barry can’t follow me without making it obvious. He can’t film anything without light, can he?’
Aimee had no idea, but she wasn’t going to argue. ‘Erm, yeah. Sure. Why not?’
He smiled, that killer smile that had made him so popular all those years ago. A smile that could still be described as sexy even now. ‘Good. Then, let’s go.’
They walked quickly to the nearest exit that led out onto the deck, pushing open the heavy door and stepping out into a slightly breezy but still warm night, the darkness punctuated only by small wall lights dotted along the side of the ship.
Aimee fell into step beside him, neither of them saying anything for a bit, not until they stopped to lean over the side of the ship, staring out at the blackness ahead of them, the lights of Italy not yet there to greet them.
‘I really like you, Aimee,’ Danny said, and Aimee watched him as he stared straight ahead, his dark hair blowing slightly in the warm breeze. ‘I liked you from the minute I first saw you. There was just something so… I dunno… something so, real about you.’ He turned to look at her. ‘The fact you lost your balance, you were nervous but you didn’t put on an act… that was really you, wasn’t it?’
‘What? Slightly clumsy and always ready to make an idiot of myself you mean?’
Danny laughed quietly, looking away for a second. ‘No. That’s not what I mean.’ He looked at her again, his eyes locking onto hers and Aimee couldn’t look away. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to. ‘You know what I mean. Don’t you?’
Of course she knew what he meant, she just couldn’t believe it was Danny Johnson saying these things to her. But all of a sudden a rush of realism hit her and she broke the stare, making it her turn to look out into the vast darkness before them, the noise of the ship blasting its way through the Mediterranean waters the only sound they could hear.
‘Danny, you… you’re married. You’re married and you’re a member of a band that a hell of a lot of people would love to see get back together – including me – and…’
‘And, what?’ Danny asked.
She turned to look at him. ‘And I guess that’s going to make you quite high profile again, isn’t it?’
He shrugged. ‘My marriage is all but over, Aimee. Believe me, I’m not lying to you. I don’t know what you’ve read…’
‘I haven’t really read anything…’
‘Then I’m telling you, no word of a lie, my marriage is over. Aimee, look, I won’t lie to you. My head is in a bit of a mess right now what with everything that’s going on, but… I could really – and I mean, really – do with some fun. Do you understand?’
Oh, yeah. She understood perfectly and she smiled as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms, a sudden blast of cold air hitting her, causing her skin to break out in goosebumps.
‘I’m kind of looking for some fun myself,’ she said, leaning back against the railings as he moved closer to her.
‘That’s good. That’s – that’s more than good.’ He moved closer still, placing a hand on her shoulder, and suddenly those goosebumps weren’t only there because of the cold breeze that was blowing across the quiet deck. ‘That�
�s great, in fact.’
‘So, we understand each other then?’ she whispered, looking up into those incredible blue eyes and hoping beyond anything that this wasn’t a dream. This needed to be real.
‘Perfectly.’ He smiled that killer smile and Aimee felt her knees literally buckle so she was glad she had the railings behind her to steady her. ‘Look, it’s getting cold out here…’ he said, pulling back slightly, and Aimee felt almost disappointed, ‘… but, I really want to see you again, Aimee.’
Oh, she really wanted to see him too. She really wanted to see him too.
‘We’ve all got some time off tomorrow,’ Danny went on. ‘And I was thinking…’
‘I’m going on a trip.’ She’d almost blurted that out, but, as much as she wanted to see him again – and soon, just to find out exactly what it was that they were getting into here – she couldn’t let Jemma down. It was their holiday, not just hers, so Danny was just going to have to wait. ‘We’re going to see Puccini’s house, then we’re off to gawp at the Leaning Tower of Pisa.’
Danny frowned. ‘Puccini?’
‘Some opera dude, I think.’
‘Give me your mobile number.’
She looked at him, slightly surprised by how determined he was. Did he know she was only ordinary Aimee Anderson from Whitley Bay? SuperStyle retail assistant and Reality TV fan? She was sure he could have any woman he wanted, even here on this cruise there were probably far prettier women he could choose from to have “fun” with. But he’d chosen her, so who was she to argue? She fished her phone out of her bag and handed it to him, watching as he entered his number into it, and then her number into his own phone. Danny Johnson was giving her his phone number! How mad was that?
‘I’m going to call you, okay? And I’m going to keep on calling you until I see you again.’
Aimee just smiled, taking her phone from him and slipping it back into her bag.
‘Like I said, Aimee. I need some fun, and you said yourself you could do with some too, so, it makes sense to have that fun together, don’t you think?’
Oh yes. It made perfect sense.
‘So, Aimee Anderson, you’re either going to have to get an injunction out against me to stop me from pestering you, or give in and see just what kind of fun we could really have.’
She couldn’t help but smile. ‘I guess we’ll just have to see which way that goes then.’
He smiled too. ‘Yeah. I guess we will.’
CRUISE DAY 4
LIVORNO
5pm
Villa Puccini had been a bit of a revelation to both Jemma and Aimee. If the two of them were honest, they’d only come on this excursion because they hadn’t fancied the full day trip to Florence, but a few hours away from the boat had seemed like a good opportunity to grab at least some Italian culture, the only downside being that Laugh-a-minute-Lydia was leading the excursion – again!
But once they’d arrived at the village of Torre del Lago in Lucca, and stepped inside Villa Puccini – the former home of the famous composer which was now a museum – they’d been surprised at how fascinating it had been to step into rooms that housed so much history; rooms such as the studio containing Puccini’s grand piano – the place where he’d sat and composed his music – and the artillery chamber that was home to his vast collection of guns and hunting trophies, including a blunderbuss – the size of which Jemma and Aimee had never seen before – that the man himself had used for duck hunting, although quite how much was left of the duck once it’d been hit with that contraption was anyone’s guess.
After the short tour round the villa, they’d all been taken outside for an open-air boat trip on the beautiful Lake Massaciuccoli, part of a protected area that was surrounded by eucalyptus trees and wild poplars, a place that was both peaceful and stunning.
Jemma and Aimee had joined Bob and Barbara on the small, open-sided boat, sipping the gorgeous but very sweet Italian wine they’d all been given to try, along with the most exquisite biscotti – small, hard cookies that lent themselves very well to being dipped into the wine, which served to compliment the flavours of both – and it would have been the perfect trip had Bob not commented on the fact he would’ve preferred a pint of Carlsberg and a bag of chips, which ruined the refined atmosphere somewhat. Well, that and the sight of Marcie and Engelbert dipping each other’s biscotti into their wine before feeding them to each other like a couple of love-struck teenagers, but thankfully Brendon was nowhere to be seen on this trip, which was probably a good thing. Aimee didn’t know if she had the stomach to cope with watching her mother flirting unashamedly with two men in their prime. At the same time. Just the thought of it made her almost bring her biscotti back up for a return visit.
‘It’s quite scary how cultured we’re becoming,’ Jemma said as they stepped off the coach for the final part of their excursion – a trip to Pisa to take a look at the famous Leaning Tower.
‘I know. Weird, isn’t it?’ Aimee smiled, fanning herself with her excursion pack. The heat was ridiculous, even at this time in the afternoon, and she was glad she’d smothered herself in factor 25 before leaving the ship. ‘I mean, before this cruise the most cultured we’d ever got was being forced to watch an episode of The South Bank Show because we’d misplaced the remote control and neither of us could be bothered to go and look for it.’
‘There it is!’ Jemma said as they turned the corner, stopping dead in her tracks as she pulled out her excursion pack and unfolded a printed sheet of A4 paper. ‘The Tower of Pisa should accurately be referred to as the bell tower, and is one of four buildings that make up the cathedral complex in Pisa, which is called Campo dei Miracoli – excuse my Italian – which means Field of Miracles.’
Aimee just stared at her friend. ‘You trying to do Laugh-a-minute-Lydia out of a job or something?’
Jemma folded up the piece of paper she’d been reading from and slipped it back inside her bag. ‘Just trying to learn a little something about each place we visit, that’s all.’
Aimee shook her head, looking over at the famous Leaning Tower, which was surrounded by people making those stereotypical poses for the camera that made them look as though they were holding the thing up.
‘Quite impressive, isn’t it?’ Aimee gasped, slightly distracted by a crowd of people gathered in some kind of huddle a little way away from the tower, excitedly shouting out in a mixture of Italian and English. ‘What’s going on over there?’
Jemma stood up on tip-toe, completely ignoring Laugh-a-minute-Lydia as she tried shouting something above the noise about everyone having an hour to take photos and browse the souvenir stalls before getting back on the coach. ‘Hang on… is that…?’
‘Is that what?’ Aimee asked, also standing up on tip-toe, pulling herself up to her full height to try and get a better look. Sometimes she hated being Miss Average – average shoe size, average dress size, average height. A few inches taller and she wouldn’t have to keep jumping up and down like a demented jack-in-the-box to get a better look.
‘It’s Danny and Andy!’ Jemma exclaimed, looking at Aimee, a huge grin on her face. ‘I forgot, Bon Voyage used to be really big in Italy, didn’t they?’
Aimee kept her eyes on the huddle, watching as two figures emerged from the crowd, brushing themselves down as they signed the last couple of pamphlets, magazines and assorted body parts that had been offered up for their autographs. Her mind went back to last night and her late night walk along the deck with Danny, their conversation that had been loaded with meaning – promises of things to come that Aimee hadn’t been able to stop thinking about as she’d lain awake in bed last night, a million and one things going round in her head that had finally given way to a particularly pleasant dream involving Danny, herself and a large tub of chocolate spread.
‘Hey, Missy, you’re off on a visit to dreamsville again. What’s on your mind? Thinking about Dan the Man over there, are we?’
Aimee shook herself back to the here and now, ign
oring Jemma’s question, pushing all thoughts of last night and Danny Johnson to the back of her mind, turning away from him and Andy.
‘Come on; let’s go take some pictures of the tower.’
She grabbed Jemma’s hand and started dragging her towards the tower, fishing around in her bag for her camera, not hearing somebody sidle up beside her, but when they touched her arm she almost jumped out of her skin.
‘Jesus Christ!’ She swung round, ready to give Jemma a mouthful for scaring her like that, only to see her talking to Barbara as she took a photo of Bob “holding up” the Leaning Tower, pretending to huff and puff as though it was taking far too much effort to stop it from completely falling over on its side.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,’ Danny smiled, holding up his hands in apology.
‘Yeah, well, creeping up on people like that usually has that effect. What are you doing here anyway? I thought you’d be grabbing some extra rehearsal time seeing as last night’s performance wasn’t exactly perfect.’
Danny shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his faded, battered jeans. ‘I doubt we’ll ever get anywhere near perfect.’ He looked at her, wishing she’d take off those over-sized sunglasses so he could see her eyes because, if he remembered rightly, they were large and they were a pale blue-grey and he’d loved looking into them. ‘Anyway, the TV people want some footage of us “enjoying” some of the sights this cruise has to offer, so they’ve brought us here. To get shots of us trying to hold that bloody tower upright. They want us to look as though we’re all having fun, all bonding; all so happy to be back living in each others’ bloody pockets.’
Aimee looked at him, keeping her eyes hidden behind her dark glasses. ‘Aren’t you? All happy to be back together, I mean.’
Danny shrugged. ‘Everyone’s got history, haven’t they?’
Aimee raised her eyebrows. ‘Have they? What history would that be then?’
Bon Voyage Page 7
