by Lily Morton
I become aware of a lull in conversation and looking back I realize that all three of them are staring at me. Shit, I’ve obviously missed something. “Erm,” I say intelligently, and Noa smirks.
Charlie is glaring at me so I focus on Sid’s smile. “You are a dolly daydream,” he says affectionately, pulling on a strand of my hair. “We were just saying that Seth and Bram are coming round this afternoon so we can run through some of the new stuff and tweak it. So, we thought we’d have a band meal tonight. What do you think Mabes?”
I smile widely. I love the other guys in the band - they’re lovely and just like my family. “I think that’s a great idea. I haven’t seen the boys for ages,” I say enthusiastically, and Charlie forgets his mood for a second and grins widely at me. For a moment we smile at each other, and then Noa stirs and grabs his attention.
“I’ll go and arrange it with Mrs M then,” he says. “I spoke to her earlier and she’s fine with it.”
I thought she would be because she dislikes being tied to regular hours and things like a rock star dinner party please her enormously.
“Oh no darling,” purrs Noa, and I feel sick as I see her French manicured fingers slipping up his thigh and heading for his crotch. “We’ve got things to do that are much more important than arranging dinner don’t you think? Mabel can do it I’m sure,” she smirks at me. “After all she’s not working and I’m sure she’s got nothing important to do this afternoon.”
“Do you mind Mabes?” says Charlie almost hesitantly as Noa pulls him to his feet and starts to steer him out of the room. “I can help if you want me to.”
“No, no,” I say waving him on, and hoping he doesn’t notice the tremors in my fingers. I feel utterly sick inside at the thought of what they’re going to do in a minute. “I’ll be fine.”
Although, as they disappear for their shagfest I really have to question whether this is true.
Six
I can’t sit still after they go upstairs so I decide to go out for a walk. I spend a while strolling along the High Street peering in shop windows with no intention of buying anything. I feel utterly lost at the moment as everything I’ve ever known is changing. It’s like standing on a pebble beach when the stones shift underneath you and you never feel that you have a secure footing. I’ve never been able to stomach the thought of Charlie with another woman as it feels like acid is building up inside me, but I’ve always consoled myself with the thought that they’re temporary and that I’ll have a piece of him forever. However, we don’t feel like such a forever kind of thing anymore and a feeling is taking root inside me that this might be the start of the end of us. The distance between us over the last few months had been barely tolerable but because a part of me always knew he was there in the background it was bearable. I don’t know what to do with the pain that threatens me at the thought of not seeing him anymore so I just keep walking. After meandering for an hour I’ve come to no revelation apart from the fact that I must put on a brave face and just get through the next few weeks pretending that nothing has changed, because the thought of him feeling sorry for me is intolerable. Decision made I wend my way back.
A couple of hours later I’m in the kitchen with Mrs M deciding on what to serve for dinner. The band regularly get together for meals and they’re usually long and very alcohol fuelled, so while Mrs M potters about in the massive larder, I’m checking the wine cabinet and how much spirits we’ve got left. Luckily there’s enough there because Mrs M is always ready for this sort of occasion.
Charlie’s very lucky really because despite her eccentricities her true talent is cooking, and tonight she’s decided to make Beef Stroganoff with a wild mushroom rice followed by a Vanilla Pannacotta with poached figs. “What about Noa?” I ask, pulling my head out of the chiller cabinet to look at Mrs M. “She’s vegetarian isn’t she? Are you doing her something?”
“There’s some lettuce leaves in the fridge,” she sniffs dismissively. “If she doesn’t like that she can just eat the rice.”
“You can’t do that,” I hiss. “Charlie’ll be really cross. You know how he is about guests.”
“Listen lovey if that skinny witch gets her foot in the door here I’ll be out on my ear anyway, so who cares about making her happy.”
“Don’t say that,” I protest. “Charlie will never let that happen. He’s always said that you’ll leave over his dead body. You know that.”
“Fanny will draw him further than dynamite will blow him,” intones Mrs M in the manner of someone imparting great wisdom.
I gape at her for a second. “What exactly does that mean?” I ask slowly.
“Not sure,” she considers. “My uncle used to say it about his ex-wife. I think it means that the skinny witch’s vagina has magical superpowers and will rule Charlie’s life.”
“Hmm, I’ve not heard that before,” I say faintly. “Is that an old biblical proverb do you think?”
We look at each other and break into laughter which is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. “I’ll get it,” I say.
“I’m sure you will love. It’s damn certain that the pipe cleaner upstairs isn’t going to break a fingernail,” comes the pithy retort.
I pull open the door to be immediately scooped up into a huge hug. “Seth,” I squeal with delight. “It’s been ages. How are you babe?”
The huge drummer twirls me again. I’ve always had a soft spot for Seth. He’s American and met the other boys when they were in sixth form and while he was travelling the world. His dad abandoned him when he was a baby and when his mum died there was no one left to keep him at home so he decided to travel. He met them at a pub they were playing at which happened to be the night that their original drummer walked out after a row over a girl with Sid. Seth offered to help and never left, and the band became his new family. He’s huge and I mean huge - 6 feet 5 inches with big muscles and an incredibly toned body, and although he’s got a temper, he’s also one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. There’s never been a sob story invented that he didn’t listen to. “Look at you,” I say. “When did you cut your hair?”
“Last week,” he says in his deep drawl, lowering me to the ground. “I just got bored of it getting in the way.”
“It looks great,” I say, and it’s true. Seth’s got jet black hair which used to be long but is now cut to neck length, and it emphasises one of his best features which are his clear, bottle green eyes. “I think you’ve got more hair on your face now than on your head,” I smile, tugging at his black beard. “Very hipster swag,” I smirk and he laughs and then his attention shifts to the stairs as Charlie comes down buttoning his jeans.
“Mate,” he says with a smile and grabs Charlie with a huge bear hug. “How’s it going? Sid says you’ve got some brilliant new stuff.”
As the two launch into music talk I’m stunned by a massive smack on my backside until I then hear a dark chocolate voice with an Irish lilt saying, “Mabel my love when are you going to stop hanging around with this loser and run away with me?” I laugh and throw my arms around the last member of the band, Bram, the bass guitarist. This is never a chore I have to say. All the boys in the band are hot but Bram has that in spades. He looks like a supermodel, having a long lean body, close cropped brown hair, masses of stubble and gold coloured eyes. I think what gives him the edge though is his Irish accent which he’s never lost despite moving here to live with his aunt and uncle when he was a teenager. The other two men move in on him and bury him under a wave of man hugs but when they stop Bram turns serious.
“How’s Sid?” he asks Charlie in a low voice, checking to see that he’s not around. “He says he’s doing okay but I want you to tell us as well.”
“He’s okay at the moment touch wood,” Charlie says, tapping his head which makes me smile because I’d seen Jen do this hundreds of times when we were kids. “We’ve just got to keep an eye on him that’s all, make sure none of those fuckers get near him.”
“What about
Leah?” asks Seth and Charlie shrugs.
“No idea mate. I haven’t seen her at all since the overdose and Sid’s being very close mouthed about that bitch. He won’t tell me anything so let’s include her in the list of people to say fuck off to.”
“I hear you,” Bram says. “I never liked those bastards. It would give me the greatest pleasure to knock some of their fucking teeth out.”
“What are you talking about?” comes Sid’s sing song voice, and he smiles as they jump. “Oh, were you talking about little old me?”
“Not everything has to be about you, you self centered fuckwit,” Seth says calmly.
I gasp but Sid sniggers and then they’re all hugging him and ruffling his hair and I meander upstairs to give them some space. They disappear off down to the studio quickly after that and it does my heart good to see how happy and focused Sid looks. He’s right, work has never been a problem and that’s a relief because the band’s a big family and no member is replaceable. If one left they’d fold because their friendship is based on years of shared experiences both as children and as men, and that can’t be replicated.
It’s dark when I finally walk down to the studio to tell them that dinner’s ready, enjoying the lingering warmth of the garden and the heady scent of the flowers. I’ve had a shower and got changed into a white lace dress with a round neck and short sleeves that are both piped in black. It falls to mid-thigh and makes my legs look long and brown. I’ve left my hair loose, falling down my back in waves, and I’m wearing black ballet pumps. On entering I see them in the practice room. They’re playing something that I haven’t heard before. It’s very bass and drum driven, with a slow, almost hypnotic beat over which Charlie is crooning something about fucking a woman. I stand in the door for a second unable to move. Although they’re renowned for their quirky and bad boy dirty lyrics combined with seriously contagious tunes, it doesn’t hurt that they’re all seriously, off the charts hot. However, it’s Charlie who catches the eye most. On stage he’s one of the most mesmerizing performers I’ve ever seen, and even when he’s still, there’s just something about him that’s so vital it draws the eye.
Just then Charlie opens his eyes and catches sight of me but instead of breaking off like he normally would, he seems to sing directly at me, and suddenly I take note of the lyrics. He’s singing about wanting so desperately to fuck a girl that he’s telling her the details of what he’s going to do to her as a sort of foreplay.
It’s a seriously sexy song and is bound to be another number one for them but I can’t think of that at the moment because everyone else has faded away. With him focusing the full weight of his personality on me it’s almost as if he’s written this song for me, and when he finishes singing he’s going to move to me and take what I’ve always been so willing to give.
I exist in this bubble for what seems like a lifetime but in reality is only a few minutes, but when the last notes die away I’m left with red cheeks and seriously damp knickers, and Charlie just keeps staring at me making no effort to speak.
An awkward silence is broken by Seth throwing his drumsticks down and stretching to his full height until his back creaks.
“I like it,” he says simply. “It’s fucking good Charlie.” Then he vaults over his drum kit and in two strides he’s on me and throwing me over his shoulder, until I scream like a complete girl while trying to pull my dress down so I‘m not showing off my knickers. “Mabes, my honey, my angel. You’re looking fine girl,” he shouts.
“Put me down,” I giggle. “Or I’ll throw up down your back.”
“Not until you agree to run away with me. We’ll get married at that Scottish place. What’s it called?”
“Gretna Green?”
“No, fuck that. It’s always raining in Scotland. We’ll take the jet to Vegas baby. We’ll get married in the Elvis chapel and then I can look at this fine ass legally.”
Then I’m not kidding you, he actually spanks my backside with one of his huge hands.
However, my shriek is completely drowned out by Charlie. “Put her down for fuck’s sake Seth,” he says loudly and Seth stills. I’m not surprised about this because it’s rare for Charlie to shout like that at the boys in the band. He’s got a temper, they all do, and they often have arguments, but never about what’s just innocent horseplay with a woman.
I’m even more surprised that Seth, who can lose his temper, just lowers me to the ground, pats me gently on the head and mutters sorry to Charlie who simply shrugs and moves past us calling out as he does. “Did you come to say dinner’s ready Mabel?”
“Yes,” I say, now completely confused, and not missing the fact that Seth and Sid just exchanged a very knowing look and smile.
Mrs M and I arranged the table a while ago and I have to say it looks beautiful. Charlie’s dining room is large with vaulted ceilings and a massive table that seats twelve. We pushed the bifolding doors back so the summer breeze, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass, blows gently into the room and mingles with the heady scent of the lilies from the table‘s centerpiece. A starched white runner stretches down the middle of the table on which we placed some church candles in glass hurricane lanterns. Tea lights are dotted about and the candlelight flickers on the huge wine goblets and cutlery so the whole table seems to glow. I must say I’m proud of it but because my dining companions are men their comments are restricted to piss taking about Charlie not paying his electric bill, and then they light their cigarettes using the candles and settle down to some serious drinking and music talk.
I’m sitting between Seth and Bram while Noa takes pride of place at Charlie’s side. She’s dressed in a beautiful, sea green maxi dress with bare feet and loose hair and the candlelight flickers on her smooth shoulders. She’s in her element with so many men to flirt with but they’re not terribly receptive to her charms. Sid says it’s because it’s patently obvious that her only use for the band is for picture opportunities. In his opinion if she and Charlie were ever serious she’d have him out of the band and travelling the world with her as a power couple. I know Bram calls her Yoko Ono when Charlie’s not there, and to be fair, quite often when he is there, but Charlie never seems bothered.
As for him he’s very distracted tonight, staring off into space for long periods of time and drinking heavily. Occasionally, his glance falls on me and it’s so heavy with some meaning I can’t decipher, that it makes me shiver.
However, the other men more than make up for it and my sides are soon aching as I laugh at some tale of theirs from an industry do that they went to last week.
Mrs M and I have shared the serving tasks and now she’s just doing a final round with the pannacotta while I’ll do coffee later and clear up. Seth is starting to look more than a little alarmed by this turn of events because Mrs M has always had a weakness for him which she claims is totally down to his biceps which I’m sure are the size of my head. She’s currently presenting him with his dessert and pushing a large amount of wrinkled cleavage in his face but it’s when she starts talking about big men having more stamina that he breaks and makes the hasty excuse of needing the toilet. I look up and inadvertently catch Charlie’s eye and instantly we break into peals of laughter. For a precious second it’s just like old times and then Noa asks something in a querulous voice and his attention shifts to her.
I sigh a bit too loudly and when Bram turns to me quizzically I have to conceal it with a cough. “How’s Alys?” I ask him and he makes a grimace. “That bad?” I say laughing. Bram’s mum asked him to let a family friend come to live with him while she attends university in London which has had very mixed results. Well I say asked, I think she actually just guilt tripped him, because responsibility is most definitely not Bram’s middle name.
“She’s a pain in my arse and a fucking cock blocker is what she is,” he growls, and I smirk.
“What’s she done now?” I ask ready to be entertained. Bram’s mum apparently made Alys sound like a cross between a good Cathol
ic schoolgirl and Mother Teresa, and Bram has often complained since then that she should really work for the Daily Express because she never gets the facts right. This is true, because as far as I can see Alys is very far from a good schoolgirl, being quite a handful and not interested in making his life easier at all.
“I had a woman home that I’ve been working to get into bed for days,” he moans and I give him a mock sympathetic face.
“Days eh? Was she playing hard to get? Most normal men have to wait weeks at least.”
“Mabel,” he says with his slow, sexy grin that curls up on one side. “I’m not normal men. Surely you’ve realized that by now.”
“Okay,” I laugh. “Go on.”
“Well we were just getting to a very interesting part when in she bursts.”
“Alys?”
“Yes, bloody Alys with a little nightie on and her hair in rollers. Then the mad cow had the bollocks to ask whether I’d had time to have my prescription refilled at the sexual health clinic as she’d reminded me.”
I laugh out loud. “What did you do?”
“I tucked my dick back in my pants and then escorted a hysterical woman to the taxi while reassuring her that none of her private parts were in any danger of falling off.”
“What did you do to Alys?”
“Nothing yet,” he says darkly. “I’ll get to that in my own time.”
I hum around my spoon. I’m sure there’s something going on there because Alys is absolutely beautiful, all long blonde hair, legs and mischief but I know that Bram wouldn’t let himself go there out of loyalty to his family.
“Little nightie eh?” I say, testing the water.
“Yes,” he says in a strained tone and shifts in his seat. Yep something there alright.
Talk then turns to planning the next tour when they finish the new album, and they seem to be divided over whether to make it a worldwide one or stick to Europe. They don’t get too heated about it, mainly I think because they’ve all got more money than they can ever spend. Charlie and Sid definitely seem to be pushing for a smaller tour which I think is more to do with Sid’s recovery, and the other two quickly agree. Seth surprisingly offers a new perspective on this. “It just gets a bit old sometimes,” he says. “All those bloody women throwing themselves at you and stripping naked and trying to get in your hotel room.”
