by Lucy Knott
‘Come on you, out, out,’ she cried, gesturing him towards the door, where she stood ready to lock up.
The sky over Manchester was a sheet of black with the occasional plume of grey swirls drifting by. The streetlamps cast an orange glow across Dan’s prominent cheekbones, making the dimples in his cheeks pop when he pouted. Amanda didn’t think there could be a face she was happy to see more at the end of a working day. She adored her job, if she could even call it that anymore, but that face was enough to make her hang up her oven mitts and curl up under the duvet with him for eternity; maybe, possibly, though she would be hard pressed to go without a morning cornetto. She’d have to get up and bake, then jump back under the duvet with him.
‘I love you, you know,’ Amanda said to Dan as they walked hand in hand.
‘I told you to let me know if you needed anything?’ Dan said, his raspy voice troubled, his eyes a swirl of something Amanda feared was deeper than just a hint of jealousy.
‘And I will. But you do realize you are breaking all kinds of rules right now by coming to the café?’ Amanda said with a laugh and a nudge of her elbow to Dan’s side. What Sabrina didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, right? Getting to walk home with Dan, Amanda felt carefree and a little rebellious. She wanted Dan to relax, to enjoy every minute they had together and be sure of the love she had for him. He had no reason to be jealous.
‘That I do.’ Dan gave a gruff chuckle that wasn’t quite believable to Amanda’s ears.
‘Dan, what’s going on?’ she asked, stopping to give him her full attention, her feet stinging for want of sitting down. Tiredness was catching up on her, but she couldn’t give in until she knew Dan was okay; that they were okay. She didn’t care for Dan’s subdued silence, not when they promised to always tell each other everything.
‘What did you need Liam for this evening?’ Dan asked, his gorgeous brown eyes boring into hers. Amanda squeezed his hand.
‘He sometimes walks me and the girls home when it gets dark, that’s all. You don’t have anything to worry about.’ Amanda felt a slight urgency creep into her voice with her last words. She and Dan had been the best of friends for so long, they never argued or second-guessed each other. This felt odd.
‘Just call me next time,’ he replied, his voice a little off kilter to its usual confident bravado. Amanda turned away, suddenly feeling aware of her surroundings and not wanting to have this conversation out in the open.
‘Dan, I can’t call you. You have an album to record and a manager to appease. What have you got against Liam?’ Amanda said, not liking the agitation that appeared in her voice yet feeling saddened by Dan’s lack of trust in her. It was getting late and thoughts of her alarm clock going off in a few short hours were clouding her ability to sympathize with Dan right at this moment. Dan knew all about her past relationship with Jason, how he had cheated on her and lied to her on countless occasions. She would never do that to a person and Amanda felt Dan should know her better than that.
‘Not a thing, baby girl,’ was all Dan could offer, with a smile and a shrug Amanda knew was forced.
‘So, how’s everything at the studio? Is something else bothering you?’ Amanda questioned, in an attempt to maybe get this evening back on track to how it had been only twenty minutes ago when she had walked out of the kitchen to see Dan’s handsome face waiting for her. Talking about his music always cheered him up. They reached her front door and she rummaged for her keys awaiting his response.
‘It’s good, my love,’ Dan replied, stroking his tense jaw as she twisted the key in the lock.
‘I can’t wait to hear the new stuff,’ Amanda noted, shrugging herself out of her cable knit cardigan the minute she stepped into the house and tucking her bag away under the coat rack. She wanted nothing more than to leap into bed and cuddle up next to Dan but the air between them felt strained; he wasn’t willingly revealing any more information. It wasn’t like Dan to keep things from her; they had both tried that before, hiding their feelings from each other and it only led to a rift in their friendship. If there was something more to this than just a blip of jealousy over Liam being there for her when Dan couldn’t, then he needed to speak up. Now there was a lot more on the line. If their relationship didn’t work out what would that mean for their friendship?
‘Hon, as strikingly handsome as you look when you pout, we’re not going to bed arguing with each other,’ Amanda said, catching Dan placing his loafers neatly by the door and closing the gap between them to fold her arms around his waist as he stood at the foot of the stairs.
‘Who says we are arguing?’ he asked, his features relaxing as his confident smirk made its debut for the evening, giving Amanda’s heart a reassuring jolt. Even if Amanda wanted to address the flicker of sadness she saw in Dan’s eyes, she didn’t think it possible tonight as her eyelids drooped and the feel of Dan’s familiar muscles at her fingertips lent themselves to her dozy state. ‘Bedtime,’ Dan said and Amanda had no energy to argue that she had wanted to stay up and talk to him and listen to him strum away at his guitar well into the night, having not had the pleasure of doing just that in what felt like forever.
Chapter 16
Tiramisu
Ingredients:
2 cups of espresso
4 egg yolks
3 tbsp Marsala wine (a little/lot extra for drizzling)
Two 7oz packets of lady fingers
3/4 cup of sugar
16oz mascarpone
Cocoa powder (The good Italian one)
What to do:
Make coffee and set aside.
Beat egg yolks and sugar until combined then add mascarpone and mix until creamy.
Add 3 tbsp of Marsala and mix until combined. (I’m pretty sure Nanna adds way more Marsala than this.)
Add a thin layer of mascarpone cream to the bottom of the dish.
Dip lady fingers into prepared coffee and begin to layer into dish.
Follow with a layer of mascarpone mix and drizzle (drown) with Marsala.
Repeat steps until there is a nice layer of mascarpone cream on top.
Dust with cocoa powder and refrigerate.
The room was small and dark. The furniture, a simple coffee table and two settees, were worn and distressed, the brown leather bearing creases and cracks. With the sound boards, speakers and numerous computer screens there wasn’t much room left for the luxury that the boys had been used to under Lydia’s agency. San Francisco Beat fit snuggly into the sound booth, Levi having just enough room so his elbows didn’t hit the walls each time he swung back to crash the symbols on his squashed drum kit. Sabrina liked it and, by the sound emitting from the speakers, so did the boys. Their sound was rich and enthusiastic. Sabrina felt the energy in every strum of the bass and crash of the drums. Watching Dan through the window, eyes closed, gripping the mic like his life depended on it, his voice sounded naked and bare, as though in such close confines it was forced to reveal itself. That or he was harbouring some pain that he was taking out on the music; he had been awfully quiet lately and not Dan quiet, but troubled quiet. Guilt stirred in the pit of Sabrina’s stomach.
‘I’ve heard about these guys, of course. I know they’re huge in America and the whole world is starting to take note, but I admit I was never a fan of Jones Records and had them pegged to do perfumes and reality shows in the next year. I’m pleasantly surprised that the songwriting and sound is all them. I wondered about ghostwriters and their instrumental abilities, but you know your stuff lady, you’ve kept them real. I commend you,’ the producer, Jack, said as he twisted a few knobs and played with a few dials on the soundboard, before turning to look at Sabrina. ‘They’re a great bunch of guys, I can see that already and they have an insane amount of talent. Thank you for bringing me on board,’ he added, the creases around his grey eyes showing the sincerity in the smile at his lips.
‘Thanks Jack, but I can’t take all the credit. I’m thrilled Keira knew about your place. I love it and think it fits t
hem perfectly,’ Sabrina said, smiling back and blushing slightly at Jack’s compliment. She sat in the black swivel chair next to him with her clipboard in hand, always ready to make notes, as they listened to the songs. She watched Jack fiddle with the computers, occasionally signaling something to the boys with his hands, to which the boys would nod to and then do their thing. It felt good to be back in this environment with the boys. They had been at it just shy of two weeks already and Sabrina felt confident that this album would be better than their first, and she loved their first one.
‘How’s it going, Sabrina?’ came Keira’s voice as she made her way back into the cozy quarters after having stepped out to take a phone call. Keira had arrived in the UK yesterday and Sabrina was thoroughly enjoying having her around and working together. Keira held her own clipboard which made Sabrina smile at their similar efficiency. Getting to work so closely had affirmed Sabrina’s decision that City Heights Records had been right for them. Over the past twelve hours she and Keira had hit it off. With Keira’s organization skills, her enthusiastic approach and with the respect she showed for the band’s music and ideas, the boys had taken to her nicely too. Keira had been the one to recommend Jack’s recording studio, informing Sabrina that it was one of Manchester’s hidden gems and a treat for all true artists. The likes of The Smiths and The 1975 had recorded here, which had scored further points for Keira with San Francisco Beat, especially Dan, since he and Amanda idolized Jack Kerouac who The 1975 had been inspired by. Keira was taking the boys seriously which pleased Sabrina greatly. She had high hopes for the working relationship between all parties.
Jack pressed a button and motioned for a break through the glass, and the boys filed out all sticky and sweaty. Levi dived next to Sabrina on the couch and rested his head on her lap, the movement causing Sabrina to jerk up, very nearly spilling her coffee over her baby-blue flower print dress. She instantly cringed at her sudden and cruel reaction. What had gotten into her? Jack and Keira, that was what. She hadn’t wanted Jack to see her and Levi getting cosy and she didn’t want word to get back to the label about her and Levi’s relationship. It was simply better to play it down. Though Keira had voiced her opinion that Sabrina and Levi made a cute couple, Sabrina didn’t want to put Keira in a tricky position around other professionals. Sabrina couldn’t make them both look bad. She was doing the right thing.
Levi’s face however, made her feel far from right. This episode was far worse than the plane. His jaw was tense, and he was looking at the ground. It was the looking at the ground that made Sabrina feel dreadful. She’d hurt him and it didn’t feel good. Gone was his dazzling smile and mischievous sparkle.
To add insult to injury, Keira chose this moment to go over emails and an important message from the publicist. Sabrina couldn’t even pretend she had seen a spider or needed a wee when she had sprung from her seat, Levi would put two and two together with what Keira divulged next.
‘If I remember correctly from my previous meeting with Sabrina we had, along with your publicist, discussed keeping your distance from Sabrina’s sister’s café after the spectacle that it became in the media recently. Dan, can I ask that you check in with us and inform us of your whereabouts, especially late at night? There are eyes everywhere. Last night’s innocent stroll is this morning’s gossip fodder. While I understand you all have lives outside of these four walls, the label and our publicist are not so forgiving.’ Keira’s voice was stern, but she broke her professional tone of conduct with her last words, making them softer – to make them sound less like a blow, no doubt. Sabrina had to give her credit, she really understood the band and was doing her best to work out a balance. Whereas the boys might appreciate this professionalism from Keira, Sabrina felt she would not be so lucky to receive the same treatment, if the penetrative glares she could feel from Dan, James and Dylan were anything to go by. Levi was still staring at the floor, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck.
‘What is it exactly that our dear publicist will not be so forgiving of?’ Levi asked, addressing Keira with half a smirk and looking past Sabrina. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for what was going to come next. She should have told Levi that first day in City Heights Records’ office when Keira had first warned her.
Keira glanced at her as if to say, ‘You haven’t told them?’ which only made Sabrina feel worse. She shuffled from foot to foot.
‘If we can just keep PDA to a minimum. I’m sure you know the drill – fans like to think it possible that they could date you. It helps with your image,’ Keira explained, with a slight rosy flush spreading over her cheeks.
Levi’s dark brown eyes illuminated with understanding as the dots of Sabrina’s odd behavior over the last couple of weeks connected. ‘Sure thing, boss,’ Levi said, with a nod and small shake of his head before he wiped his perspiring brow and took a stand. ‘Good meeting boys, shall we get back to it?’ he added, walking past Sabrina coolly and straight into the sound booth, claiming his seat behind his drum kit. Even when he was mad at her she still loved him fiercely.
‘You said you had some ideas to discuss with me?’ Keira piped up, dragging Sabrina’s attention away from her sulking boyfriend; she almost felt sorry for the drum kit for the beating it was now currently enduring with from Levi’s frustrated strikes. Returning to her seat on the couch, Sabrina pulled out her notebook and the pieces of paper she had been working on for upcoming show promotions. Thinking about the boys getting out on stage again and performing for their die-hard fans, distracted her from the possibility that Levi wouldn’t ever talk to her again. That, and she was certain that she would win him over with her plans. Getting stuck into business with Keira made her pulse steady and she regained her confidence in her abilities and what she thought best for San Francisco Beat.
‘I’m thinking of a small gig here in Manchester – an intimate setting, one where the fans can get close; make it feel more personal and special before the album is released and the arenas come into play,’ Sabrina told Keira enthusiastically. ‘I fired off some emails earlier to our booking agent letting him know the plan and I’ll look at speaking with PR to see if they can facilitate some interviews in the build-up and maybe discuss a few personal issues and get on the same page,’ Sabrina finished, glancing away from her work and to the drum kit once more.
She felt grateful for the deal that City Heights Records had offered. The momentum from the boys’ first album was still going strong, but there was an energy in the band going into album two that gave Sabrina a sense that this album was going to be something special; she was not about to spoil it with silly arguments over keeping their personal lives just that – personal.
Keira immediately tapped her fingers across the iPad on her lap. ‘I think that sounds fab. If you can get back to me with what you arrange ASAP, I can help ensure everyone is working together and keep on top of them,’ Keira said, her hands now moving at an incredibly speedy rate as she flicked her screen from one email to the next. ‘I’m back to LA tomorrow, so I’d like to go over their schedule and your plan – estimate for the delivery date for this album and so forth.’ Keira waved her hand in the air, not taking her eyes off her screen. She was a boss babe to be reckoned with. Not one to be outdone in that department, Sabrina pulled up her spreadsheets, contact list and rough proposal of the direction she had in mind for the band and set about getting in touch with all those she would need on board to make the plan a reality.
Four hours later and Sabrina finally looked up from her screen. Keira had left two hours ago, and the boys had been in and out of the booth for short breaks, mostly consisting of gathering around Jack to listen back to a song to decide on final cuts or retakes. Conversation was kept to a minimum while they all focused on work. She rubbed at her computer-strained eyes and held her stomach as it rumbled for her attention. While the boys were playing ‘Midnight Angel’ for the sixth time, she snuck out of the studio, informing Jack she would be back shortly.
It didn’t take S
abrina long to cross town; the studio was, with a quick march, fifteen minutes away from Torta Per Tutti if she cut through the lush green of Piccadilly Gardens towards the more vibrant and off-the-beaten-path edge of the Northern Quarter. Amanda would be getting ready to close for the day. She hoped there would be a few leftovers that she could salvage for her and the boys. The smell of Kimbo coffee filled her nostrils first, followed by a sweet mixture of warm vanilla and citrus. When Sabrina turned the corner onto Amanda’s road she felt as though she was seeing her big sister’s café for the first time. The white and gold sign reading Torta per Tutti with blue and yellow accents around the windows, the likes of what you’d see on the finest Positano ceramics, teamed with the freshly potted sweet violets underlining the bay window – it was like a piece of Italy had been placed on the corner of Thomas street and Oldham street.
A few women fluttered out, excitedly talking about the fresh cornetti they had just devoured, and Sabrina’s heart soared. She could just do with one of those cornetti right about now for an evening pick-me-up. Moving swiftly past the women and catching the door, Sabrina was engulfed with the full aromatic mouthwatering aroma that Torta per Tutti elicited. Goose bumps prickled on her arms.
‘What can I do for you this evening, fine stranger?’ Amanda’s voice interrupted Sabrina’s daydreams of sitting on the fountain outside of Pasticceria Pansa with her sisters as they sipped espressos and ate their weight in cartucci. She flicked her eyes open, having automatically closed them to appreciate her full sense of smell. Amanda was waving a cloth in her direction, one hand on her hip with a slight smirk on her face to go with her sarcastic warmth.
‘Hey, how’s it going? I feel like I’m in Amalfi,’ Sabrina said enthusiastically, the beauty of the café injecting her with a dose of giddiness. ‘I love it so much.’
