Fallen for Rock (29 page)

Chapter Forty-Four

My fingers trembled so much that it took me several attempts to tap out Nate’s number on my phone. At last, the call went through. Seconds stretched to hours while I waited for Nate to answer, but nothing happened. As before, not even the answering machine cut in. Eventually, I hung up, defeated.

‘Try his mobile.’ Mike wouldn’t let up. ‘You’ve got to try and reach him.’

Once more, I obeyed. This time, I managed to dial the number on first attempt but once again, there was no answer.

‘He’s not there.’ I returned the phone to its base and wrung my hands in despair. ‘Why did he come here? What did he want? And why isn’t he answering me now?’

Mike shrugged. ‘I can’t answer those questions, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, Emily.’ He hesitated before wrapping me in an awkward embrace. ‘Has he maybe left something behind that he wanted to pick up?’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t think so. Besides, he’d have called me first, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t simply turn up at eleven p.m. on a Saturday night without warning. Maybe he wanted to make up. And now…’ I wailed in panic. ‘Now he thinks I’ve got someone else, and I won’t have a chance at all.’

Mike let me go and took a step back. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Hang on a second. Didn’t you see him with that blombe the other day?’

‘Yes. And?’

‘So how could he possibly be upset at the thought that you’ve got a new boyfriend when he has a new bimbo himself?’

‘Because he’s a man? Because none of this makes sense?’ I raked my hands through my hair once more. ‘What did he
want
?’

‘Try him again. Or send him a text.’

‘No. No. He’s either screening my calls and not answering, or the numbers don’t work. Either way, there’s no point. I’m not trying again.’

‘We’ll go and see him.’

‘What, now? Both of us, together? You’re joking, right?’

Mike shrugged. ‘Why not?’

‘Because it’s past midnight? Because…’ I flailed my arms about. ‘Because you can’t do that, go and drop in on somebody past midnight. And because…’ I latched onto more practical things. ‘The Tube’s stopped running, and I can’t possibly drive, I’ve drunk too much. No.’

Mike sighed. ‘I suppose you’re right. We’ll go tomorrow.’

No way
.

‘Maybe. D’you know what? I want to go to bed now.’ I stepped closer to Mike and gave him a little hug. ‘I’m sorry I destroyed our high. Bad timing, eh?’ I grimaced.

‘Not your fault. You weren’t to know. And hey, I’m still excited! I’m also a little sad for you, but such is life. Rough and smooth, bitter and sweet, all at once.’ He chuckled. ‘There’s a song there.’

‘You’re a kind man, Mike Loud.’ I was overcome all emotional.

‘You’re a super woman, Emily Trenden. Now go get some sleep. Things will look better in the morning.’

But they didn’t. Even a day later, on Sunday, I still felt as bleak about the Nate situation as I had done on Friday.
Again
. It seemed that this self-inflicted relationship disaster was going to haunt me forever.

At Mike’s insistence, we eventually did go round to Nate’s place. I drove us, and we parked in a little side street and walked up to Nate’s building together. Mike rang the doorbell. Nothing happened.

Mike stepped back on the pavement and scrutinised the building. ‘Curtains are drawn. Somebody’s sleeping late. Press that buzzer again.’

I did as instructed, but still nothing happened. ‘Let’s go,’ I suggested impatiently, feeling intensely uncomfortable with the whole situation.

‘I suppose,’ Mike grumbled, clearly dissatisfied with the outcome of our mission. ‘But here.’ He produced a notebook and pen. ‘Write him a note and put it in his letter box.’

I snorted. ‘You what? I can’t do that.’

‘Why not? He came by last night. It’s only natural that you should follow up. Go on, woman. Write.’ He pushed the pen at me, and I took it reluctantly. ‘What should I say?’

Mike rolled his eyes. ‘What do you want to say?’

‘I don’t know. So many things. I wouldn’t know where to start. Most of all, I’d want him to read it, not bin it.’ I stared at Mike. ‘You’re a man. You tell me what you’d like to hear from me if you were him.’

‘Okay.’ Mike accepted the challenge. He screwed up his eyes and thought for a second. ‘Here goes.’

Dear Nate
, I wrote as Mike dictated.
Hi.

Sorry I missed you last night. I’m so happy you came by. My nosey neighbour got the wrong idea. It’s not what you think. I miss you. I’m sorry for everything. Call me?

Yours, Emily xxx

‘That’s it?’ I was flabbergasted. ‘No explanations? No “I love you”?’

‘Nope. You wanted to know what would intrigue me in his shoes. There it is. Hints, and an apology. He’ll either get it, or he won’t. Now post it.’

‘Whatever.’ I shrugged. I had tried everything else, so why not follow Mike’s lead? If only Nate hadn’t turned up the previous night. If only he hadn’t talked to Mrs Bowden. My heart contracted with anxiety and embarrassment.

I felt exhausted. This was, what, the third or fourth time I had opened that wound all over again? How many more times would I have to go through the heartbreak before it would finally leave me in peace?

‘C’mon, let’s go for lunch,’ Mike suggested helpfully. ‘And put your phone on silent.’

‘Why?’

‘So you don’t listen out for it for the entire rest of the day.’

‘But what if he calls, and I don’t answer again? We’re going to go round in circles.’

‘Okay. Give me your phone. I’ll take care of it.’

‘What? No!’

‘Yes. Give it here. I can’t watch you bleed like this.’

He wrestled my handbag off me and extracted my phone before I had a chance to react.

‘Mike Loud, give that back.’ I punched him on the arm, but he simply held the phone over his head and out of my reach.

‘No can-do. But I promise I’ll give it to you if it rings. Immediately.’

He stuffed my phone into his jeans pocket and refused to engage in further argument. I yielded to the inevitable.

As it happened, the phone never did ring. Not during our lunch at what we had had come to consider ‘our’ local pub, not during the afternoon, not in the evening. There was nothing on my landline either.

‘It’s Sunday,’ Mike suddenly burst out while we were watching telly that night. ‘Why would he even bother to check his mail? He won’t get your note until tomorrow, sweetheart.’

‘Of course.’ I smacked my head. That made perfect sense. ‘But you’re not having my phone all day tomorrow. I need it. I’ve got things to do.’

‘Okay. That’s fine. You got through today, you’ll get through tomorrow too.’ Mike grinned.

Alas, the week passed with no message from Nate. All day Monday, my mind turned over possibilities of what he might have wanted and why he still wasn’t calling me. I totally forgot about Mike’s big meeting with Iron Dave until he came home bearing champagne and grinning widely. The wheels were in motion, the deal was in the bag—at least between Mike and Dave. Band members to follow as soon as possible. What an amazing feeling!

On Tuesday, I gave myself a stern telling off and pushed Nate to the back of my mind. On Wednesday, I got so frustrated with him still taking up mental energy that I consigned him to the bottom drawer of my brain and didn’t allow myself to dwell on him anymore. Instead, I launched myself with a vengeance on working some more on Fallen For Rock’s website, Facebook page and launch campaign.

Mike busied himself finding a rehearsal hall and booking a few hours of studio time for the end of the month for a try-out session with his new band. He had also been back and forth to his own house in preparation for moving back there. The media circus surrounding MonX’s break-up had died down, and we figured it was time that Mike returned to normal. It gave me a weird, lonely feeling to think that my impromptu flatmate should be moving out again soon, but it was probably for the best. Whilst we had both enjoyed the arrangement, it wasn’t really conducive for Mike to work in the way he needed to. So he was checking the lay of the land at his place and moving a few things back already, and somehow, the week passed in a frantic haze of activity. By Friday, we were poised and ready for our last coup—recruiting the guitarist for Fallen For Rock.

Chapter Forty-Five

‘There.’ With a satisfied grin, I shoved my home-made lasagne in the oven and set the timer. ‘Dinner is in one hour.’

Nobody was there to hear me, but I said it anyway. Mike would be back any minute now. We had given ourselves this Friday night off in anticipation of a long haul the following evening, so I had donned my pyjamas and leisurely put together a meal. I was about to pour myself a glass of wine when the phone rang.

‘Mike, hey! What’s up? I made your favourite lasagne,’ I gabbled before he even had a chance to speak. I sounded like a housewife—a wife, even—and I grinned. ‘Sorry. That came out wrong. I was simply throwing together some stuff because we were having a night in.’
Probably one of our last,
I added silently.

‘Hi babes,’ Mike finally got a word in edgeways. ‘Sounds lovely. I’ll be back in ten, I’m on my way. But listen, put the wine back in the fridge.’

I froze mid-pour. He knew me too well. ‘Why?’

‘We’ve got to go out. I had word that Blue Heart is playing tonight.’

‘Really? Where?’

Blue Heart was the band of the guitarist who Mike wanted to bring into Fallen For Rock. We were supposed to see them the following night, so this gig was a bit of a curveball.

‘At the Lion in Putney. It’s a last minute stand-in for a band that cancelled.’ Mike’s voice came in panted bursts; he was evidently walking at great speed. I put the cork back on the bottle and the wine back in the fridge while I listened to him.

‘I want to hear them “on the hop”,’ he explained. ‘It’ll be very interesting to see how they cope with an unscheduled gig. I’m really excited about this.’

‘I can tell,’ I deadpanned. But I knew what he meant. Seeing a band improvise was one of the biggest clues to their prowess. Moreover, word had finally got out, somehow, that Mike Loud was out talent spotting, and Mike had become wary about attending well-advertised shows of up-and-coming bands, even in disguise. So this was a
huge
opportunity as the band would be less likely to expect him.

‘Okay, sounds great. I’ll see you shortly.’

‘I’m walking up the road,’ Mike announced. ‘I’ll be two tics.’

I rang off and hurriedly got dressed again, donning my rockette extraordinaire uniform. When Mike walked in a few moments later, I was dressed, physically and mentally, as Emily Trenden, ace publicist, and he wrapped me in a bear hug excitedly.

‘This is it, babes, it’s all happening tonight. By tomorrow, Fallen For Rock could be complete.’ He lifted me up and swung me around, careful not to bounce me into the walls of my narrow hallway.

‘Whoop whoop,’ I replied, sharing in his thrill. ‘I can’t wait to hear them. What time do we need to leave?’

‘It’s only up the road, really, so probably in an hour? Hour and a half?’

‘Cool. I’ll turn up the heat, and we can have dinner first.’

Mike opened his mouth, but I nipped his objection in the bud. ‘Sustenance, my friend. You’ll make a better decision if you’ve had some delicious beef, fortifying carbs, and gooey cheese first of all to soothe body and mind.’

‘You’re a health nut,’ Mike admonished, but surrendered to my plan.

‘As your publicist, your wellbeing is my first concern,’ I countered. ‘But I will allow you a glass of vino while we wait.’

Just over an hour later, duly fortified by food and buoyed by a glass of wine or two, we made our way to the Lion. We decided to go by bus as it was only a short ride, and it would allow us both to consume alcoholic beverages. Plus we didn’t have to worry about parking, which was a nightmare in Putney. Mike slapped on his sunglasses, a baseball cap, and his Magnum moustache before we left. I giggled helplessly.

‘What will you do for a night out once Fallen For Rock is
the
number one band, and a pair of sunnies and some fake facial hair won’t disguise you anymore?’

Mike shrugged. ‘I’ll simply hire the pub when I want to hang to out on a Friday night.’

‘Ah. Well, that would work, I suppose.’ I giggled some more. ‘Except wouldn’t it be a bit empty with only you?’

‘It would be a
quiet
night out,’ Mike replied. ‘By that stage, I’ll cherish it.’

I smacked my forehead. ‘Of course. Yes, that makes sense.’

Mike nudged me affectionately. ‘Don’t tease me, woman. I don’t know what I’d do. Shall we cross that bridge when we come to it?’

‘Okay. As long as you promise to throw that moustache away after tonight.’

‘You don’t like it?’ Mike pulled a droopy face that made him look like a sad walrus.

‘Nope. Can’t stand ‘taches, not on you or anyone. Except for Tom Selleck, of course.’

‘Is that so?’ He wiggled his eyebrows at me in an uncanny imitation of the man himself, and I nearly peed my pants with laughter. But when he twiddled his moustache suggestively before bursting into the theme tune for the detective series, I punched him on the arm.

‘Stop it, you’re embarrassing me.’

‘No way, get outta here!’

Now he managed to
sound
like Tom, too, timbre, lilt, inflection and all. I grinned, despite myself. Mike continued mercilessly in his new voice.

‘And why would you be embarrassed being seen with a star private detective?’

‘No reason, I suppose. As long as you stay in character. That could be fun.’

Mike doffed his baseball cap. ‘Your wish is my command, ma’am.’

‘You great big oaf.’ I smiled. At the same time, I felt sad. I would miss Mike’s particular brand of humour once he had moved out again and the new band was in full swing. Of course, I would still get to see him loads—but not twenty-four–seven. And while I didn’t have a crush on him as such, I really had grown exceptionally fond of him. I dreaded the thought of being alone again.

Mike seemed to sense my small mood change. He put an arm around my shoulder and whispered in my ear. ‘It’ll be all right, you’ll see.’

I didn’t get a chance to ask him what he meant by ‘it’—the evening? The band? Us, after he moved out?—because the bus had crossed Putney Bridge, and we had to get off in rather a hurry.

Mike took my hand, and we walked in companionable silence to the pub. I had come to recognise this mood of his. He was getting in the zone, and he usually fell silent when he prepared to listen, really listen, to a band.

For a little while, the pavement followed the path of the Thames, and I enjoyed the sight of the lights glittering on the water. As we walked further up Lower Richmond Road, the street turned semi-residential, with grand old blocks of flats, shops, restaurants, and smaller semi-detached houses all jumbled together. I loved this part of London. The streets felt full of potential, like you could turn a corner and anything could happen.

As it happened, the potential that Mike and I faced right at that moment was not getting into the pub. Mike slowed and ground to a halt when we saw the long queue outside the Lion. I checked my watch.

‘It’s nearly nine o’clock. The band will go on soon.’

Mike grimaced. ‘Not helpful. I didn’t expect this. What are we going to do?’

‘At least they’re pulling a crowd. That’s got to be good news, right?’

‘Sure. But we’re the wrong end of the crowd. We’ll never get in.’

I chuckled. ‘Odd, isn’t it, being the other side of that fence again? When I first came to see you with those VIP tickets at the Apollo, I nearly passed out when I saw the queue. I thought I’d had it.’

Mike stared at me. ‘But they were VIP tickets. You should have walked right in.’

‘I know that.
Now
. I didn’t know that at first. I panicked a little. But I decided to try my luck and find the VIP entrance. You’ve got to remember, I’d never done this before. It was all new to me.’

‘But you got in,’ Mike remembered.

‘Course I did. And we shall get in here. Follow me.’

I took the lead and walked determinedly along the pavement, past the crowd right to the front of the queue. I had no clear plan what I was going to do but was acting on blind faith. I needed us to get in, therefore we would get in. ‘Blind faith’ was proving a key ingredient in this industry.

Ah.
I exhaled.
Sorted
.

I slowed my step, and Mike dawdled a little behind me, fiddling with his glasses. I squeezed his hand and waited for him to draw level with me. At last, I fixed the bouncer with a stare until he made eye contact.

‘Yo. Harry. How’re you doing?’

‘Harry?’ Mike mouthed beside me. ‘You know this chap?’

I didn’t pay him any notice. The bouncer looked at me intently and eventually nodded his head. ‘Emily. Fancy seeing you here.’

I took a step closer to the barriers. ‘Well, you know me. Always on the lookout for the next big thing.’

‘I know. You coming in tonight?’

‘If there’s room for a little one?’

‘For you, always. Who’s your friend?’ Harry looked past me at Mike.

‘That’s Tom.’ I spoke loudly so ‘Tom’ would hear me clearly. ‘He’s my partner.
Business
partner. I’m gonna pay for our covers, of course.’

‘Ah.’ Harry hesitated for a second, but obligingly nudged the fence open far enough that we could bypass the queue and walk straight in.

‘What’s with the sunglasses?’ he asked me quietly as Mike strolled past me and into the pub.

‘It’s a disguise,’ I whispered back. ‘That’s really Mike Loud, but don’t tell on him.’

‘You’re kidding me,’ Harry guffawed.

‘Would I lie to you, Harry?’ I teased back.

He winked. ‘I dunno, Emily, I dunno. Anyway, in you go now. Enjoy your evening.’

‘Thank you, Harry. I won’t forget this.’

I proffered the money for our tickets and shook his hands. Harry deftly palmed the additional note I handed him. He grinned and nodded and returned his attention to queue management.

Mike stared at me with wide eyes. ‘What was that?’

‘What was what?’ I repeated innocently.

‘That. The bouncer thing. How did you know him?’