Author's note: Many thanks to all the readers who have persisted with this tale of mine. This is the penultimate installment. Thanks and credit are due to the wonderful Hebe Dotson and Anne Baker who tirelessly correct my mistakes and improve my writing – any errors that remain, are mine.

  

No Half Measures

by Jenny Walker

© 2003

PART 21

   

CHAPTER 41

The next day I received a surprising phone call.

"Hello?"

"Hi Cara? Guess who this is?"

I had no idea. "Err…it's an American voice, but beyond that, I haven't the faintest idea."

I heard a chuckle. "You've forgotten me already? It's Aaron."

"Aaron? Aaron Kramer?"

"The one and only."

"What are you phoning me for?"

Another chuckle. "That's the usual response I get when I phone nice girls."

I laughed. "Sorry, I'm just surprised to hear from you."

"Nicely surprised, I hope. I've been hearing that things are going well for you on your side of the pond."

"Yes, not bad at all. I've had a Number One single and my album's doing pretty well. We did a few gigs and most went OK. What about your tour, how's it going?"

"Hellish. I mean in the sense that it's killing me with exhaustion. It's going well, but that's actually why I'm phoning…"

"I'm not sure I follow."

"We've got the West Coast final leg of our tour in the New Year and we had a support band lined up, but the lead singer has fallen while skiing and broken his leg."

I thought I had an idea of where he was heading, but I didn't want to presume anything. "And?"

He chuckled. "I was thinking – who can we get to fill in? A lovely replacement came to my mind."

"Oh, who was that?" I asked. I was going to make him say it plainly.

"I think you know."

"I think you should just tell me," I replied with a smile that he couldn't see.

"Alright, I'll come clean – how would you and your band like to do support for us for our last concerts?"

"I'm certainly tempted. Have you talked to my manager or the folks at Sony here in London?"

Aaron snorted. "Like I'd waste time talking to company flunkies? Naw, I thought I'd go straight to the source and ask you first."

"Tell you what, I'm all for it, but I'll have to run it past The Powers That Be. I'm not such a superstar that I can just order everyone about."

He laughed. "Sure you are; you just haven't realised it yet."

"When are the concerts?"

"We kick off in San Diego on Friday the sixteenth and end up in Seattle on Sunday the twenty-fifth."

"Finish off in your home city," I mused.

"Yeah, hopeless old romantic that I am."

"It sounds great to me. How do we make this happen?"

"I'll get my tour manager to contact your manager and the Sony pimps and tell them to work it out. I can't wait, we'll have a ball."

I laughed. "I hope so." 

----------*----------

 

Not long after that, I received another phone call and again I was surprised at who it was.

"Hello Nic-ola?"

The voice was familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. "Yes?"

"Oh, hello, it's your Auntie Vera here."

I was stunned into silence for a moment and then remembered that it was my turn to speak. I regained my composure and said, "Aunt Vera, how nice to hear from you. How are you?"

"I'm fine," she paused and continued, "Are you well?"

"Yes, I'm grand. What can I do for you?"

"Did your sister happen to mention anything to you about Christmas Day?"

"Yes she did…" I didn't quite know what else to say.

"Well… I was wondering if you would like to come for Christmas dinner?"

"I don't know… I mean, yes, it would be lovely and I'm very grateful to be asked… but it could be difficult."

"With your father, you mean?"

"Yes, we haven't exactly been on the best of terms."

"So I believe and I think it's absolutely ridiculous!" she exclaimed. This was more like the Aunt Vera I remembered. "It's awful that you two haven't spoken since… well you know. What would Esther think about it?"

I closed my eyes and winced. My mother was always such an advocate for family life. I knew that she would be bitterly disappointed if she knew. Did she know? I shook my head to clear such esoteric wonderings. "I don't think she would like it," I replied softly.

Her tone was softer now, "I know I wasn't exactly kind to you last Christmas, Nicola, and I'm not saying I completely condone what you are doing, but I know that families should be together. Not just at Christmas. Please come."

I was blown away by this honesty from her. "I… I guess I could come."

"That's great. I know that Phillip and Dawn will be delighted. Will you be staying with your sister Claire on Christmas Eve before travelling up to us?"

I thought about this for a moment and it did make sense. Then I realised that would mean that my father would be alone on Christmas Eve. Claire had to go and stay with him. "No Aunt Vera, I think Claire should stay in Cardiff on Christmas Eve with Dad. I'll just stay here in London and travel up on Christmas morning."

"Nonsense, child, you can't do that. Be alone on Christmas Eve? Besides, it's far too long a journey to do in one go." She paused for a moment. "Why don't you come and stay with us on Christmas Eve?"

I hesitated. "I don't know… I mean I don't want to put you to any trouble…"

"That's settled then," she interrupted. "It will be no trouble at all. Shall we expect you for tea?"

I was so taken aback that I agreed without thinking and we said our goodbyes. I later phoned Claire and she was pleased to hear that I was coming and especially so when she heard that I was staying over the night before. She agreed with me about her staying with Dad. I asked her if she had prompted Aunt Vera to phone me. There had been a guilty silence before she confessed that she had. She had thought that I would not go unless directly asked. She was probably right. 

----------*----------

 

My Christmas arrangements meant that I had more presents to buy. I don't know if you have ever been shopping along Oxford Street or not, but it is a very busy place at the best of times. Three days before Christmas is not the best of times. In fact, I would be hard pressed to think of a worse time. I imagine that some war zones are more peaceful than the centre of London in the run up to Christmas.

Gareth and I battled our way through the hordes of people frantically searching for that elusive perfect gift. I was reasonably focussed in what I was looking for and did manage to get most of the things on my list. We also headed to Knightsbridge where there was a higher class of frenetic shopping going on. Having spent a significant amount of money and with Gareth loaded down with bag upon bag, I eventually called it a day.

When we got home, Gareth brought in my purchases and we both wearily sank onto a sofa in the den. We gratefully accepted a cup of tea from Mrs. Pantridge.

"Thanks Gareth," I said with a smile.

He rolled his eyes and grinned. "If I'm still working for you next Christmas, you're doing your shopping earlier. Understand?"

I laughed. "I promise." 

----------*----------

 

On Christmas Eve, I gave Gareth and Mrs. Pantridge their gifts and they seemed to be very appreciative. After lunch, I told them both to go home and enjoy their Christmas. Gareth was reluctant to leave.

"I said go!" I smiled as I put my hands on my hips.

He laughed. "As loath as I am not to obey my boss, I'm not sure I should leave."

"Why not? For heaven's sake, Gareth, it's Christmas. Go home."

He shrugged. "I don't mind. Christmas isn't a big thing for me."

"Well you're not working over Christmas. I couldn't afford your rates." I winked.

He grinned. "I don't suppose you'll let me work it for free?"

"No chance!"

"OK… but look, you be careful."

I smiled. "Gareth, the trouble that I'm going to have to deal with – you couldn't protect me from. You haven't met my family."

At last, he agreed to go. He said that he would be back first thing on Boxing Day and I knew better than to argue with him. I packed a suitcase with clothes and the bits and pieces I would need. Alright, I know I was only going to be away for one night, but a girl needs to be prepared for several eventualities. I chuckled to myself as I remembered that, for such a visit, Nick would have brought the one set of clothes he was wearing and a toothbrush. I put my case and the wrapped presents into my little car and set off on the long journey to Swansea. It was just less than two hundred miles away, but there was a slow stream of traffic escaping London that afternoon. It felt good to be among them. There was a certain camaraderie that I imagined. We were all escaping the big city. As much as I loved living in London, at times like that, I just wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle. 

----------*----------

 

I arrived at Aunt Vera's and Uncle Keith's just before six p.m. I had worn a knee-length red tartan skirt with a black top and matching red jacket. It was fashionable, but reasonably conservative. I didn't plan on making things any worse for myself than they had to be. As I stepped out of the car, I realised that I was exhausted from the drive. With a heavy feeling inside, I stepped up to the door and rang the bell.

Aunt Vera opened the door. "Nicola," she said with a smile. "It's good to see you."

"You too, Aunt Vera," I said as I entered. I wasn't sure what to do, but I gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek. She smiled strangely at me.

"You look well, child," she said as she appraised me.

"Thanks," I said with the surprise on my face no doubt being evident.

She shook her head. "This is strange for me, but I have to admit you do carry yourself extremely well."

I grinned. "Aunt Vera, go easy on the compliments. You're starting to scare me."

"Oh, get away," she said waving a hand at me, but she smiled nonetheless. "Keith," she called, "Come and bring Nicola's things in for her."

Uncle Keith came out of the living room and stared at me. After a moment's silence he spoke, "Err… hello Nicola. It's nice to have you here."

I smiled and for good measure gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek also. He was a little stunned at first, but then hugged me back before going to get my things from the car. I was distracted by the sound of the wildebeest stampeding across the plain and turned around to find that it was actually my cousin Dawn thundering down the stairs. She nearly bowled me over as she encased me in a hug.

"Nicola! Hi! Hi!"

I laughed and steadied myself as I hugged her back. "Hi Dawn, how are you?"

"I'm great," she gushed. "Oh my God, I can't believe that the great Cara Malone is staying with us."

"Dawn," Aunt Vera said sternly, "Don't take the Lord's name in vain."

"Sorry, Mum," she said reflexively, not even looking at her mother.

I swatted Dawn lightly on the arm. "None of that nonsense. I'm just your ordinary cousin Nicola."

She laughed. "You? Ordinary? I think not! You look fantastic."

I grinned. "You're looking pretty good yourself."

I turned around again as I heard more feet on the stairs. It was Phil.

"Hi, Phil," I said brightly.

He grinned. "Hi, Nicola."

We hugged.

Dawn grinned. "Mum has a bit of a dilemma. She doesn't know where you're going to sleep tonight…"

"Dawn," Aunt Vera interrupted in a warning voice.

Dawn ignored her. "You see, there are three bedrooms. Mum and Dad's, mine, and Phil's. It wouldn't be appropriate to have you sleep on the couch in the living room, would it?"

I didn't want to get involved, but said noncommittally, "If you say so."

She continued, "So obviously I said you could share with me, but Mum wasn't too happy about that."

Aunt Vera stopped Dawn in mid-flow, "Dawn, I just said it was a strange situation and I wasn't sure what was best."

Phil slid his arm around my shoulders. "Mum, I'm happy to share my bed with her if you think that's a better option." He gave a lascivious wink and my poor Aunt's eyes nearly popped.

"Phillip! Behave yourself and let your cousin go." She sighed. "Alright, Nicola, would you mind sharing with Dawn?"

I stifled a laugh. "Not at all, that would be fine."

"Aww," Phil said as he pouted, "I'm all disappointed."

Aunt Vera glared at him as she headed for the kitchen. Phil, Dawn and I went into the living room and caught up with what had been going on in our lives. They told me that they had enjoyed the Cardiff concert. I remonstrated with them over them not telling me in advance that they were coming. I told them in future they had to let me know as I would get them complimentary tickets.

At the dinner table, the conversation was initially a little stilted, but it soon improved. Phil and Dawn kept asking me questions about my music and what I had been doing. Before long, Aunt Vera and Uncle Keith actually joined in with questions of their own and I realised that they were more interested than they would like to let on. It was lovely to share a family dinner with them and it reminded me of what I had been missing.

After we had finished our meal, I helped Aunt Vera with the washing up. "Aunt Vera, I just want to tell you how grateful I am that you've allowed me to come and stay here." I paused. "I've missed the family feeling so much…" I broke off, as I suddenly felt choked.

She noticed and she smiled warmly. "Come here, child." She hugged me tight and whispered, "I'm sorry for being such an old biddy at times. It's hard for us old dogs to accept new tricks from you young ones."

I had to fight hard to keep the tears back. As Aunt Vera was my mother's sister, there was a certain familiar resemblance there and as we hugged, it felt so much like it had with my own mother.

The rest of the evening was spent helping them to do some last minute gift wrapping and watching an old Christmassy film on TV. I began to relax more and more. That is, when I was able to forget about the impending reunion with my father the next day. 

----------*----------

 

"You sure you don't mind sharing your bed with me?" I asked Dawn as she closed the door of her bedroom behind us.

"Mind? Of course not. Why would I?"

I shrugged. "I just don't want to freak you out."

She shook her head. "Don't be silly. Now come on and get ready for bed." She paused. "Do you want me to leave while you change?"

I laughed and shook my head. "No, I'm fine."

As I slipped off my top and my bra, I noticed her peeking at me. I bashfully held my nightdress in front of my chest.

"What is it?" I asked.

She grinned and apologised. "I'm sorry, but… wow! You've got fantastic breasts."

"Dawn!" I protested.

She giggled. "Sorry, but I sort of always wondered whether it was all padding or the real thing. Although, having seen some of the outfits you wear, I suppose I should have known."

I felt myself redden. "It's not quite the real thing. I did have surgery."

She grinned. "Looks real enough to me." She sat and brushed her hair and continued. "Last Christmas, I thought you looked great but I wondered if it was just a phase or something. Looking at you now, there's no doubt that you're meant to be Nicola, not Nick."

"Thanks… I think," I replied as I slipped into bed.

She climbed in the other side and switched off the light.

"Now enough about me," I said, "Time to get down to real business."

"What do you mean?"

"I hear you're still seeing that chap Adam. So, it's been over a year now. Sounds serious to me. Fill me in on all the details." 

----------*----------

 

We exchanged presents the next morning and the atmosphere was light and relaxed. I received some nice gifts and the others seem pleased with what I had bought for them. I had tried not to be too flashy with what I bought for them, but had perhaps gone a little over the top.

Of course, with it being Christmas morning, we went to Church. I wore a knee-length red jersey dress and my black suede boots. As we sat in the pew, I noticed that Phil's gaze kept drifting down to my legs.

I nudged him and grinned. "Keep your eyes to yourself."

He choked a laugh and whispered back to me. "I can't help it. I'm sitting beside a gorgeous celebrity."

I enjoyed the singing of the carols as always and it was comforting to hear the Christmas story presented clearly in the readings and the message that the minister brought.

When we got back home, I felt the tension rising within me, as I knew that my father and Claire would soon be arriving. 

----------*----------

 

Dawn and I were helping Aunt Vera in the kitchen with the Christmas Dinner preparations. Uncle George arrived before long and made his usual loud dramatic entrance. He came striding into the kitchen with two bottles of wine clinking in his hands.

"Hello, nieces! How's about a hug and kiss for your favourite uncle?"

As Dawn obliged him, I grinned and, feigning an innocent look, said, "But Uncle George, I've already hugged and kissed Uncle Keith."

He laughed and shook his head. "I always said you were too smart for your own good. Look at you, kid. I have to say I've been mightily impressed with what you've achieved this past year. You'd be amazed how much it does for my reputation with my younger clients when I happened to mention who my famous niece is."

I grinned and gave him his hug and kiss. "Thanks, Uncle George, I'm glad someone's proud of me."

He gave me a knowing and sympathetic smile and squeezed my shoulder. "Now, who's going to join me in a glass of wine or do I have to make my lonely pilgrimage to Yuletide inebriation unaccompanied again?"

I chuckled. "I'll join you for the first part of your journey, but I think you'll have to finish the quest alone."

He winked as he poured me a glass. "Maybe you'll surprise us both with new-found stamina for this noble pursuit."

If only he knew, I thought, but made a mental note to show some restraint. 

----------*----------

 

I had already accompanied Uncle George through my second glass of his wine, when the doorbell rang. The sudden adrenaline rush and apprehension that I felt made me drink the rest of my third glass fairly quickly. Aunt Vera had scurried out of the kitchen to answer the door and she had pulled the kitchen door half closed behind her. Dawn noticed my uneasiness and she slid her arm around my waist and gave me an encouraging smile. We listened to the greetings taking place in the hallway.

"Merry Christmas, Bill, Merry Christmas, Claire," Aunt Vera said.

"The same to you, Vera," I heard my father say. I shivered involuntarily at the sound of his voice and was filled with conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I wanted to run out and give him a hug, but on the other hand I felt like fleeing out the back door.

Uncle Keith added his greetings too. I heard Aunt Vera clear her throat nervously before speaking. "Claire… did you mention anything to your father?"

"Mention what?" my father asked.

"No, Aunt Vera, I didn't," Claire said quietly.

"What are you all talking about?" my father asked.

"Bill, Christmas is a family time as you know and there's someone here who should be here. She's quite uptight about seeing you, but I know she's missed you. I'm pretty sure you've missed her too if you would just admit it to yourself."

"You've all been scheming behind my back, haven't you?" my father said in a low voice, but I could just about hear him nonetheless.

"Nicola," Aunt Vera called, "Do you want to come out here?"

I didn't, but I did as requested. I slowly opened the kitchen door fully and stepped into the hall with trepidation. I looked at my father and, seeing him standing there in the flesh, I felt as if my heart was aching. I forced a smile and in a croaky voice said, "Hello, Dad."

His eyes narrowed and he looked me up and down. He took a deep breath and looked back to Aunt Vera and Claire. In a soft voice he said, "I don't appreciate being set up like this." He looked back to me and, for a moment, I thought he was going to speak to me. However, he simply shook his head and walked on into the living room.

Aunt Vera shrugged sympathetically and murmured, "Give him time, dear. He'll come round."

Claire came over to me and gave me a hug. "Merry Christmas, sister of mine."

"Merry Christmas," I replied, but I didn't feel very merry. Inside I felt the bitter hurt of rejection all over again. I could feel the moisture building up around my eyes, but I blinked furiously to clear it. I was determined not to break down and give him the satisfaction of seeing me crying.

Claire sighed. "I'm sorry, Nicola, I really thought he would realise it was time to make up. He might yet."

I shook my head. "I doubt it," I said in a wavering voice. "Did he… did he even ask… did he want to know where I was going to be today?"

She looked away and then shook her head. "No, he didn't. I think deep down he wanted to, but you know how stubborn he can be."

I did and that was the problem. Unless my father chose to change his mind, there was little point in anyone trying to change it for him. I realised that as well meaning as Aunt Vera had been, there was little chance of her plan succeeding.

We busied ourselves in the kitchen, as dinner was almost ready to be served. Uncle George placed another full glass in my hand and I accepted it gratefully. Aunt Vera called everyone to the dining room and we all took our places. Thankfully she'd had the wisdom not to seat my father beside me: he was at the other side of the table. I took my seat and cast furtive glances in his direction. He was deliberately not looking at me it seemed.

Dinner was served and Uncle Keith gave thanks for the food. We began to eat and there was a definite awkwardness in the conversation. I began to wish that I had not come.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Aunt Vera nudge Uncle Keith and raise her eyebrows. Uncle Keith grimaced and nodded. He tried to sound casual as he spoke, "So Bill… what do you think of your daughter's success this past year?"

I tried not to wince, but it was hard to keep my expression neutral. All eyes were on my father. He slowly finished the mouthful that he was eating and then set his knife and fork down. He regarded Uncle Keith thoughtfully and in a measured tone said, "I presume you are referring to my daughter, Claire, being made a partner in her firm. Yes, I am very proud of my daughter indeed."

I looked down and wished that the ground would open up and swallow me. Uncle Keith tried to redirect my father, "Err Bill, I wasn't talking about Claire…"

Claire interrupted with frustration evident in her voice, "Oh for heaven's sake Dad, would you just wise up and stop pretending that Nicola isn't here!"

"Don't talk to me like that, young lady," he said sternly. I could see Claire bristling and readying herself for another go at him.

I stood up and set my napkin down on the table. "That's enough," I said quietly, but everyone heard and focussed their attention on me. "I'm not going to be the cause of everyone fighting here." I looked at my father and with my voice shaking I said, "Dad, I love you and I miss you." For the first time he was looking straight at me and I went on, "As much as I love you, I'm not prepared to sit here and have you ignore me at best and belittle who I am at worst. Perhaps I was wrong to come here today, but all I wanted was to be with my family. I'm going to leave now and the rest of you can do what you want. I'm not going to be involved in any more attempts at 'setting you up' as you called it. If you want to talk to me, Claire will tell you where you can find me." I looked at him pointedly, but he just looked away after a moment.

I knew I had to get out of the room immediately before I broke down in front of them. I ran upstairs and grabbed my case and the presents I had been given. I was met by Claire and Aunt Vera at the bottom of the stairs.

"Don't go, dear," Aunt Vera said gently.

"Yes, please stay, Nicola," Claire urged.

I shook my head. "I can't… I can't deal with it. It's too much." I felt a tear trickle down my cheek and that was just the start of it. "I have to go right now."

Aunt Vera reluctantly opened the door for me and as I put my things into my car she called to me, "Nicola, anytime you want to come – you're welcome here."

"Thanks, Aunt Vera," I said in a choked voice, "Thanks for everything and I'm sorry things didn't work out as planned."

"Where are you going?" Claire asked with concern.

"Home," I said softly, "I'm going home." 

----------*----------

 

On the long drive I experienced a wide range of emotions. The first was mostly sorrow and self-pity as I cried my way across South Wales. It was just as well that the roads were practically empty as at times the tears flowing from my eyes significantly impaired my vision. Although I had been sceptical about how my father would react, I realised that deep down inside I had been hoping that he would be pleased to see me. I had hoped that we would be able to put our differences aside and begin to mend the relationship that I been missing so much. However, the reality of the disappointment was a crushing blow to my hope. Someone once said that if you lost hope, you lost everything. I could understand that.

Somewhere on the M4 south of Bristol, my sorrow turned into anger. I felt angry that my father thought he could just cut me out of his life, like removing an irritating wart or something. I was angry with myself for caring so much about what he thought of me. I was angry at the world for being such a messed up place. It was irrational, I know, but try telling anger that. As the rage boiled within me, I floored the accelerator and tried to burn out my fury with speed. It was cathartic and all going very well until I heard a siren and saw a blue flashing light in my rear-view mirror. Suddenly the anger left me and was replaced with another unpleasant emotion: fear.

As I pulled over onto the hard shoulder and stopped my car, I realised that I was in big trouble. Not only had I been driving significantly over the speed limit, but when I thought about it I was fairly sure that I would be over the legal limit for alcohol given the four glasses of wine I had consumed earlier. I sat there cursing myself for my stupidity and waited for the officer to walk up to my car.

He tapped on the window and I lowered it. "Could you please step out of the car, ma'am?"

I smiled weakly and nodded as I did what he requested. He was middle-aged and had a somewhat bored appearance.

"Have you any idea what speed you were doing, ma'am?"

I smiled and shrugged. "I'm not exactly sure, officer, but I guess it was over the speed limit."

He nodded. "Look, I'm not in the business of really wanting to pull people over on Christmas Day, but you were travelling at eighty-five miles per hour, which is fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit."

I bit my lip and winced. "I'm really sorry, officer." I was sure he was going to suggest an alcohol breath test.

He looked at me and frowned. "Have you been crying? Are you alright?"

No doubt my eyes were red and puffy. I smiled ruefully and nodded. "Yes, I know it's Christmas, but our family gathering wasn't exactly peace and goodwill."

For the first time he smiled. "I know how that is." He seemed to relax a little and I noticed him actually taking in the rest of my appearance. He shrugged. "To be honest, I volunteered to work today, but don't tell my wife that. I just can't stand her mother."

I laughed despite the terrible situation. I noticed him looking at me closely and dreaded that he was wondering if I had been drinking. "Err… what is it?" I asked cautiously.

He inclined his head. "You just look awfully familiar." He chewed his lip and then his eyebrows shot up. "Wait a minute! I know who you are."

I managed a tentative smile. "You do?"

"You're Cara Malone, aren't you?"

I grinned semi-apologetically. "Yes, I am."

He shook his head and smiled. "I thought you looked familiar. I suppose I should have worked it out earlier."

I saw my chance and smothering my shame, I went for it. I gave him a full smile and slowly pulled my shoulders back, which emphasised the outline of my breasts. Speaking with exaggerated shyness, I said, "What are you going to do, officer?"

He looked pensive for a moment and then shrugged and smiled. "Aww hell, it's Christmas, isn't it? Look, I'll let you off with a stern caution. I shouldn't really, but to tell you the truth, I can't be bothered with the paperwork." He winked conspiratorially and said in a quieter voice, "Plus I'm also quite a fan of yours."

I laughed softly and smiled gratefully. "Thank you, officer. I know you don't have to do this, but I really appreciate it."

He gave a goofy sort of grin and then regained his composure. He cleared his throat and, business-like once more, said, "Make sure you slow down, though, the roads may be quiet, but that doesn't excuse driving at speed."

I tried to look suitably chastised and I nodded solemnly. "I promise I'll slow down. Thanks again and…" I smiled a wide smile, "…Merry Christmas."

I saw him look at my legs as I swung them back into my car. He chuckled and said, "It sure beats seeing the mother-in-law."

As I drove off, I exhaled slowly. For the rest of the tedious journey, I made sure that I kept within the speed limit. The wallowing self-pity and the fiery anger had gone. In their place was a hollow tiredness. 

----------*----------

 

It was early evening when I finally arrived home. The house was dark, cold and empty. I turned the heat up and switched on most of the lights. I slumped down onto the sofa in the den and sat there staring at the wall.

"Humbug," I muttered to myself.

I was so tired, yet I felt certain that I wouldn't be able to sleep. I just wanted to switch off and float into a blissful unconsciousness where I would be shielded from the hurt and pain that was gnawing away at me like a dull ache inside. I wandered upstairs and into my bathroom. I opened the bathroom cabinet and looked at the sleeping tablets that Dr. Carson had prescribed for me. After a long pause, I took the bottle and went to sit at my dressing table. I opened the bottle and poured the contents onto the table in front of me. The bottle had been half full. I sat and stared at the tablets. I longed to numb myself from the emotional distress that was dogging me. I reached out my hand towards the tablets, intending to pick up a handful, but my hand shook so much that I quickly withdrew it. I realised that sweat had broken out on my forehead.

"I can't do this cold," I muttered.

I went downstairs and looked at my wine rack. "Shit," I murmured when I remembered that, between my party and my 'nightcaps' the subsequent evenings, I had exhausted my meagre wine collection. I opened the fridge, but there was only a solitary can of beer remaining from the party. I still didn't like beer and closed the fridge with frustration. Although, it was Christmas Day, there had to be a store open somewhere. I know that I was being driven by an irrational desire, but I didn't really stop to think. I grabbed my bag and keys and headed out. 

----------*----------

 

I drove around aimlessly in my unsuccessful quest to find an open off-licence store. I headed towards the city centre figuring that I would have a better chance of finding one there. Eventually, in the Fitzrovia area, I spotted a dingy-looking store with its lights on. I went in and looked around. Initially I thought of picking up a few bottles of wine, but then changed my mind. I decided to go for something stronger and remembered that I had found vodka and cola reasonably palatable. I grabbed a bottle of cola and joined the queue. The vodka bottles were kept behind the counter. I had a baseball cap pulled down as low as it would go and hoped that no one would recognise me.

"Nicola?" a voice asked from behind. "Is that you?"

I stiffened at the words. Had I been recognised? I thought about it quickly: if someone had casually recognised me, they would have called me Cara. It must be someone that I knew. I slowly turned and saw a black face with a large wide grin on it.

"Dang, it is you, I knew it."

"Sam?" I asked uncertainly.

"The one and only!"

It was Sam the kitchen assistant from 'Trin's Dins'. I smiled. "Wow, what are you doing here? Nice outfit by the way." He was wearing surgical scrubs under his overcoat.

He laughed. "I just got off work. I'm doing my house officer year in the Middlesex Hospital just round the corner."

"They let you be a doctor?" I asked as I winked.

He chuckled and then frowned. "Yeah and then they made me go and work Christmas Day… until now."

A face peeked around from behind him and nudged him in the ribs. Sam turned and laughed. "Oh, Nicola, I almost forgot, this is my little sister, Jessie. She's a huge fan of yours and never believed it when I told her that I used to work with you."

She nudged him again in the ribs. "Sam," she protested, "You're making me sound like a stupid little girlie fan." She didn't look like a little girl and I estimated that she was in her late teens.

He grinned. "Sure that's what you are. I mean you've got all Nicola's… or rather Cara's singles, and all those posters."

"Sam," I said with a smile, "Stop teasing her so." I turned to her and held out my hand, "Pleased to meet you, Jessie."

She took my hand and as she shook it, her eyes goggled. I laughed. "Jessie, I'm really just an ordinary person."

Sam nodded. "See that's what I told her. 'Jessie,' I said, 'That Nicola's a down-to-earth lovely girl.'" He grinned. "Dang, I could hardly believe it was you when I saw your first single released. I always knew there was something different about you."

I grinned and shrugged. "Sure, and you were playing the down-trodden kitchen boy when here you are now – the big shot doctor."

He rolled his eyes. "If you saw the menial tasks I had to do… I'm no big shot." He grinned and winked. "But maybe some day…" He furrowed his brow. "Say, what are you doing here, Nicola?"

I looked down at the bottle of cola in my hand and was immensely grateful that I had not yet managed to get my hands on the bottle of vodka. I shrugged, smiled and held up a bottle of cola. "Ran out of something to drink."

He nodded. "Why aren't you home with your family or something?"

We had stepped out of the queue as we talked. I winced and looked away. "The family gathering didn't go too well."

"If you don't mind me prying, can I ask what you are going to do now?"

I grinned ruefully and replied, "I was going to go home and drink my bottle of cola."

"Alone?" he asked incredulously.

I nodded and blinked a few times in quick succession, feeling uncomfortable.

"No way," he said firmly.

"I beg your pardon?"

He grinned. "Jessie and I are heading home to have our Christmas dinner, and you're coming too. She's been waiting all day for me to finish work."

"What about your Mum, Sam? Don't I remember you telling me about how you could never bring home 'no white girl'?"

His expression clouded and he smiled sadly. "Momma passed away a few months ago." He paused and then, by way of explanation, added, "Cancer."

I bit my lip. "Gosh, I'm so sorry Sam. I had no idea… I didn't mean to…"

He shrugged. "You weren't to know." He sighed. "Didn't I read earlier this year that you lost your Mum too?"

I nodded. "Yes," I replied softly.

The three of us stood there together. We were relative strangers, yet in that moment, we were bound together by a shared pain, a shared knowledge. We didn't have to speak about it; we just knew what the others were feeling.

"Stinks, doesn't it?" Sam said softly.

"It does," I agreed sadly.

He shook himself and forced a smile. "Right, come on, I may be a doctor, but I haven't forgotten all my old tricks from the kitchen. It may only be a turkey joint fresh from the freezer, but there's plenty enough for three."

I smiled and shrugged awkwardly. "Sam, I don't want to intrude."

"Intrude? What you talking about, girl?" He turned to Jessie, "Do you mind if Nicola here joins us?"

Her eyes widened so much that I almost expected her eyeballs to land on the floor. "Hell, no," she said with something approaching awe.

Sam laughed. "That's settled then. Do you want to follow us to our lovely apartment?"

I grinned. "Do I have a choice?"

"None whatsoever!"

"OK then." I grinned. "I've got the drinks, though," I said as I held up my bottle of cola. 

----------*----------

 

I followed them back to their place. It was a little two-bedroom apartment in the Lambeth area, just south of the river. I'd been in worse areas, but had been in much better ones too. The apartment was clean and well looked after. Sam, true to his word, was still no slouch in the culinary department and we enjoyed a delicious meal. The company was good and we laughed 'til we cried about the time we had spent working together in the restaurant. Sam had a natural free sense of humour that was irrepressible. He said that he had laughed and laughed when he heard to whom 'You Make My Skin Crawl' was dedicated. He still kept in touch with some of the kitchen staff and apparently, they had stuck an inlay card from my album on the wall and had highlighted the song.

At the end of the evening I yawned. "I should be getting home."

Sam looked at me sideways. "Going back to an empty house?"

I nodded and smiled. "'Fraid so."

He nodded and shrewdly remarked, "You're not that fussed about that, are you?"

I laughed and waved a hand. "Not particularly, but beggars can't be choosers."

He frowned. "Nicola, girl, don't say that."

I shrugged. "I was only kidding, really."

He thought for a moment and then nodded. "Why don't you stay here tonight?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Sam, I couldn't. You've been more than kind already. I couldn't impose on you…"

He interrupted. "Tell me the truth: would you rather go back to your empty house on Christmas Day or would you rather stay here. If you'd rather go home, I'm not going to pressure you into staying."

I sighed and thought about it. When I thought about my house, I pictured the tablets that I had strewn across my dressing table and I shuddered. I smiled and said softly, "I guess it might be nice not to be alone." I winked, "But don't get any funny ideas, buster. I'm not planning anything that our mothers would have disapproved of."

He roared with laughter and clicked his fingers with mock-frustration. "Dang, and there was Sam thinking he'd been working a slick move." He got serious again. "You know I wasn't thinking anything like that."

I nodded. "I know." Then I smiled coyly and said, "So you don't think I'm attractive then?"

He chuckled. "Women! Can't win no matter what you do."

A thought struck me. "Have you room for me to stay here?"

"Well… there are two beds in Jessie's room, but you can have my room and I'll either bunk in with her or sleep on the couch."

"There's no need for that, Sam. I'm happy to bunk in with Jessie…" I looked over at her, "That is if you don't mind, Jessie?"

She laughed. "I don't mind at all. This evening has been so surreal for me." She paused and frowned, "Can you give me a minute though to remove your posters from the wall?"

I laughed, "Don't bother; I'll try not to look at them." 

----------*----------

 

CHAPTER 42

 

I got back to my house early the next morning. Gareth hadn't arrived yet. I'd woken when Sam had got up. He had an early shift that day and I had shared a quick breakfast with him. Thanking him profusely for his kindness, I had hugged him and given him a gentle kiss on the cheek as he left. Jessie had still been asleep, and I hadn't wanted to waken her. However, at Sam's suggestion, I had autographed the posters on her wall before letting myself out.

Back home, after showering and changing into a T-shirt and jeans, I went downstairs and found that Gareth had arrived.

"Morning, Cara, how was your Christmas?"

I grimaced. "Lousy, and yours?"

He laughed. "Pretty much the same. I bet yours was better though."

I shook my head. "I doubt that."

He raised an eyebrow. "In that case, maybe you should join me for some shared misery next Christmas."

I grinned as I put the kettle on to make some coffee. "It's a deal!" 

----------*----------

 

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of busyness. We had decided to release another single and had eventually agreed on 'I Just Wanna Be Me'. There had been some discussion about releasing 'Simply Say' instead, but after considering it, we felt that 'I Just Wanna Be Me' showed a greater diversity and was significantly different from the last single I'd released. The guys had been squeezed into a slot in the studio to do a few different tracks for the single version: Jon jazzed up his guitar part more and Brian gave it more of a punchy bass line. My vocal was left unchanged, as it had been difficult enough to get it right the first time.

Herby had once again been brought in to weave his magic on the video front. In light of my recent success, Herby had made a case for having a larger budget for this video. He won his case unsurprisingly and we shot the video over three days. He had his plan firmly in mind from the word go and, despite my protestations, he would not budge an inch. Herby maintained that this had to be a fun video. Although it was obviously about me asserting who I wanted to be, there was opportunity for some tongue-in-cheek light heartedness along the way. For each of the three verses of the song, Herby had me in a different scenario that was obviously not me. I groaned when he outlined it to me.

For the first verse, he wanted me in a skimpy schoolgirl outfit dancing down the corridors of a high school. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you the original source of the parody. He even pressured me into wearing a blond wig. I maintained that I wouldn't do it and that I looked nothing like Ms. Spears. Herby persuaded me to follow his plan when he told me that I was indeed correct: he said I was much better looking than the aforementioned artist. Flattery gets you everywhere!

If I thought the first verse was bad, in the second he had me dressed up as Lara Croft. Again I protested that I couldn't pull it off. I told him that I was nothing like the buxom action heroine. Herby smirked, looked down at my chest and then, looking me in the eye and smiling sweetly, told me that he could think of at least two striking similarities. Only Herby could get away with such cheek and yet again, I was doing his bidding. The scenario was a dark alley and the guys in the band were being threatened by some hoodlums. I, as Lara Croft, was to swoop down from above on a rope, kick the bad guys' asses and then coolly accept the grateful thanks from the boys. Corny, I know, but Herby assured me it would be a riot. I was able to manage my part fairly well, but it took several takes for the guys to get the right amount of cringing and then adulation to satisfy Herby.

The third verse had me wearing a dancer's leotard, fishnet tights and high-heels as I danced on a stage with the stereotypical hunky boys dancing behind me. This was actually the hardest one to pull off, as I was not into that sort of dancing at all. I again protested to Herby and told him that I felt ridiculous. He just laughed and enigmatically said that it added to the overall effect. With the help of a choreographer, I managed to master the minimum amount of steps and moves that I needed.

More comfortable scenes accompanied the choruses. Herby's idea was that as I sang the chorus, he would display the 'real me'. So there were images of me playing a grand piano, wistfully looking out of a window as I sat on the windowsill and finally sitting around with the guys on a sofa as we laughed, ate pizza and threw potato crisps at each other.

When we met up to view the final product, I had to agree with Herby that the pain had been worth it. It was hilarious and yet not laughable. Herby had managed to strengthen the message of the song and bring it to life on the screen. I did mention to him that I still looked incredibly awkward in the scenes during the verses. He nodded and smiled and said that he knew that. Apparently he wanted to catch me looking uncomfortable and embarrassed. He gently told me that he was showing the world that although they might think of me as every man's fantasy, this video dispelled that notion and showed me as I really was – a woman. I wasn't sure whether he was taking the hand out of me or not, but he seemed sincere. I think perhaps he believed in the power of his videos a little too much, but I was touched nonetheless. 

----------*----------

 

The single was released on the fifth of January and was getting a lot of airplay. Herby's work seemed to be appreciated by MTV as my video was played over and over again. That Sunday evening, I was blown away to hear that 'I Just Wanna Be Me' was a new entry at Number One! Jools had come over to my place to listen to 'The Chart Show' with me and, instead of dancing, I had to sit down as I thought I was going to faint. We had little time to enjoy any celebrations as the next few days were spent preparing and practising for supporting 'Stealing Time'.

In the midst of my hectic schedule, I had managed to spend a fair number of my evenings with Charlie. We had enjoyed dinners out, a few movies and a West End show. Gareth, true to his word, had 'accompanied' us on these evenings, but most of the time I couldn't even see where he was.

I enjoyed the time I was spending with Charlie, but things were getting a little awkward. At the end of each evening, we would kiss and cuddle. It was quite passionate at times. I don't mean to say that I didn't enjoy these times – it was OK. That was the problem: it was just OK. I realised that Charlie probably was beginning to feel a lot more for me than I was able to reciprocate. He would drop little hints about us being more intimate, but I gently fended off these suggestions. He didn't seem to mind too much. If the relationship was going to be more serious, then I knew that I would have to tell Charlie my deep dark secret.

The question was: did I want the relationship to become more serious? I had little time to sort this out in my mind, as we had to fly out to San Diego that Wednesday. 

----------*----------

 

Compared to the damp chill of London in January, it was a joy to arrive in San Diego and find that it was sunny with temperatures around eighteen degrees Centigrade. There were cars waiting at the airport for us and they ferried us to our hotel. When we walked into the lobby, I saw Aaron heading in our direction. He ran over to me and gave me a big hug. I was quite taken aback when he gave me a kiss full on the lips - especially since the rest of our entourage were standing there watching!

"Hey, mister," I said when he broke the embrace. "That's quite a welcome."

He grinned and shrugged. "I missed ya. It's great to see you. I can hardly believe you're going to join us on the final leg of the tour."

I laughed. "I thought it was supposed to be me that should be star struck at getting to tag along with such megastars as you lot."

He laughed and slipped his arm around my shoulders as he led me to the lifts. "Not at all. We're going to have a ball."

He showed me to my room and then sort of lingered there. I unpacked some stuff and then turned back to him. With a smile I said, "Aaron, I wouldn't mind freshening up and getting changed."

He grinned. "I wouldn't mind that either."

I laughed. "You have to leave, mister."

He frowned. "Really?"

"Yes, really," I said as I gently led him to the door.

He shrugged, stole another kiss and winked as he said, "Maybe if we get to know each other better in the next week or two, you won't be looking to get rid of me so quickly."

Before I could find any words to reply with, he had gone and closed the door behind him. I smiled to myself, feeling quite bemused. I was fairly sure that I was going to be on the receiving end of more attention from Aaron and I needed to work out the best way to handle him. 

----------*----------

 

Thursday was a lazy day that was spent relaxing, recovering from jetlag and doing a little bit of sightseeing. As I was quite keen to prevent Aaron from becoming too friendly too soon, I persuaded Jon to come with me as we checked out the area. We hired cycles and enjoyed pedalling around the bay and seeing a bit more of San Diego. The atmosphere between us was fairly relaxed, but I sensed an undercurrent of tension.

As we walked back to the hotel together later in the afternoon, I casually asked, "So how are things with you and Simone?"

He grimaced and shrugged. "Not good."

There was an awkward pause. "Err… sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

He grinned. "Nah, it's OK. I mean she's gorgeous and what's not to like about her?" I refrained from providing him with a list as he went on, "We just don't seem to connect. She's quite possessive and demanding."

"Are you… still seeing each other?" I tentatively asked.

He shook his head. "I don't think so. We sort of had a big argument before I left. She thought I wasn't paying her enough attention."

I made sympathetic noises. Personally, I thought that no one could ever pay Simone enough attention. She had appeared to me as the sort who craved worshipful devotion and would never be satisfied.

"What about you and Charlie?" Jon asked slowly. "How're things going?"

"Good," I said after a moment's hesitation. Jon seemed to pick up on that.

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes," I said a little defensively. "He's a great guy and I enjoy being with him."

Jon sighed and stopped walking. I did likewise. "Cara, be straight with me, are you really interested in him?"

I frowned. "Yes… I mean I think so… I don't know. Yes, I like him, but we're taking things slowly. Why do you ask?"

"I just don't want him getting hurt."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Either when he finds out about… you, or when you decide that your little game with him is over."

My eyes widened and my voice got louder, "I beg your pardon? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh come on, you're not really interested in Charlie. I don't know what you're trying to prove or what you want out of it…"

I interrupted and spoke in an icy tone, "What business is it of yours? I resent your implications and I have no idea what you're getting at."

He looked me straight in the eye. "He's my cousin. I think you're just using him."

My blood began to boil. "Using him? For what?"

He looked away and shrugged awkwardly. I persisted, "Come on, Jon, share your great insight with me."

He shook his head and started walking again. "It's nothing; I just wondered if… with him being my cousin and all… and with what happened between… us."

I laughed. It wasn't a pleasant laugh. "Oh please! Do you have such an inflated opinion of yourself? Don't be so vain. Why don't you stop thinking that the world revolves around you?"

He looked up at me and his eyes flashed. "That's rich coming from you."

We had arrived at the doors of our hotel and I just strode on through the entrance and left him standing there. I went to my room and flopped down on the bed and closed my eyes. A voice inside my head said, 'That went well.' I told the voice to shove it. 

----------*----------

 

The next day, we went to the concert venue and did our sound check. I was somewhat awe-struck at the size of the auditorium. We were going to be playing to much larger crowds here than we had done at home. Of course, they weren't coming to see us, but it was a great opportunity nonetheless. Simon was fussing around and doing his networking thing. He had been delighted when I told him about Aaron's invitation to join them. He saw this as a second chance to work on the U.S. market. Correspondingly, his American counterparts had teed up 'Forgotten How to Love' for a single release the following week.

Jools had sensed the icy atmosphere between Jon and me. I suppose it was quite obvious, as even during the sound check I had snapped at him at one point. She took me to check out my dressing room.

"OK, spill it. What's going on?"

"What do you mean, Jools?"

"Come on, you and Jon. You were a total Miss Frosty out there with him."

I shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it."

She squeezed my arm. "Hey, it's me. You can talk to me."

I smiled thinly. "Jools, hard as it may be for you to believe, when I say that I don't want to talk about it, I actually mean it sometimes."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, but I wish you and Jon would just get on with it and get it over with."

I turned my head sharply to look at her. "What do you mean?"

She smiled gently. "You two may be the last ones to realise it, but it is so clear that you both have feelings for each other."

I screwed my face up. "That's crap, Jools. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you really have no idea on this matter."

She just raised a questioning eyebrow, but said nothing. 

----------*----------

 

We had been allocated around thirty-five to forty minutes for our set. We had whittled our list of songs down to a shorter running order from what we had played back in the U.K.:

No Half Measures

Living Life in Colour

You Make My Skin Crawl

I Just Wanna Be Me

Simply Say

Forgotten How to Love

Not Dancing, but Flying

Gina helped me to get ready as always. I had insisted that she be brought on the trip. Simon had initially protested about costs and had maintained that there would be make-up artists and wardrobe assistants on the 'Stealing Time' crew that we could make use of. I had put my foot down and he eventually gave in. I wore a white vest top and black leather miniskirt. Gina brushed my hair out to give it more body and did a top notch job on my make-up.

When we stepped out onto the stage, there were cheers and shouts. It certainly was loud given the thousands of people present in the arena, but it didn't have the enthusiasm of a crowd welcoming the band that they had come to see. That was to be expected. We delivered a good performance and I tried to connect with the crowd as I talked to them between the songs. Towards the end of our set, I thought that the response was more genuine and the cheers more enthusiastic.

When we came off stage, Aaron grabbed me, hugged me and kissed me. "You were great, babe."

"Babe?" I said as I screwed up my face and raised an eyebrow.

He grinned apologetically. "You don't like babe?"

I shook my head. "Definitely not."

He chuckled. "You were great anyway. Now how are we going to go out there and follow that?"

I laughed. "I don't think you'll have any problem."

He looked at me and gestured to me. "After seeing you, they aren't going to want to look at me."

I winked. "Want to borrow this skirt when I'm done with it?"

He guffawed. "I don't think I'd look half as good in it as you do."

I smiled and inwardly noted that I'd once thought along similar lines myself.

Of course, he had nothing to worry about as the crowd went wild when they took the stage. From the wings, we had an excellent view of the band giving a gutsy, adrenaline-packed performance. It helped me to realise that despite my taste of success, there were still more heights to aim for. 

----------*----------

 

The next night was pretty much the same as what had gone before. The difference was that, as there was no concert the next day, there was a private bar back at the hotel for the bands and crew after the performance. Jon was animatedly talking away to Ben, the 'Stealing Time' lead guitarist. No doubt they were discussing whether a two or three millisecond digital delay effect was better for a lead guitarist. Aaron predictably tried to monopolise my company and I eventually just decided to relax and enjoy myself. I was aware that he was bringing me a fair amount of drinks.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" I asked with a smile.

He chuckled. "Is that the only way I'm going to have a chance with you?"

I raised an eyebrow. "More like if you get me unconscious."

He shrugged good-naturedly and winked. "You'd better start drinking up then."

I managed to get into my room alone after fending off several kisses in the corridor outside. Gareth clearing his throat loudly after I had said goodnight to Aaron for the third time helped me achieve my goal.  

----------*----------

 

On Sunday afternoon, we flew up to Los Angeles. 'Stealing Time' had chartered a Lear jet and we were invited to fly with them. It was a plush executive jet and just when I had thought that first class was the best way to travel, I had to re-evaluate my decision. The rest of the guys in our band were relishing the opportunity to mingle and chat with these legends of rock.

We had two concerts in L.A. – on Monday and Tuesday. Aaron had suggested that I should join them on stage to sing backing vocals for 'Never Knowing What to Say'. It made sense since I already knew the song. He insisted on a practice nonetheless. I was not overly surprised when I found that it was a private little practice with him on the piano. I had left Gareth outside. We ran through the song a few times and I even improvised a slightly different backing line for the final chorus. He liked it.

"Have dinner with me tonight?" he suddenly asked when we finished.

I was caught off balance. "I… err… I don't know."

He smiled with his trademark boyish charm. "Oh, come on. What harm is there in just having dinner with me?"

I laughed. "Alright, but it's just dinner, OK?"

"Absolutely," he affirmed solemnly as he held his hand to his heart.  

----------*----------

 

He took me to an upscale Beverly Hills restaurant that evening. It was very posh and I was glad that I had worn a fashionable red dress. Aaron had even put on a jacket and smart slacks for the occasion. Being Beverly Hills, the management didn't bat an eyelid when they had to find a secluded spot for Gareth to place himself during the evening. I don't think that Aaron was too enamoured with my discreet escort, but he didn't mention it. We enjoyed a wonderful meal and he accompanied me back to my room at the hotel.

"Can I come in for a drink?" he asked pleadingly.

I smiled. "I don't know if that is a good idea."

He shrugged. "Oh come on, just one drink."

I sighed and against my better judgement agreed. "OK, but you'd better behave. Remember Gareth is just on the other side of the adjoining door."

Gareth coughed discreetly to remind Aaron of that fact as I let him into my room.

We had a drink or two and chatted amiably.

"What's the deal with Gareth?" Aaron asked.

I shrugged. "I had some… threats."

He frowned. "Threats? What do you mean?"

"It's probably just some weirdo and it may be nothing. Some anonymous notes and the like. Not pleasant."

He nodded. "That sucks. Well it looks like you'll be OK with Gareth around."

I smiled. "That's the plan."

What he said and did next surprised me. Aaron looked at his watch and got to his feet. "I'd better be going," he said and then gently kissed me on the lips.

I think he noticed the bemused expression on my face. He chuckled. "I'm a man of my word. We had a few drinks and I behaved myself." He opened the door and looked back at me. "Believe me, I'd love to stay and 'misbehave', but maybe another time." Then he was gone. 

----------*----------

 

The L.A. concerts went well and we played to sell-out crowds both nights. Our performances were good and generally well received. We even got a mention in some of the newspapers' write-ups and the comments were positive. I did my guest appearance during the 'Stealing Time' set for 'Never Knowing What to Say' and Aaron enjoyed embarrassing me as he introduced me. He said that I was a 'beautiful Welsh flower' and that he was in danger of falling in love with my voice and me. I knew that he was teasing me so I laughed it off.

Although I was enjoying the tour, I was feeling a growing discontent within me. Charlie and I had been talking on the phone and I think he sensed something of my ambivalence in regard to our relationship. The bottom line was that I was not really missing him. I think I knew what I had to do when I got home, but it made me all the more irritable. Would I ever find the happiness that I wanted? I know it sounds petty given the success that I had achieved. It wasn't enough. What more did I want? I wasn't sure.

I still wasn't sleeping that well either. I had been blaming that on jetlag initially, but as the days passed, that excuse was less valid. A drink in my room with Aaron became almost a nightly ritual. He was very restrained, and although his goodnight kiss became a little more amorous each night, he didn't push for anything more. He did drop plenty of hints and kept telling me how enchanting I was. I took it with a pinch of salt. I liked him and it was quite flattering for someone who was practically my hero to take such an interest.  

----------*----------

 

On Wednesday morning, we flew up to San Francisco. We were to play two gigs: Thursday and Friday. Jools and I did the tourist thing that afternoon. We wandered about and did some browsing and buying.

"Are you OK?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You just don't seem to be yourself these days."

"I'm fine," I assured her.

"Really?"

I sighed. "Yes, really, I'm alright. Yeah, so maybe some things in my life aren't exactly as I would like them to be, but that's life, isn't it?"

She didn't look convinced. "You and Aaron are spending a lot of time together."

"I suppose we are," I replied noncommittally.

"Do you think you should?"

I turned to look at her. "Why not?"

She shrugged. "Charlie?"

I looked away. "That's one of the things in my life that isn't working out as I had hoped."

"That may be, but I'm not sure that Aaron is… a good influence."

My eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Jools shrugged. "I know he drinks fairly heavily and I just… worry about you."

I sighed. "So we're back to that again?"

She looked uncomfortable. "I'm just trying to look out for you."

I shook my head and snapped at her. "Jools, when will you get it through your head that I don't need mothering. I had one mother and although she's gone, the position isn't being advertised so stop trying to fill it." She looked shocked by my words. I even shocked myself, but I didn't show it.

"I'm… just trying to be a good friend… I know I'm your manager too… but I'm talking to you as a friend."

"Well then maybe I'd prefer 'Jools the manager' to talk to me. I'm a big girl and I don't need you to tell me what to do anymore."

"Fine," she said acidly. "I'm contracted to be your manager so there's no getting around that. I'm not contracted to be your friend and if that's the way you want it…"

We made the journey back to our hotel in an uncomfortable silence. 

----------*----------

 

The San Francisco shows were a great success and we were all on a bit of a high as we made the last leg of our journey up to Seattle. The weather was not as favourable as it had been back in San Diego. It was cool and wet - just like home. Having played in San Francisco on Thursday and Friday nights and with the final two concerts being played in Seattle on Saturday and Sunday, there was little time to rest. We checked in at our hotel and then went to the concert arena for the sound check.

When I got back to the hotel, there was a plain white envelope in my room that had been pushed under the door. I picked it up and opened it. My blood ran cold and I sat down on the bed as I read it once more.

'I'm enjoying your shows, you hot little bitch.'

I'm not sure how long I sat there, but eventually I got up the strength to knock on the adjoining door to Gareth's room.

He opened the door, took one look at me and was immediately concerned. "What's wrong, Cara?"

I handed him the note and he exhaled slowly as he read it. "Damn," he murmured.

I felt quite hysterical and my voice was shaking. "He's here, Gareth. He's here. The envelope was pushed under the door; he knows I'm here. Hell, he even knows my room number."

Gareth shook his head and spoke softly, "You don't know that. Alright, so he knows which hotel you are staying in. That wouldn't be too hard to find out. He may have just handed the note in at reception and asked them to deliver it."

Gareth called Jools and Simon and they joined us in my room. They were both concerned and dismayed.

"Who's doing this?" I asked.

"I don't know," Jools answered softly. 

----------*----------

 

We had only two more concerts to do but I wasn't sure how I was going to manage. Jools and Simon had tried to encourage me that it would be alright. The first concert that evening was OK. I wasn't on top form, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as my Birmingham debacle. After the show Jools tried to reassure me that it wasn't too bad. She said that she and Simon had arranged for us, as in our band only, to have a week's cooling off at an exclusive mountain resort for a few days. All I had to do, she said, was to get through one more concert.

Back at the hotel, Aaron tagged along with me hoping for our usual nightcap and chat together. Although I wasn't in great form, I didn't want to be alone so I was happy enough for him to come in. I was also happy enough to join him in several drinks, but I didn't want to talk about the note. Once again, he stood up to leave. He took me in his arms and kissed me tenderly.

"You know I'm really falling for you, Cara," he said softly.

I laughed and shook my head. "No you're not."

He smiled. "Oh yes I am. I've been good, haven't I?"

I grinned. "You have indeed."

He winked, kissed me once more and said, "Tomorrow night's our night." He left me alone.

I had a fair idea that he thought that since the next night was the last of the tour, he had hopes of something more happening between us. I was too preoccupied to think about it further. I got ready for bed and the elusive pursuit of a good night's sleep. 

----------*----------

 

The next morning when I got up, I was filled with fear and dread. There, on the carpet in front of my door, was another plain white envelope. I sat and looked at it as if it might go away if I ignored it. I thought about getting Gareth in to open it, but then reasoned that if it made reference to my 'secret' it would be better if I opened it. So I picked it up and opened it. I read the words and this time the fear I felt was even more palpable.

'Tonight's our night for making it alright, bitch.'

I hammered on Gareth's door and he came bursting in a moment later. "What is it?" he asked. He noticed that I was only wearing a skimpy nightdress and turned away. "You're not dressed."

"I don't care about that," I said. "There's another note."

He turned back and took it from me. He sighed. "Look, whoever's doing this is trying to freak you out."

I shook my head. "I'm really scared Gareth… I think I know who it is who is sending these." 

----------*----------

 

I went through it all again after Jools and Simon arrived in my room. While waiting for them, I had taken the opportunity to pull on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans.

"You think you know who sent the notes?" Simon asked.

I nodded. "Read this one that arrived this morning." I handed it to Simon who read it and then passed it to Jools.

"I don't understand," said Simon.

Jools frowned. "The words are a bit strange, but I don't see how this tells you who sent it."

I wanted to make sure that I wasn't just being paranoid. I wanted to be sure that I hadn't made a mistake. "Call Jon to come down," I said.

"What is it?" Jools asked. "What's Jon got to do with it?"

I refused to elaborate and waited for Jon to arrive. Jools brought him up to speed about the note that arrived the previous day. I handed him the latest note and he read it. His eyes narrowed.

"Shit," he murmured under his breath as he looked back at me. "No way…"

"Do you recognise the words?" I asked him.

He nodded slowly. I knew that Jon would recognise them.

"What the hell is going on?" Jools demanded impatiently.

"Jon, tell them," I said.

Jon ran a finger around his collar and breathed out slowly. "This is a line from a song. The song is called 'Making You Mine'."

"Whose song?" Simon asked.

Jon chewed his lip. "It's by 'Stealing Time'."

His words seemed to hang there in the air as everyone digested this. I had recognised them immediately as had Jon. We were both such fans that I'd known he would make the connection.

Jools shook her head. "It could be a coincidence?"

I swallowed hard. "I wish it was, but there's something else."

"What?"

"Last night… when Aaron was in my room… when he was saying goodnight, his last words to me were 'Tomorrow night's our night'."

Simon's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "My God!"

Jools chewed her lip. "Can this be for real? How?"

Jon spoke up. "There's another line in that song…"

"Oh God, yes," I interrupted and closed my eyes. "I'd forgotten about that."

Jon continued. "It's a fairly crude song from their earlier days, but at one point it says, 'I'd love to make you my bitch'." He hesitated for a moment. "All the notes… call Cara a bitch."

Gareth was pacing up and down the room. "Right," he said firmly, "What are we going to do?"

"We have to call the police and tell them all about this," Jools said.

Gareth nodded. "It may sound like a lot of coincidence and hearsay to them."

Simon spoke up, "Perhaps, but they'll have to take it seriously. Give them the note. Maybe there will be some fingerprints on it."

I frowned. "There weren't any fingerprints on the previous notes were there?"

Jools said, "There weren't any that the U.K. police could identify. Apparently there were some incomplete prints though."

Gareth had called the police and they promised to send someone over immediately. I took Jools and Jon off to a corner of my room.

"I can't work this out," I said. "If it's Aaron, what does he want? How could he know about… me being who I am?"

They both shook their heads. We couldn't figure it out, but we had to act on what we did know. 

----------*----------

 

The police came and listened to the story. Jools spoke clearly and concisely and told them about the threats and the notes. Of course she neglected to mention the one that called me a transsexual bitch. The officers agreed that our suppositions were circumstantial, but did warrant further investigation. The difficulty was in checking the fingerprints. They telephoned the precinct and got a message back to confirm that none of the relevant databases had prints on record for Aaron. They were reluctant to arrest him on such a flimsy premise, as he was a prominent celebrity. They came up with another possibility.

That afternoon as we were doing our sound check, the officers arrived at the arena. I had been avoiding Aaron as best as I could and Jon and Gareth had been sticking to me like glue. The officers called for our attention and informed us that some sound equipment had been reported as stolen from the arena the previous night. Apparently some of it had been recovered from a pawnshop that morning. This was obviously a ruse, but who was to know any different? The police had obviously had a word with the owners of the venue so that they would play along.

The lead officer said that they had no specific suspicions, but it would be helpful and an act of good faith if the bands and crews would allow their fingerprints to be taken to see if any matched with those found on the recovered items. It sounded plausible enough and despite some low murmurings about police intrusion, everyone seemed to cooperate. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Aaron being printed. Most people were in good humour and found the whole procedure amusing. Obviously the police needed prints from Simon, Jools, Jon, Gareth and I for our prints to be eliminated as we had all handled the note.

I just wanted to get away from the venue and forget about the concert, but Jools said I had to act as normally as possible. Apparently it could take several hours for the prints to be processed and matched.  

----------*----------

 

There had still been no word back from the police, as I got ready for the evening's performance. Jools and I sat by ourselves in my dressing room. We had asked Gina to give us a few moments together.

"Cara, I've been thinking," Jools began.

"What?" I said when she stopped speaking.

She shook her head. "I don't know if I should say this, but I've been troubled all day about it. It doesn't seem to add up. How could Aaron know about you? I can't think of any possibility to explain it. So I did some lateral thinking."

"And?" I prompted.

She sighed. "OK, who else on this trip knows about you?"

I shrugged. "Just you, me and Jon."

"Who else apart from you recognised and obviously knew the song lyric on the note?"

"Jon…" I said hesitantly. "Jools, wait a minute, what are…"

"Bear with me," she said. "Who might be jealous of your association with Aaron? Who still has feelings for you, but is troubled by your… secret?"

"This is ridiculous, Jools."

"When did the first note arrive?" she asked.

I paused and replied. "When we arrived back from America in the summer."

"What happened when you were in America?"

I looked at her for a long moment. "Well I met Aaron for the first time."

She nodded. "But what else happened?"

"Yosemite," I replied softly. I thought and then shook my head. "No, I can't accept that. It's not possible."

We looked at each other for a long time without speaking. "I hope to God it's not," she eventually replied.

I felt sick. 

----------*----------

 

We were just about to leave the dressing room, as it was time to take to the stage when Simon knocked the door and came in with two of the police officers.

"What is it?" Jools asked sharply.

"Ma'am," one of the officers began, "We've processed the prints from the note and found a match."

"And?" I asked breathlessly.

"Excluding the prints from those who had handled the note in your room, we found another set of prints. These matched the prints we took from Aaron Kramer this afternoon."

"Shit," Jools hissed.

I felt a mixture of emotions. I felt fear as it was now confirmed that Aaron was behind the notes that had tormented me; I felt confusion as I still didn't understand it, but above all I felt relief as I realised that Jools' wild theory had been wrong. I also felt guilty for almost believing it.

"What are you going to do?" Jools demanded.

They shifted awkwardly. "We're going to arrest him… after tonight's performance."

"After?" Jools said with incredulity.

"Err… yes ma'am. We talked to Mr. Kramer's manager who has assured us full cooperation after the show. Mr. Kramer has not been informed and should not suspect anything."

"So you're saying tonight's show goes on as planned?" I asked with a tremulous voice.

"Yes ma'am," they confirmed.

They left the room and I looked at Simon and Jools. "I don't know if I can do this."

Jools squeezed my arm. "I know, but you have to. We'll be with you. Gareth is here too."

I sighed. "I want to get away from here right after our set. I don't want to do my backing vocal on their song and I don't want to be anywhere near… him."

Simon said, "Tell you what, how about I charter a helicopter to take you straight to our retreat lodge after your set. That way, you won't be anywhere near him at all."

I smiled gratefully. "That sounds good."

He nodded. "OK, it will be expensive, but I think I'll be able to justify the expense. There's a helipad on the roof. Let me get to it and see what I can rustle up."

He left and Jools hugged me. "You can do this. It's nearly over now." 

----------*----------

 

Despite the day's events, our performance was surprisingly good. Perhaps it was due to the amount of adrenaline pumping through my veins. To be honest, I didn't really care. I just wanted to get it over and done with. When we came off stage, Aaron was there waiting. He grinned at me and gave me a hug. I had to steel myself not to flinch. He sensed something though.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

I shrugged and forced a smile. "Just tired."

He smiled sympathetically. "See you later?"

I nodded and Gareth gently propelled me past Aaron and back to my dressing room. I got changed into a sweatshirt and jeans and waited there with Gareth and Jools. When 'Stealing Time' were on their fourth song, Simon came in and told us that the helicopter had arrived.

We went up to the roof. It was only a small helicopter. Simon apologised that it was all he could get at such short notice. There was only room for two passengers. Jools wanted to go with me, but she agreed that it made more sense if Gareth accompanied me.

As the helicopter lifted off the roof, I looked down at Jools and Simon below us and gave a wave and tried to smile bravely. I shivered and I felt Gareth put his arm around me.

"Are you OK?" he shouted.

I shrugged and nodded. I was quite happy to snuggle up against him. Although the day had been traumatic and tense, I was glad to be leaving all that trouble behind. Jools and Simon had promised to drive up to the retreat later that evening after making sure that Aaron was taken into custody. Jon and the rest of the guys had hired a car and were going to set out immediately. Our journey took about twenty minutes and thankfully the weather was good without too much wind. The resort was in the Snoqualmie Pass area. With it being a luxury resort, it had its own helipad.

We thanked the pilot and went to check in at the resort office. We got the keys for our lodge and walked to the edge of the resort park, where it was situated. Gareth opened the door and we entered. He turned the lights on and switched on the gas fire. It was a beautiful wood alpine-style lodge. It was by no means basic, though, as it was furnished luxuriously. Apparently it had five bedrooms and the adjacent lodge was booked for our party also. As the room started to warm up, I began to relax as we enjoyed a cup of tea in front of the fire. The peace was not to last.

With a loud crash, the front door burst open and two men dressed in black with ski masks over their faces rushed into the room. They had guns in their hands and in American accents told us to put our hands up. We slowly stood up. Gareth had reached down to his lower leg just before moving to stand up. A gun appeared in his hand and with a loud report, he shot one of the men in the forehead. I screamed and as Gareth lined up a shot on the second man, his target ducked down and fired at Gareth. Gareth was hit in the chest and the force of the impact threw him back to the floor. I screamed again. There had been no sound from the second shot, as the gunman must have had a silencer on his weapon.

The remaining gunman cursed and grabbed me. He forced a gloved hand over my mouth and with his other hand pulled a radio from his pocket and spoke harshly into it. "Corey's down, man, come give me a hand."

I tried to struggle and kick, but he was too strong for me. He held me firmly and a similarly dressed man came in the door panting for breath.

"I thought I heard a shot," he said.

"We've got to get out of here," the first one said. "Someone else might have heard it too."

"Shit," the new arrival said as he spotted his accomplice who was lying on the floor, his eyes wide open, obviously dead. "What do we do about Corey?" he asked.

"We have to take him with us. Pick him up and carry him out to the car."

"Aww man…"

"Just do it, we don't have much time."

I was dragged kicking and struggling to where they had a four-wheel drive utility vehicle parked. It was just down the track from our lodge. The dead man was unceremoniously dumped into the boot of the vehicle. There had been a short discussion about where to put me. Apparently the boot had been reserved for me, but they reckoned it was better to have a captive than a corpse in the back seat of the vehicle.

My hands were cuffed behind my back and they forced a rag into my mouth and tied it behind my head. They pulled one of their ski masks off and put it over my eyes so I couldn't see. I was belted into the back seat of the vehicle and they jumped in and drove off at speed. 

----------*----------

 

I could hardly believe what had happened. I couldn't see or speak as the vehicle sped along bumpy roads. We had travelled in silence for the past few hours. Initially my captors had cursed and sworn about their dead friend. They didn't say a word to me. From what I had heard, they hadn't expected Gareth to have a gun. I hadn't known that he had one. I thought about Gareth and had a sinking feeling that he was dead. I thought the bullet had struck him on the left side of his chest and he hadn't moved afterwards.

I had plenty of time to think as we journeyed on, but it didn't help. I couldn't work out who my captors were. If Aaron had been on stage playing, who were these guys? One thing I knew was fear. Until now, fear had been an ethereal vague sensation of worry about something that might never happen. The real thing was different. I had never really experienced it before, except perhaps for when I sat in the hospital waiting for news about my mother. Initially fear can be paralysing and that had been how it affected me back at the lodge. As I sat in the back of that vehicle, it was strangely numbing. I couldn't do anything about my situation and I knew things were bad, yet I had a strange clarity of thought.

My mind turned to trying to put the pieces together. If it hadn't been Aaron who had been stalking me with those notes, who could it have been? Who knew about the resort we were heading to? Who knew that I was going to be there sooner than the others? Who knew about all the other things needed to write those notes? My mind turned back to my discussion with Jools earlier that evening. Jon? It was ridiculous. Although he was an answer to all the questions I had just asked myself, I couldn't believe it. I gave up and realised that I was going to have to wait to see what happened.

I was not sure how much time had passed, but it felt like several hours. The roads had got worse over the past hour or so and the vehicle had slowed in speed. Eventually we came to a halt and my captors got out. They pulled me from the car and took the mask off. I looked around and blinked in the darkness. I saw a wooden building surrounded by snow-covered trees and a frozen dirt track leading back in the direction we had obviously come from. It was the only way in and out that I could see. I was roughly dragged towards the building and brought inside.

There were another two men there. None of them wore masks now and they didn't seem to be afraid of letting me see their faces. This scared me. They were fairly average in most respects. Strong, well built, some of them with scars. The sort of men who looked like they were very familiar with trouble.

"Where's Corey?" one of the men in the cabin asked.

"Dead," replied the man who had shot Gareth. "Bodyguard iced him. Between the eyes."

"Shit," the first man cursed. "What did you do, Joe?"

"I killed him," he replied. I shivered.

The attention turned to me. Joe, the man who had dragged me in seemed to be in charge. "She's a pretty one, isn't she?"

"That's what the boss said," added another. "I wouldn't mind getting a piece…"

Joe shook his head. "Remember what he said. No one is to touch her…" he grinned, "…for now." He removed my gag and I spat to clear the taste of the cloth from my mouth.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked with a bravado that I didn't feel inside.

They just laughed at me. "Don't worry your pretty little head about that, sweetheart."

I was taken into another room that contained nothing but a wooden chair. One of them undid my cuffs, but only for a moment. He made me sit on the chair and cuffed my hands around the back of the chair, feeding them through the woodwork so I was chained to the chair.

"What do you want with me?" I screamed.

They laughed again. "All in good time," Joe said as they left and closed the door. 

----------*----------

 

I'm not sure how long I was left sitting in the chair. As uncomfortable as it was and despite my fear, tiredness must have overcome me. I had nodded off and was woken by the creaking of the door. I looked up and blinked. My heart leapt within me when I saw who it was.

"Simon, oh thank God. Quick, you've got to help me before they find you."

He shut the door and leaned up against it. His lips twisted into a sardonic smile and he laughed a nasty laugh. My mind caught up with me and I realised that Simon would have had no valid way of knowing where I was. His next words chilled me to the core of my being:

"Oh you really are the silly little bitch, aren't you… Nick?"

  

To be concluded next time…

  

[ Author's note: If you are so kind to take the time to leave a comment, could I request that you try not to give away the major spoiler that has hopefully just caused your jaw to drop.]

  

  

  

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