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“Are you sure this doctor we’re going to see is the right choice?” Ginny asked Spook as they headed towards Stockholm. Most of the lengthy cruise along the motorway after they’d swapped the motorboat for a car in Mariefred had been conducted in silence, or to a background of white noise from the badly tuned radio. So far, Ash had been stoic about the appointment, but his quietness concerned her. It almost certainly meant he was fretting, though whether that was over his health or his inability to play guitar wasn’t so clear, but then one rather played into the other. The fact was, Black Halo were looking shaky, both internally, and to their fans, who’d been disappointed by them pushing back their tour dates, and nor had they been helped by some biased and highly inaccurate news coverage of the events leading up to Ash’s nosedive.

No, for heaven’s sake, he wasn’t a druggie!

Frankly, the only way for Black Halo to emerge from this was with a kick-ass next album. And for that, they needed their kick-ass guitarist to be able to play. If he couldn’t, it would likely be game over.

“Dr. Noren is the best option inside Sweden. If you want someone better, it would involve flying further afield, and I’m not sure how desperate our guy is to travel.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ash mumbled, not even bothering to turn his head away from the window. “This is bad enough. I’m not doing a tour of medical practitioners. They all say the same crap regardless of where you go.”

“You have such a healthy respect for the people who saved your butt,” Spook remarked.

Ash grunted. “Yeah, well they seem to create as many problems as they fix.”

The professionals had been nothing but excellent during Ash’s recent hospital stay, so she attributed his moaning to some old wound. She was sorry whatever past experience he’d received had left him with such a negative attitude. Though positivity and belief in those working to help you went a long way to aiding recovery after injury, being dour about the situation would only make it harder for him to crawl his way back to genuine fitness again.

“What’s up, Ginny?” Ash asked a few moments later, staring pointedly at her. “Is his driving terrifying?”

“Eh?” She did a double take at the driver to make sure it was Spook in the hot seat and he hadn’t magically been replaced with Rock Giant. “No. I’m fine.”

“Then what’s with the death grip?” He bowed his head towards her phone.

Okay, yes, admittedly her phone was welded to her palm at the moment, and her fingertips were bleached white from the firmness of her hold, but that wasn’t down to Spook’s driving. Ever since the phone call earlier had confirmed that Operation Ann was officially underway, she’d been anticipating fireworks.

They wouldn’t come today, she knew that. Things took time. Any drama was likely weeks away, but that did little to ease her nervousness over what was potentially ahead. People could be downright vindictive, and this was the kind of situation that brought out the worst in people. Still, it wasn’t so much herself she feared for, but the potential for causing Ash pain. Rumours were spread all too easily, and then before you knew it, your little private matter was a focus piece on the nightly news, and her boyfriend and his already struggling band were embroiled in yet another drama.

“Are you expecting another call?”

Ginny shook her head at him. Expecting and anticipating were two different things.

“Do you want me to put that in my jacket pocket for you?” He held out his hand for her to pass over the phone.

“No, it’s fine, I have my bag.” She took the hint, and stowed the phone in the black depths of her patchwork knapsack.

“Good call, Ginny,” Spook said from the driver’s seat. She could see the reflection of his eyes in the rear view mirror. “He’d only have lost it for you. There’s a reason why he’s only allowed shitty phones, and that no one trusts him with their numbers.”

“Hey, I haven’t lost a phone in months…over a year, actually.”

“Gin, how many have you lost?”

“Ever? None.”

“Yeah, me neither. What’s your current count, Ash, about seven?”

“Aw, shut up.”

Ash turned away huffily from them, and they fell quiet again. Spook tuned in to the local traffic update. “Sounds as if a minor detour is in order, hopefully we won’t end up in a traffic snarl and miss your appointment.”

Ash gave a voluble sniff. “Since this is likely pointless anyway, I don’t see it’ll make much difference.”

Ginny poked him. “You don’t know that.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I do.”

“Well, I’m glad you could understand that so there’s a chance that we will make the appointment.” She’d been nothing but grateful to Spook and his language skills since the night of the incident. Having a native speaker made communicating with the hospital staff and police much easier, even though they all spoke perfectly passable English. “And I’m sure this doctor is going to have some useful suggestions for you. She’s a specialist. I’m certain she knows her stuff.”

Ash gave another teenager-like grunt, shut his eyes and feigned sleep. She really hoped he wasn’t going to take this attitude into the appointment.

“Batman Lego,” she suggested a couple of minutes later, her mind having turned to ways to help him with his motor skills without him griping over things being primary coloured.

“Do you want to qualify that remark?” Spook asked, laughing at her sudden exclamation.

“Sorry. It was something one of the physiotherapists in Karlstad recommended for exercising his fingers, but Ash is only prepared to consider it if the pieces are as gothic as he is.”

“I can think of more interesting work outs for my fingers,” Ash sighed without opening his eyes.

Ginny ignored his innuendo. Much as she enjoyed being the centre of his universe, he really needed to take the idea of doing some finger exercises more seriously. “I’ve been thinking about the jigsaw idea too. I’m sure there are plenty of puzzles with patterns more to your tastes, and you could easily have a custom one made from a photograph. You could create a Black Halo jigsaw.”

This time he full-on groaned. “Have you been talking to Sally? That’s the sort of crazy idea she comes out with. No one wants to spend their time piecing us together.”

She saw Spook raise his eyebrows, but he kept whatever he was thinking to himself. Actually, there was probably a market for exactly that. Super fan Dani Fosbrook would definitely have purchased such a thing. Ginny had a couple of other marketing ideas tucked in her head too. She’d been kind of avoiding that Sally woman so far, owing to the incident with her laminate being stolen on a certain night at a certain gig where she might just have gate-crashed a certain dressing room, but maybe they could get past that in the interests of rampant consumerism.

“What about a picture of Ginny?” Spook suggested.

Ash actually perked up. His eyes opened, and he looked her over in a decidedly lecherous way. “Naked,” he mouthed. “Now we’re talking.”

“Who would even print it?”

“Specialist print shops,” Spook asserted.

Damn, he wasn’t helping, but he was making Ash cackle, so that was good.

“But then if you’re genuinely thinking of going the custom route, you might want to consider something more interesting than a straightforward nude.”

“Oh, I don’t know, having a reason to get Ric to photograph her sounds pretty good.”

She knew Ric was Xane’s cousin, and was a highly successful and respected photographer. He was also responsible for the legendary photobook of the band that the record company had censored.

“What are you suggesting?”

“A vulva puzzle.”

“A what?” Ash barked, sitting forward in his seat so that his folded arms rested against the headrest of the passenger seat.

“That is not even a thing,” Ginny protested. “No way.”

“You two must have heard of that artist, the one who gets women to send pubic hair and incorporates them into paintings of—”

“—their private bits. Yeah, I’m aware.” Ash said. “Not seeing how that translates to jigsaws.”

“I happened across someone else who’s using 3D printing to create… You know what, never mind. You’re never going to sit still and do a jigsaw puzzle anyway, and if you got one like that, the guys would be lining up to help, so you’d not get any benefit.”

“I’m not sure I like the idea of them fingering my girlfriend’s snatch,” Ash muttered.

Ginny dug an elbow into his ribs. “You’re assuming I’d even agree to you having such a thing created.”

“You would.” He slid an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tight. “Especially if it could help fix me.”

Damn, he had her there. “How about we see what this doctor says first, eh? She might have some other ideas about what the best course of action is.”

Ash rolled his eyes. He spent the rest of the journey snoring quietly against her shoulder. It wasn’t until they pulled up in the car park of the neurologists consulting rooms that he spoke to her again, and then it was only to say he didn’t want her to come in with him. “I’m only taking Spook with me in case he needs to translate.”

Fair enough, he was a grown man. He didn’t need to hold her hand while he saw the doctor, but they’d come a hell of a long way for her to now sit in the car.

“I don’t think you need to take it personally.” Spook leaned back into the vehicle once Ash had exited in order to hand her the car keys, presumably in case she wanted to stretch her legs. Ash had already tromped off towards the centre’s main entrance without so much as a backward glance, let alone a kiss goodbye. He was in a sodding weird mood. All innuendo and sex talk one minute, and the next moody as fuck. “He’s shit scared,” Spook remarked, as if he’d heard her thoughts. “Unknowns make him pissy, and he knows exactly how precarious the situation with the band is, no matter how much we’re all putting a brave face on it.”

“You can all get through this,” she caught hold of his hand and squeezed it. Spook smiled at her in a sad way that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hopefully, if we tackle one thing at a time.”

“Are you coming, or are you too busy chatting up my girlfriend?” Ash hollered.

“We’re talking about you, imbecile,” Spook shouted back. “Back in a bit.” He patted Ginny’s hand. “I’m not sure how long this is going to take. If he’s this pissy with the doc, probably not as long as either of us would like.”

Ginny watched Spook stalk across the car park to join Ash by the entrance. It was too normal an environment for either of them. It didn’t matter how hard they tried to dress down and blend in, there was something about them that always screamed rock star. Once they’d entered the building, Ginny retrieved her mobile phone from her knapsack and stared at the screen. No missed calls, or messages. Not that she’d expected any. “You’re an idiot,” she told herself, tapping the device to her forehead. She ought to have dealt with this mess three years back instead of putting it off for the future. Now it was a far greater deal than it needed to be. She crossed her fingers, and mumbled a prayer to whichever gods were listening. Please let it go smoothly. Please make it happen fast. And please don’t let Ash find out. She would tell him, but in her own time and in her own way, when the time was right. Currently, he had enough worries of his own without having to deal with her shit too. Later though…at some point in the future, then of course, she’d tell him everything.