Dream On (22 page)

He looked at her, for once not smiling. "Yes, so
you keep telling me," he said, and stalked off ahead of them.

"Oh dear," said Ariel.

"I think he really likes her, actually," said
Dave. "For all his talk."

"Well, perhaps he ought to change his
modus
operandi,
then," said Ariel.

Dave looked at her. "I love you," he said.

I want to make him happy, she thought.

"I love you, as well," she said.

Janice Brown remembered, at ten o'clock that night,
that Dave would probably have texted her to tell her whether or not he'd made
the final cut. But when she looked at her phone, the only text was from Max Stark,
saying how much he'd enjoyed the previous evening.

Walking up the stairs to bed, she reflected that
she'd received the text she wanted, after all.

"I must say, I'm surprised about you and Boz," said
Ariel, at six thirty that morning, as she washed some of Melodie's cleansing
mousse from her face.

"Are you?" said Melodie. She drew back the shower
curtain and wrapped herself in a huge white towel. "Why?"

"Oh, well, I just didn't think he'd be your type, that's
all."

Melodie reached for a wide toothed comb by the
basin, and started to run it through her wet hair. "He's funny," she said. "Makes me laugh, and I find that accent
so
sexy." She stopped for a
moment, and winked at Ariel. "And he's got quite a few contacts in the
industry, too!"

Probably a few less than he's told you, Ariel thought, but she decided to say nothing.

"I think we ought to lose the Viking gear," said Ritchie,
during the pre-performance discussion in the room he and Shane had shared the
night before. The room hopping had become so complicated that Dave couldn't
work out in which one he was likely to find his own clothes, Viking or
otherwise.

"You
what?
" he said.

Ritchie shrugged. "We're serious musicians, aren't we? Well, they've seen the Viking bit. Let's go out there and just do the
music, today."

"It's not a bad idea," said Boz. "Ring the changes, and
all that. Don't get boring."

"But it's who we are!" said Dave. "It's the whole point of
Thor!"

"Isn't Thor about the music? We don't want to be seen
as a novelty band." said Ritchie.

"Agreed," said Boz. "I'm starting to feel a bit of a twat
in that helmet, to be honest."

"Yeah, you look one, as well," said Shane, without
smiling. "But, yeah - I wouldn't mind being able to keep my jeans on, I have to
say."

Dave sighed, and lay back on the bed. "Okay. So I'm
outvoted. But hear me out on this one, then. We agreed we'd do
'Valhalla' today, didn't we?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think we should. I reckon we ought to do
'Saved'." He sat up. "Look, we did the stomping guitar riffs and up tempo
thing with 'Stampede' yesterday, didn't we? I reckon if we're going to
ring the changes, we don't want to do another one. That Ed Campion, the
programme producer, he didn't see us 'til yesterday. He doesn't know what
else we can do. A power ballad like 'Saved' is going to show we're more
versatile."

"I see what you mean," said Shane.

"Incorrect," said Boz. "They put us through yesterday
because they liked what we did. I say we should do more of the same."

"Let's vote on it," said Ritchie.

The vote went three to one to the power ballad.

"'Saved' it is, then!" said Dave, rubbing his hands
together.

"And we can wear jeans and leather jackets." said
Ritchie.  "Fucking excellent. It'll be the first time I haven't felt like
a right dildo in about four months."

"What made you change direction?" asked Glenn
Hunter, as soon as 'Saved' had come to its emotional end.

"Well, we didn't, really," said Dave. "That's always been
one of our most popular songs. It's on the CD."

Glenn nodded. "Mm. Yes. It was good, don't get
me wrong, and you guys can certainly play, but I - well, you're not the band I
put through yesterday. The Viking vibe - I like that, it's different. It's
got mileage. The song you did, what was it - " he looked down at his notes.

"'Stampede'."

"Yes. I thought that was excellent. Good old
fashioned hard driving rock 'n' roll. Dave's voice is made for rock -
you're better than you realise, mate. But then you come in today and
you've metamorphosed into Foreigner. I just don't get it, that's all."

"I liked this one better," said Shelley Mayes.

Dave smiled at her. "We wanted to show you our
versatility, that we're not just one trick ponies."

Glenn grinned to himself, looked down at his notes
and shook his head. "You've been watching too much Simon Cowell - "

"I've never watched any Simon Cowell, I - "

Glenn looked up at him. "You're a rock band. You're good at what you do. I get that all rock bands sometimes do the ballad
stuff, though, personally, I'd rather hear Aerosmith sing 'Love In An Elevator'
than 'I Don't Want To Miss A Thing'. But look - don't worry about what you
think
we
want. You have to be true to yourselves. If you want to dress
up as Vikings, fucking do it! Just don't try to change in an effort to find
the right 'formula'. It doesn't work.

"Told you," said Dave, on the way out. "Should have kept
the gear on, shouldn't we?"

"Hang on a minute. Whose idea was it to do the poxy
power ballad?" said Ritchie.

"Oh. Yeah."

Ariel had chosen to do an acoustic version of
Madonna's 'Crazy For You' that she'd been working on; it was very different
from the original and she was pleased with it.

Unfortunately, Melodie had decided against the expected
more raunchy number, and was doing the same song.

This was purely coincidental, and both regretted
very much that they'd made the same choice, but neither was willing to change.

"They're mates, aren't they?" said Glenn Hunter,
after Melodie had finished her performance. "Melodie and Ariel Swan. D'you think they're in competition with each other?"

Shelley Mayes gave a snort. "Two pretty, ambitious women
who can both sing? Of course they're in competition with each other!"

"Whoops," said Glenn Hunter.

At the beginning of the day, Ed Campion himself had
come out and thanked them all for taking part, then told them, the last forty,
that the final decision about the fifteen acts who would go through to the live
shows would be made the following week. He knew what it was like when you were
waiting for a decision like this, he said, so he wouldn't keep them hanging on;
if they were successful, they would receive a phone call from Rachel Mackie,
the programme researcher, between six and seven o'clock on the evening of Friday,
January the twenty-fourth. Thus, after their performance today, they were free
to leave, and he wished them all the best of luck.

Thor, Ariel and Melodie were all relatively subdued
on the way home; they were exhausted after the events of the past few days.

"It's certainly been an emotional rollercoaster,
hasn't it?" said Melodie, as she looked out of the window and watched the sky
darken.

Ritchie laughed. "Where did you get that from? American
Idol? You'll be talking about having been on a 'journey' next!" He looked
across the gangway. "Won't she, Ariel?"

Ariel wasn't listening. She was gazing out of the
window.

"What are you thinking about, darling?" Dave
asked. "You're so quiet!"

"Oh, nothing much," she said. "I'm just tired."

Dave felt sick.  He remembered Janice asking him
the same question, a few months ago, before she'd found out what he was up to. He'd replied in exactly the same way, but he'd been lying to her; he'd been
thinking about Ariel.

Ariel was actually thinking about something she and
Will Corrigan had been talking about, rather than Will Corrigan himself. She
wasn't sure what to do.

Of course, her decision rested completely on
whether or not she received a phone call, next Friday.

Shane's phone bleeped for the fourth time since the
beginning of the journey.

"Kerry or Bon Jovi girl?" asked Dave, as Shane
looked at it.

"Three - one," he said.

"Well, I hope you're going to reply to both of
them," said Ariel. "Oh - sorry, sorry. Sorry, Shane. None of my
business. I'll stop getting on your case, okay?"

Shane smiled at her, though not in his usual
boyishly charming fashion. "That's okay. You're right. I should." And he
walked off down the gangway and out to the luggage area; they could see him
talking on his phone, and laughing.

"What's going on with all the secret smiles, all of
a sudden?" said Ariel.

"He's up to something," said Ritchie.

Dave thought so, too, and it made him feel uneasy.

Reliable though his intuition always was, this time
it was not giving him the full picture; alas, he remained completely unaware
about the ways in which the lives of all of them were about to change.

The following Saturday morning in the Sunrise Café.

"It's going to stay quiet today, I reckon," said
Max, at about eleven forty-five. "Bad weather means one of two things; everyone
comes in while they're shopping, to get out of the cold, or they all just stay
at home in the first place. I think today's the latter; I can always
tell."

"Do you want us to get on with some cleaning, or
something?" Janice said. "I could get all that condensation off the inside of
the windows."

"Oh no!" said Lisa. "Can't we just sit and read the paper? Have an easy day?"

"I've got a better idea than that!" said Max, and
rubbed his hands together.

"What?" Lisa leaned forward, expectantly.

He took his keys out of his pocket and dangled them
at her. "You're in charge!"

"What?" she said, again.

Max smiled at her. "Kim will be in at twelve. I'm
sure you'll be able to cope between you; oh, and you can cash up and lock up,
too; you know how to do all that, don't you?"

"Yes, but - "

"The money goes in the safe in the office, you can ring me
in case of an emergency; I'll only be five or ten minutes away. If it's
really quiet you can close at four -and you know where the panic button is if
anyone tries to turn the place over, too, right?"

Lisa took the keys from him and frowned. "Do you think
anyone will? Try to turn the place over, I mean?"

"Unlikely," Max said. "Statistics show that fewer crimes
are committed when the weather's really bad. All the villains will be in
the snooker club trying to rob the fruit machines."

"But where are you going?"

"Janice and I are having the day off," Max said,
and turned, looking very pleased with himself, to Janice. "I thought we'd pick
up Harley from your mother's, and take him to that Fun Zone place you told me he
likes. What do you think?"

Janice felt the smile spread all over her face. "I think
we'd both love that, very much!"

"Good!" he said. "Right, well, we'll hang on until
Kim gets here, and then we'll be on our way!" He walked off, rubbing his hands
together again, into the office.

"You lucky pig!" said Lisa. "I wish it was me who the boss
fancied!"

Janice was blushing so hard she had to press her hot cheek
against the cold of the window pane.

Later, when Harley was exhausted from climbing over
obstacle courses and crawling around in the ball pool with several other
children who'd become his instant best friends, Max took them both out for
pizza and ice cream. When he was paying the bill, Harley stared at Janice as
she zipped up his jacket.

"Is Max my new uncle?" he said, rather solemnly. "Keanu at
school, his daddy went away and then he got a new uncle, and he shouts at him
and shuts him in his room."

Janice shut her eyes. Poor little Keanu.

"No, Max is just Mummy's boss and friend, you know
that," she said, feeling herself going pink yet again. "Do you like him?"

"Yes!" said Harley. "I like him. I wouldn't mind
if he
was
my new uncle." Then he went solemn again. "But I want to see
Daddy."

"I know," she sighed. "Shall I see if he wants to come
round for his Sunday lunch tomorrow?"

"Yes!" said Harley. "And Max too!"

Janice laughed. "Maybe not," she said, though a picture
of such an event flitted through her mind; that would make Dave sit up and take
notice. Or perhaps it wouldn't.
Oh, who cared?
  

After Max had dropped them off, at around five o'clock, she
settled a very tired Harley onto the sofa, and went into the kitchen to phone
Dave.

"Hello!" He sounded genuinely pleased to hear from
her.

"Hi! I got your text - congratulations! What
was it like then, at the final audition?"

"It was brilliant. Bloody nerve wracking, though. I still can't believe we all got through."

"It's amazing, isn't it? Even Melodie!"

Dave laughed. "Even Melodie! The A&R man fancied
her. Well, she reckoned he did, anyway."

"So what now?"

"We wait. If we get through to the live shows - "

"Like on The X Factor?"

"No, not like on The X Factor! It's nothing like
that, it's a serious show! What happens is, if you get chosen for the last
fifteen, they ring you. Next Friday, between six and seven in the
evening."

Janice was silent for a moment. Next Friday was
her birthday. She wondered if Dave would remember.

"So you'll be spending that evening with the lads then, I
suppose, will you?"
And Ariel.

"Uh-huh. We'll all be sitting in The Romany, white
knuckles gripping large whiskies, I should think!"