What Goes on Tour

by Boston, Claire

  He paused before turning the kettle on. He should have known she would question it eventually. This could be the opportunity to tell her. He turned to face her and leaned back against the kitchen bench. “No. I never acquired the taste.” Never let himself acquire it.

  “I wasn’t sure whether it was just in front of Kate. I was going to ask you after we went to the Vietnamese restaurant. I shouldn’t have ordered the glass of wine.”

  He shook his head. “You weren’t responsible for Kate that night.”

  “Oh, good. I was worried.” Libby paused. “I’ve always seen alcohol as a social thing. It seems a little sad to drink by myself, so I only drink if I’m out with friends.”

  In his experience it was definitely sad and dangerous. The number of times he’d watch his father drink himself into a stupor, hoping he would drink enough to pass out and not just enough to get angry. He clenched the benchtop tightly and then relaxed his grip.

  Libby gave him a concerned look. “Is something wrong?”

  The kettle boiled and he turned to make the drinks, taking his time. Should he tell her the truth? It was the perfect opportunity, but was there any point?

  Their relationship was short-term, but he acknowledged the part of him that wanted her to know. He’d never had that desire before and he could trust Libby with his secret.

  It scared him how much he trusted her.

  He was uncertain, because he wasn’t sure how she would react. Would she think less of him or judge him because of his father? He hoped not.

  There was only one way to find out.

  When he finished making the tea, he turned to find her sitting patiently watching him. He handed her a mug and sat on the chair opposite her, needing the distance. “My father is an alcoholic.” He said it fast, as if it would make it easier, like ripping off a bandaid.

  Libby paused with the mug to her lips and then took a sip. “It must be difficult. How long has it been?” Her tone masked the sympathy he didn’t want.

  Adrian took a sip of his tea, allowing the warm, mellow drink to soothe him. “Since my mother walked out when I was two.” Since he could remember.

  Libby’s eyes didn’t leave his as she asked, “Did he drink every day?”

  He was unable to look at her. He could still play it down, gloss over the details, and she would never know. But he needed to be truthful for himself.

  “He’d have a couple of shots of bourbon before he went to work and then he’d start again the moment he got home. He’d stop when he passed out.” He forced himself to see her reaction.

  Libby’s mouth dropped open. “Who took care of you?”

  “My brother Daniel. He was four years older than me. In the early days we’d wait until Dad passed out and then take money from his wallet and stock the freezer full of microwave dinners. Dad never noticed the money was missing.”

  “What about other family – your mother, aunts, uncles – surely someone noticed what was happening?”

  Adrian shrugged. “Mum walked out and didn’t look back.” He took a breath to calm himself. “Dad blamed me for it. He’d tell me I was so worthless even my own mother hadn’t stuck around.” He still couldn’t understand how she could have walked away so callously. Kate wasn’t even his own child, but he would never leave her with someone like his father. “I don’t know anything about Mum’s family and Dad had been disowned by his. There wasn’t anyone to care.” When he’d finally got free he hadn’t bothered trying to track down his mother. She’d never cared for him.

  Libby’s eyes were moist.

  If she was upset about this much, he wasn’t going to tell her the rest.

  She pressed her hands to her eyes shut to stop the tears. “What happened later?”

  The instinctive defensiveness shot up. “What do you mean?”

  “You said, ‘in the early days’. That implies something changed.”

  He clenched his jaw tight. Trust her to notice his slip.

  Daniel had told Penny the truth and their relationship had grown stronger.

  But he and Libby didn’t have the same relationship. Nor were they likely to.

  The twinge of regret surprised him.

  “Sometimes Dad would get angry before he passed out.”

  “Did he hit you?”

  “When I wasn’t fast enough.” His heart rate increased as he remembered those nights when he raced around the sofa, trying to stay out of his father’s reach. He had to keep Dad’s attention on him so he didn’t lash out at Daniel.

  “How bad was it?”

  His father had made it an art to only hit where the bruises wouldn’t show. To hit hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to require a hospital trip. “I survived.”

  Libby placed her half-full mug on the table.

  “And your brother?”

  “He did his best to keep Dad calm and to keep him away from us. Some days Dad would lock me in the basement as punishment rather than hit me.” He had never decided which punishment was worse. The pain of a beating or the terror of the dark and the noises of the rats slinking around him.

  “I don’t suppose the basement had been converted into a nice, cozy den?” Libby asked, trying to make him smile.

  The slightly hopeful look in her eyes lightened his mood. “It might have been cozy for the rats.”

  Libby stood and pulled him to his feet, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He rested his cheek on her head and allowed himself to draw comfort from her. She wasn’t judging him. She still wanted to be near him.

  When she pulled away, she led him to the sofa and pulled him down so they sat side by side.

  “How did you escape?”

  “It was Daniel. When I was twelve and he was sixteen, he dropped out of school and got an apprenticeship with a builder. Got Dad to sign a consent form one night when he was drunk.” Adrian smiled at the memory. They had feared their father might not be drunk enough and would realize what he was signing, but their fear soon turned to jubilation when the form had been signed. “It was George’s father who owned the business. They had a flat above the garage they rented to Daniel. We packed up while Dad was at work one day.” He’d been terrified his father was going to come home and catch them packing, so he hadn’t done much more than throw his clothes in a suitcase. He didn’t have much more than that anyway. “They didn’t discover I was living with Daniel for several months.” Daniel had bought him several textbooks and he’d spent his days doing schoolwork. He hadn’t dared go to school in case his father found him there.

  “What did they do?”

  “They were going to call social services, until Daniel told them everything.” It had been a tense few days worrying about whether they were going to be split up. Fearful he would be sent back to his father.

  “George’s dad, Hank, went to visit Dad and I don’t know what happened, but from then on we were made part of the family. I swapped schools and would go to their house when I got home and do my homework with George. When Daniel finished work we’d have dinner with the family and then go back to the flat above the garage.”

  “How did George react?”

  Adrian chuckled. “Nothing fazes George. He has three sisters, so he was relieved to have some male company.” It had been a huge adjustment for both him and Daniel to be part of a normal family. A family who may have teased, argued and shouted at each other on occasion but who always loved each other. He’d been constantly tense, waiting for the laughter to turn to anger and for the beating to follow. But eventually he’d realized it wasn’t going to happen.

  George had thought Adrian weird at first but he soon understood Adrian hadn’t had the same kind of experiences as he had. It was George who had taught him how to swim, how to ride a bike and how to climb a tree.

  As a child he’d worshipped George and Daniel for saving him.

  Libby rested her hand on his thigh. “No wonder you and George are so close.”

  “He’s my other brother.” He closed his eyes at
the familiar chest pain he got when he thought about Daniel’s death. If it hadn’t been for Daniel there was no telling where he would have ended up.

  “Do you ever see your father now?”

  Adrian pursed his lips. “No.” Was she going to judge him?

  Libby seemed pleased. “Does Kate know about him?”

  “Daniel told her he wasn’t sure where her grandmother was and that her grandfather was ill.” It really was amazing that his father was still alive. George kept tabs on him, in case he realized who Kent really was and caused them trouble, but so far his father remained oblivious.

  “You’re amazing.” Libby turned his head and kissed him on the lips. “To have survived and come out on top takes a great deal of strength.”

  She didn’t get it. “It was all Daniel and George. They kept pushing me. I would have given up without them. I couldn’t stand on stage without crippling panic attacks when I first started. I kept expecting someone to tell me I was a fraud.”

  “Why did you want to sing?”

  Adrian shrugged. “It was the only thing I was good at.” It was the only thing that freed him from his life and allowed him to pretend, for a few minutes, he was someone else.

  He shifted on the sofa. He was uncomfortable with the way Libby was gazing at him, as if he was some kind of superhero. He wasn’t. He was a product of having a brother and best friend who cared for him. He could have just as easily turned out to be like his father.

  That was the main reason he didn’t touch alcohol. What if one sip undid all the work Daniel and George had done? What if once he started he couldn’t stop? What would happen to Kate? He couldn’t risk it.

  He stood and took both mugs off the coffee table. “Do you want another drink?” He walked over to the kitchenette, giving himself the distance he needed.

  “No.”

  He filled the kettle anyway and put it on, just to have something to do. He’d never told anyone about his past and didn’t know what to do now.

  The silence stretched out as he made another cup of tea.

  Finally Libby spoke. “Adrian, do you really believe you have nothing to do with your success?”

  Why wouldn’t she let it go? He knew he could sing, but so could thousands of other people. It was George’s drive as his manager that had got him where he was. She wouldn’t accept it, though. “I don’t want to talk about it.” His tone was gruffer than he’d meant it to be.

  She jerked back as if he’d slammed a door in her face.

  He couldn’t deal with this now. He was too drained and too raw after reliving his childhood. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m tired. Can we talk about this later?” He hadn’t meant for it to be an invitation to leave, but Libby stood and collected her things.

  “Of course.”

  He wanted to ask her to stay but there was no point. He’d offended her.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.” She kissed his cheek, ran a hand down his arm and left the suite.

  Adrian sunk down on a chair and put his head in his hands.

  Had she used his tone as an excuse to leave?

  Was she horrified by his background?

  Had he driven her away?

  Chapter 14

  Libby had spent the night tossing and turning after Adrian had told her about his childhood. Her heart ached for the young boy he had been and for the man who still felt so much pain.

  It meant so much to her that he’d trusted her with the truth. When he’d shut down, it had stung, until she realized she had to give him space. His defensiveness was a coping mechanism. She couldn’t blame him.

  She wanted to show him he wasn’t defined by his past, that he’d achieved so much and he was nothing like the father he’d described – but first he needed time.

  The next morning she sent a quick email to Kate wishing her and Adrian a good day. Libby was going to work on her manuscript while they went to the movies. Libby would head to their room in the afternoon to be with them.

  While she was online, she did a search on her name. She liked to keep track of what was being said about her and her books. Reviewing the results, she noticed a link to a popular gossip magazine. That was unusual. She clicked on the link and waited the few seconds for the site to load.

  Her stomach plummeted. She shook her head as if she could deny what she was seeing.

  On the screen was a picture of her holding hands with Adrian on the docks. The caption read, “Bookish Author Hooks Rock Star.” The story below identified the man in the photo as Kent Downer. Further down was a second photo, with the four of them: George, Kate, Libby and Adrian. Adrian had an arm around Kate. The article questioned who Kate was and whether she was Kent’s daughter or Libby’s.

  Nausea swirled around Libby’s stomach. This couldn’t be happening. Not only was Adrian’s privacy blown but so was Kate’s. Adrian had been extremely careful Kate wasn’t associated with him because of the potential danger. He’d mentioned his fans could get pretty wild. The only positive was they hadn’t mentioned Adrian’s real name.

  Libby snatched up the hotel phone and called the suite, hoping they would still be there. It rang and rang before finally she hung up. She picked up her cell and called George, annoyed she didn’t have Adrian’s number. George answered on the second ring.

  “Have you seen the article about Adrian online?” Libby asked.

  George laughed. “Which one? The one where he’s spent the night clubbing in King’s Cross or the one that puts him at a meditation retreat?”

  “The one of Adrian out of costume which also has a photo of Kate.”

  George swore.

  “I’ll send you the link.” Libby copied the address and emailed it to George.

  “Give me a second.” There was silence while George read through the article and then he swore some more.

  “I can’t get hold of Adrian to tell him,” Libby said. “They’ve already left for the day.”

  “I’ll call you back.” George hung up.

  ***

  Adrian hadn’t slept well. He couldn’t stop thinking about Libby and whether he’d ruined their relationship.

  The last thing he wanted to do was go out for breakfast and a movie, but he’d promised Kate.

  “Come on, Uncle Ade. I’m starved.” Kate bounced around the room with exuberance.

  Adrian took a couple of deep breaths to find his enthusiasm. “You got everything you need?”

  “Yep.”

  “Let’s go.” Adrian followed her out of the suite, his gaze drawn toward Libby’s room, but she didn’t appear. By the time he reached the elevator, Kate had already pushed the button.

  “We’re going to the pancake place first, aren’t we?” Kate asked as they rode down.

  “Of course.” Not even Kate’s eagerness was working today. He just wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep.

  When they reached the lobby, Adrian noticed a number of reporters waiting outside the hotel. It was unusual for them to be there so early, so he assumed some other celebrity was arriving.

  “I wonder who they’re waiting for,” Kate said.

  Adrian didn’t care as long as he and Kate got through without being recognized. He’d relaxed somewhat over the years but it didn’t mean that a reporter wouldn’t realize who he was this time around. He headed for one of the side doors, away from the main entrance, and they stepped out into the fresh Sydney morning air and set off down the street.

  “There he is!” a voice yelled.

  Adrian kept moving, hoping it was just coincidence that the celebrity had arrived as he stepped out of the hotel.

  “Kent! What’s your relationship with Libby Myles?”

  Adrian froze mid-step and shot his gaze toward the reporters. They stormed forward en masse.

  Kate grabbed his hand and moved close.

  His heart thudded hard. How the hell had they recognized him?

  Before he could react, the reporters reached him, each shoving their micr
ophones into his face.

  “Why the elaborate costume?”

  “Is the girl your daughter?”

  Reporters jostled for position, pushing him and Kate toward the building. Camera flashes went off with regular precision, blinding him. Adrian was so stunned he didn’t know how to respond.

  Kate tripped and landed on the ground with a scream. Startled into action, Adrian quickly bent over her, shielding her from the cameras. “Kate, are you all right?”

  She cradled her wrist, tears streaming down her face. “I think it’s broken.”

  Rage filled Adrian as he swept her into his arms. He had to protect Kate. “I’ll take care of you,” he said.

  The reporters were relentless. “Are you dating Libby Myles?”

  “Who’s the girl?”

  “What do you want to say to your fans about the way you’ve betrayed them, pretending to be someone you’re not?”

  He couldn’t answer these questions now. He had to get Kate away from them. She couldn’t be associated with him.

  Even as he thought it, he knew it was too late.

  Adrian drew in a breath. “Out of my way. She’s broken her wrist because of you morons.”

  There was a moment of stillness and Adrian used it to push his way back to the hotel and inside. Striding to the reception desk, he demanded, “Where’s the nearest doctor?”

  The lady behind the desk gawked at him as he put Kate gently on to the counter. “Sit there for a moment, sweetheart. I need to call George.”

  Kate’s tears had abated and she swallowed. “Yes, Uncle Ade.”

  Adrian’s cell rang as he drew it out of his pocket. It was George.

  “Get down here with the car. Kate needs to go to the hospital.”

  “Adrian, your cover has been blown,” George said.

  “Yeah, I noticed. Hurry up.” He hung up.

  Kate stared at him with wide eyes, holding her wrist behind her back. “I’m fine. I don’t need to go to the hospital. It’s not broken. I made a mistake.”

  Adrian recognized the signs of panic. She was breathing rapidly and starting to shake. It took him a second to realize the cause. The last time she’d been in hospital was when she’d been in the car crash. When Susan had left her alone overnight.