Black Girls and Bad Boys: Changing his Tune (7 page)

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T
he next couple of days sped by and then it was time to get on the
tour bus. The budget was tighter than it had been on previous tours, but Noah
was still looking forward to the look on Angie’s face when she saw their new
home – he’d been teasing her, telling her they were going on a reconditioned
red London bus. She definitely hadn’t believed him to start with, but by the
time he started talking about the alterations for the shower cubicle, she
wasn’t sure what to think.

“I’ll take that.” He snatched her case out of her hand and
immediately sagged under its weight. “Bloody hell, what did you pack?”

“It’s not that heavy. It must be the books.”

“Am I that boring you need to bring half a library with you?” He
stopped himself giving her a friendly nudge. She was nowhere near as jumpy any
more, but she still preferred it if he didn’t touch her. If he could only get
her to open up about it...

“You’re the one who said there’d be lots of waiting around. You’ll
be too busy to talk to me most of the time.”

And boredom was a very bad thing for recovering alcoholics. “Oh
well, it’s good exercise for me.” He strode out in front of her to open the
door and watched her face break into a smile when she saw the two-storey coach
waiting for them.

“I knew you were making it up about the red bus.”

“No you didn’t.” They walked out into the front garden.

She stared and stared at the coach. “It’s massive.”

“It’ll have to be. We’re sharing the bottom with John and a couple
of roadies, the band and the other roadies get the top. Do you want the tour?”

She nodded, her smile growing even wider. He led her inside, stowing
her bag near the front. “That’s John’s bed.” He pointed to a panel behind the
driver’s seat.

“Bed?”

“Here.” When he pressed it in the right spot, the panel clicked back
and he slid it open to reveal a neat little bunk with storage space underneath.

“Is mine like that?”

“Yeah, they all are. So you won’t be completely without privacy.”

It was going to be a culture shock being on the road with ten men
and no other women. She leaned inside and peered around. “It’s a good job I’m
not claustrophobic.”

“You’ll only be in there to sleep.” He couldn’t help thinking of
some of the things he’d got up to in bunks like that. Sleep had only been
involved at the very end. He imagined climbing in beside Angie and quickly
pushed the picture away. That wasn’t on the cards. This tour was going to be
completely different to all the other ones he’d been on.

He led the way down the aisle, showing her the table and benches and
the other bunks. “That’s mine, right at the back.” Up until five minutes ago,
it had seemed the most logical thing in the world to have her in the bunk
closest to his. Now he was beginning to wish he’d swapped her with John. No.
It’d be fine – she didn’t think of him like that. He didn’t think about her
like that either. Not really.

“I’m trying mine out.” She walked back up the coach and slid open
the compartment before boosting herself up onto the bed. “I like it,” she said,
sitting with her legs dangling over the side.

He fetched her bag to slot in underneath her and came back just in
time to see her rearranging her floaty skirt. He caught a flash of brown skin
and turned away, his cheeks burning.

Please don’t let me get a crush on her. Not now.
But her perfume drifted down to him and he found himself thinking
of that night out in the garden. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but he could
still remember the awkwardness of their embrace. Funny how something so
ungainly could have felt so right.

Oh no.

“I’m just going to fetch some more of my stuff.” He rushed off the
coach before his brain threw any more embarrassing thoughts at him.

Walking back into the house, he forced himself not to look over his
shoulder. He had to get himself under control or this was going to be a
disaster.

***

E
verything went ridiculously smoothly – the band turned up early,
John was in a good mood and nobody forgot anything important. All in all, it
was enough to make Angelique extremely nervous. Nothing went this well for very
long. Not in her experience. Then Noah went all quiet and disappeared into his
bunk and she started to think she was right.

Should she check on him? She hovered around in the middle of the
coach until John closed his newspaper, called her over to the table and made
her sit down. “What’s the matter?”

She glanced over at the back of the bus. “It’s not like him to be so
withdrawn.”

“He gets like that sometimes. His version of stage-fright. He’ll be
thinking about tonight. Getting it all straight in his head.”

She looked over at his cubicle again. “How can he shut himself up in
there like that?”

He shrugged. “Probably finds it comforting. Like being back in the
womb.”

She couldn’t imagine how anybody would enjoy being in such an
enclosed space, but to each his own.

“You haven’t seen him play before, have you?”

“Not a gig, no.” She knew most of the new songs just from hearing
him play around the house, but his back catalogue was something she’d had no
exposure to.

“Tonight will be a good introduction.”

“Yeah, he was telling me about the secret gig.” None of the fans
even knew where it was yet. The location was going out to his fan club email
list about an hour before the set started. “He said it’s years since he’s
played anywhere this small. Sounds like he’s looking forward to it.”

“I thought it was a good way to ease him back in – friendly crowd,
intimate venue.”

As they carried on chatting, Angelique forgot to worry about Noah
and started to relax. This was the longest conversation she’d ever had with
John. He was a lot warmer than she’d given him credit for.

As they drove on, glimpses of dirty blue sea appeared in the gaps
between buildings.

“Will we have time to go to the beach?” She hadn’t been to the coast
for years. It would be sad to come this close and leave without having a
paddle.

“The gig finishes at eight. As long as we’re ready to roll by nine
tomorrow, you can do whatever you like.” The coach slowed down and he craned to
see out of the front window. “Looks like we’re here.”

“Thanks, John.”

“What for?”

“Taking my mind off things.”

“Look.” He pointed behind her to the back of the bus.

Noah was out of his den and stretching his lithe body until his
hands pressed against the ceiling. His black t-shirt rode up and she glimpsed
the dark line of hair that ran from the top of his jeans up over his taut
stomach. She looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed where her gaze had fallen.

He was her friend – her charge. She didn’t have those sorts of
feelings for him. It must have been because they’d been trapped in the bus
together for so long.

But she hadn’t been looking at John’s stomach, had she?

“Everyone okay?”

She nodded, feeling very self-conscious.

“Yeah,” John said. “Do you want to tell the others we’re about to
park up?”

Noah headed for the stairs and she kept her eyes firmly on the
table. She knew he was wearing one of his many pairs of skinny jeans. It
wouldn’t be safe to look up until he was well out of the way. She had to nip
this thing in the bud.

***

T
here was just about time to get something to eat before the gig,
but John and the driver were the only people who had any appetite. Noah sat in
the dressing room, strumming his battered acoustic guitar to settle his nerves.
His fidgeting had already annoyed the band to the point where they’d gone out
to the stage. Now they sat with their instruments holding a stop-start
conversation and having a post-sound-check sound-check. Angelique kept walking
from the bar to the dressing room and back again.

After he’d bought a bag of crisps and a chocolate bar, John found himself
a seat near the back of the room. Angelique sat with him briefly, but she was
too antsy to stay sitting down for long. Time ticked on and she went out to see
Noah one last time before she made herself sit down.

She popped her head round the door. “Break a leg.”

He put down his guitar. His electric one was waiting onstage for
him. “Come in here a minute.”

She walked inside, leaving the door open and feeling strangely
uncomfortable.

“I’ve got something for you. To say thank you.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” He put his hand in his pocket and brought out a
silver chain. Then he straightened it out to reveal a locket. “I thought you
could put a picture of Lewis in it.”

“That’s really...” The words caught in her throat. She didn’t want to
break down in front of him, but she couldn’t think about Lewis these days
without coming close to tears.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” He took a step towards her and froze.

She knew he was thinking of her problem with being touched. It
wasn’t fair on him. He was being so kind. “Will you put it on me?”

He looked into her eyes and for a second or two, she thought she saw
the same discomfort she was feeling. But that was ridiculous. What did he have
to feel uncomfortable about?

He unhooked the chain and came to stand behind her. She lifted her
hair up out of the way. He brought the necklace down so that the locket rested
on her breastbone. His breath was hot on the back of her neck as he fiddled
with the fastening.

“Nearly got it.”

His large fingers were better suited to playing the guitar than
working the clasp on delicate jewellery. “You should stop biting your nails.”

“Yeah, and you should stop smoking.” He finally got the catch closed
and put his hands on her shoulders.

She stopped breathing.

“Sorry.” He went to take his hands away, but she put hers on top of
them.

“No. It’s okay. I need to get over this.” She was glad she couldn’t
see his face. It was easier to feel his hands on her when she didn’t have to
meet his eye.

She let go of him. He left his hands on her shoulders, the edges of
his index fingers just barely grazing the skin at the neck of her blouse.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. One step at a time. Turning around, she looked
up into his eyes. “Thanks. For the necklace. It was really thoughtful.” She
could still feel his touch, even though he’d dropped his hands to his sides.

“You like it?”

“It’s beautiful.” Footsteps echoed outside and she looked at the
clock on the wall. Time to go. “I’ll see you afterwards.” Getting up on her
tiptoes, she placed a kiss on his cheek and hurried away.

***

“Y
ou ready?”

Noah was still holding the kiss to his cheek when John walked in. He
quickly turned to snatch the set list off the table. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

She’d kissed him. Okay, it was only on the cheek, but it had to mean
something, right?

“Are you alright? You look a bit spaced out?”

“Yeah. Nerves.” He wasn’t lying, but there was only one member of
the audience he was nervous to play in front of.

“You’ll be fine once you start.” John gave him a pat on the back.
“Angelique’s at the back with me.”

“Okay.” He wouldn’t be able to see her back there. He had a feeling
that knowing she was there would be just as distracting.

What’s wrong with you?

He shook himself off and got on the stage. Well, to call it a stage
was generous. It still felt good to be up there though.

The bar was nice and full, even if it was only small. The drummer
hit his sticks together and the spotlights went up. Applause filled the room,
along with a few cheers.
This is it. This is what I’ve been working for.

They started off with an old favourite and the fans sang along. He
looked out over the sea of faces, but he’d been right – Angie was too far away
for him to see.

The first song came to an end and they dived into another. The feel
of her lips burned into his skin. He couldn’t shake her off. All the way
through the set, his eyes kept going back to the top of the room, searching for
her even though he knew he wouldn’t see her.

As they played on, he pushed himself harder. The band kept up. He
was impressed – they’d only been playing with him for a couple of weeks, but
they were seriously tight. He took advantage of their skill and started to
improvise, thinking of Angie’s love of jazz. He wanted her to like his music.
He wanted her to love it.

Singing and playing became instinctive and he reached a state that
was almost meditative. Before he knew it, they were into their second encore,
and then it was all over. The crowd was stamping its feet, begging for more,
but he was wrung out. He waved his thanks and got down from the stage.

He was exhausted, dripping with sweat and ravenously hungry. At the
edge of his awareness, thoughts of beer and charlie tried to sidle their way
in, but he put up a wall. He needed a shower and good meal. All the other
cravings were just down to bad habits.

His hand went to his cheek without him thinking about it.

Maybe not all the other cravings.

***

T
hey served food at the bar, but no one suggested eating there – it
was quietly understood that staying in the midst of all that alcohol wasn’t a
great idea. Fortunately, John said he’d spotted a fast food place within
walking distance.

They set off in that direction, everyone buzzing from the gig. After
waiting so long to eat, the sea air had sharpened their appetites to a fine
edge.

Noah hung back to let Angelique catch up with him. “What did you
think? Could you see all the way at the back?”

She’d been trying to work out what to say ever since they started
walking. “It was weird seeing you like that – doing the rock star thing.” It
hadn’t been like watching someone she knew at all.