Memoirs of a Wild Child (9 page)

“Year, to a year and a half. The tour is twelve months, not allowing for any illness or injury, and then we’d like you to work with us on putting the book together; we would value your creative input. It’s a lucrative contract.” He placed a brown A4 envelope onto the table. “I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the terms. Look it over, get your lawyers to do the same, and give me a call. My card is inside.” He tapped the envelope and then stood. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss… Pippa.” He corrected himself and held out a hand for me to shake, before nodding, smiling, and leaving. I watched him walk out of the door, in total admiration for his no-nonsense, no small talk attitude. I am much the same in business; I respect it.

“And then there was two,” I said, a little stunned.

“Please say yes, Pippa, you’re the best man for the job.”

I smiled and looked across to a grinning Dax; without Phil there, he was opening up, and he was playful.

“I’ll look it over,” I reassured, placing the envelope on the seat next to me. “Now, get me a menu, I’m starved.”

Dax and I chatted over dinner, about the band and my work, about Japan and the time he had spent in London. He was a fairly unanimated guy, slow and thoughtful is how I would describe him, but at certain points in the conversation, he lit up, there was a clear spark in his eyes, and it was intriguing to me.

He paid for dinner and walked me out to get a cab afterwards, shaking my hand and telling me that he hoped I would say yes as he closed the taxi door and watched me drive away. I think maybe; I will, I thought, as I tapped my fingers on the brown envelope in my hands.

I got the hotel to fax a copy of the contract over to my solicitor in London so that she could look it over. Honestly, the offer looked great to me. A world tour, all travel and accommodation expenses paid, as well as a very hefty fee. I was ready to say yes, the second Sherry gave me her seal of approval. Dax had invited me to listen to the band recording in the studio the next day so that I could get to know them a little. He sent a car to pick me up and was more enthusiastic than he had been last night, when he greeted me at the door.

The band were all great, I even met the drummer’s wife and the boyfriend of the bass guitarist. Dax was a totally different person, lively, fun, playful and loud. His voice was like silk, and then he could switch it up and it was pure, gravelly sexiness. He was so hot, and the way his fingers moved on the neck of that guitar made me tingle.

When I got back to the hotel and checked my emails, I saw that Sherry had replied to me regarding the contract. She was more than happy for me to go ahead, so I signed on the dotted line and arranged for it to be couriered to Phil.

I went back to London a couple of days later and prepared to meet the guys in Berlin two weeks later for the start of their tour.

Four weeks into the tour, I was on top of the world. It was an absolute blast; the band were amazing on stage and the after parties were fucking awesome. Dax and I were becoming closer, but I was determined to keep it as professional as I could when we were sharing a bong most nights.

As we headed to the Philippines, Dax came to sit next to me on the plane.

“Hey,” he said quietly, grinning slightly.

“Hey,” I said back, suspiciously.

“Wanna join the mile-high club?” he said and waggled his eyebrows, I laughed out loud.

“Oh, honey, I am a fully paid up, card carrying member of that bad boy.”

“Really?” Dax asked slightly a little closer.

“Oh yeah.” I nudged his shoulder with mine, “But I don’t mind racking up some frequent flyer points.” I turned and looked him in the eyes and the playfulness left them. He had been fooling around, but now he was assessing me, would I actually go there?

Holding my gaze for a moment more, Dax stood and started to walk towards the front of the plane, turning to look at me again once he was a few feet away. I unclipped my seat belt and followed the rock star to the bathrooms in first class, and prepared for turbulence.

Dax had already entered the cubicle and closed the door by the time I got there. I opened the door and followed him inside. We eyed each other for a moment, and then he grabbed my face in his hands, his mouth crashing against mine.

Dax’s tongue parted my lips and rolled across my tongue. His kiss tied me in knots, and I reached for his belt buckle. As I unzipped his jeans, Dax spun me around, pressing me hard against the sink counter as he squeezed my tits and kissed and sucked at my neck. I watched him in the mirror the whole time; it was so hot. One hand travelled down my body and into the front of my yoga pants, fingering between my legs and making me push backwards, wanting more.

He withdrew his hand and yanked my trousers and then my underwear down to my mid-thighs. From the back, he dipped a finger inside me, and then pushed two in completely; I gasped at the intrusion and leant forward to give him easier access.

Dax fingered me for a few seconds, spreading my moisture and opening me up for him; then he held my hips and pushed his cock inside me, slowly at first, and then hard and fast. I held on to the mirror to steady myself as he pounded into me; my thighs were still closed, and it was intense.

I bent forward more as he started to hit my g-spot, and I felt my orgasm building, Dax’s grip on my hips became tighter, stronger, and I knew he was close.

I gripped the edge of the sink as I tried to keep from crying out; I looked into the mirror to see Dax lean back and look up to the ceiling and then I felt him come inside me. In an instant, my approaching orgasm was gone. I hadn’t made him use a condom; the drug using, slut shagging rock star had just fucked me bareback in an aeroplane toilet cubicle.

I was silent as we cleaned up and dressed ourselves again, Dax asked me if I was okay, and what was wrong but I just brushed him off.

First thing I needed to do in Manila was get a morning after pill, and an STD check. I was so angry with myself as I lay down under my blanket, plugged my headphones in and cried myself to sleep.

All was good in Manila. I saw a doctor who ran some tests and gave me the morning after pill as well as a precautionary course of antibiotics. A couple of days later my tests came back all clear, and I was immediately relieved. It was the first time in my life that I realised my lifestyle could be dangerous. I steered clear of Dax, and all men, for a couple of weeks, keeping things pretty professional in the day and not partying with them at night.

When we arrived in Singapore though, that all changed. Dax came to my hotel room and asked me to go to dinner with him. I couldn’t really say no, as I was heading out to eat anyway. We talked and laughed, and I explained to him my ‘no rubber, no sex’, policy. He apologised, explaining that he just got carried away at that moment. It was actually nice to be out and relaxed with him again.

Dax came back to my hotel room that night, and we had fully protected, completely mind-blowing sex; and started something that I’d had no intention of starting.

I became ‘that girl’. Without knowing it was happening, I was the girl on tour. Sleeping with the rock star each night and following him around each day. Granted I had a job to do but still, we became sort of exclusive and it was just not me.

I fell into what could be called a relationship with Dax, and I suppose I did like it. He would sit with his guitar, writing and playing music while I edited photos I had taken and started putting artwork together. It was nice to be with someone creative for a change, I did like that he understood when I needed to just not talk for a while, and when I needed to get fucked up.

That’s when the cracks started to show; Dax started to party harder, the longer the tour went on, and eventually the sober moments were few and far between. I tried to talk to him, get him to stop, I even stopped myself; seeing what drugs were doing to this enthralling, beautiful man was enough to make me stop completely. I didn’t ever want so much as a cigarette again. I guess me being totally sober made it harder because everything was even clearer, and I wanted out. I still had a few months on my contract, and I’d never backed out of a contract, but it was becoming unbearable, watching him spiral. He needed help, and nobody would listen to me.

I tried to grin and bear it as we made our way across the world and back to the states, but when we got to New York, I had reached my limit. Dax had two days without work, and for those two days, he completely disappeared. I begged Phil to get him some help, and he assured me he would, but as soon as Dax resurfaced, Phil invited him to a party. Change was not coming, and I wasn’t going to stick around to watch him kill himself.

“Mummy, come on, silly, you’ll be all wrinkly.”

Holly stands next to the pool holding a towel, and I realise that I must have been sitting in the pool for ages. I stand, put Vinnie down on the sun lounger and take the towel from the girl. “Thank you, baby,” I say, wrapping it around my body as she runs back into the house. “That’s enough for one day,” I tell Vinnie, as I pick him up and head inside.

I wake with a start and turn to look at the clock; six am. I don’t know why I’m awake at this time, but I don’t feel sleepy, so must have just been ready to wake up. Cooper is still fast asleep in his travel cot, and Ben is out cold, next to me. I get out of bed, pull on some yoga pants, a vest top and my cardigan and head out of the bedroom. Looking into Holly’s room, I see that she’s still asleep too, so I put on my flip flops and head out of the front of the house, down onto the beach.

I sit on the beach, running my fingers through the sand and watching the small waves rising up and bursting on the shore. It’s been a year since I left that house and walked barefoot along this stretch of beach, towards Ben, and became his wife; a whole year has passed, and we did it. Three hundred and sixty-five days of absolute wedded bliss. The happiest year of my life.

When Ben proposed to me, I knew I wanted to marry him, I was in no doubt that he was the man that I wanted to grow old with, but this was me. In the back of my mind, I was always worried that I’d get scared and run for the hills. Or that I’d get bored and run for another man’s bed, but now I know that will never happen. My Ben is everything to me; he still makes me laugh daily, makes me weak at the knees, and makes me come, like nothing I’ve ever known. He’s beautiful, he’s an amazing dad, and he gave me my babies. Even if he ticked none of the other boxes, that one would be enough, but he does; he ticks them all.

I’m head over heels in love, six and a half years and two babies later, and my heart still skips a beat when I see, hear, or even smell him.

“Morning, beautiful,” Ben startles me by leaning down and kissing the top of my head. I smile up at him, and my eyes follow his body as he sits beside me. “The monsters are still fast asleep, happy anniversary.” Ben nudges my shoulder with his and I turn to look him in the eyes as he leans in to kiss me. “Best year of my life.”

He wraps an arm around me and I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder, and we sit, in silence taking in the beauty of the early morning calm on the beach. There’s nobody else around, just the birds pecking away at the sand, and the single dog walker who passed us a while back.

“I love you,” I say, without turning to look at Ben. “I know you know that, but it’s important to tell you. I know I kept you hanging on forever, but saying yes to that first date with you is the best decision I have ever made.” Now I sit up and look my husband in the eyes. “I wish I could marry you over and over again just so that I can show you how much you mean to me.” There are tears in my eyes; what the fuck has this man done to me?

“Philippa Long, are you crying?” Ben says, smiling slightly and making me look away, embarrassed. He uses his hand to turn my face back to his and kisses me again, softly. “You’re everything to me, you have been everything to me for as long as I can remember and having you as my wife, makes me burst with pride every day. I love you.” He kisses me again, and we’re interrupted by the sound of Cooper’s cooing from the baby monitor in Ben’s pocket.

“Duty calls,” I say, standing, and Ben grabs my hand, halting my progress.

“I’ll go, you stay here and enjoy the view.” He stands up, kisses me again, and makes his way back to the house. I sit, and then turn and watch him walk into the front door. I’m so happy, I think, as I turn my attention back to the sea.

It’s our last day in Portugal; we’re heading home tomorrow, and I’m a little sad. We’ve had such an incredible time here, as always. Being here as a family of four, in the house I have so many happy memories in, has made me feel complete. I’ve never felt a sense of peace like it before, and I hope it never ends.

I sit on the beach and read over the last stepping-stone. Dax. There’s not much left to our story, and I look out to sea, contemplative, relieved that I saw the light and wasn’t blinded by his rising star. He found me at a time when I needed thrills and adventure, but without him, I may never have realised that I could find those things without the need for drugs, I’ll always be thankful to him for that.

I didn’t write again while we were in Portugal. It feels unfinished and is niggling away at me, but Ben took the kids and me out for a fantastic day to celebrate our anniversary, and my auntie watched the kids so that we could go out for an evening meal. We flew home and sank back into family life.