Chapter Twenty-Five

The next day began with a new set of exercises. Dax was resting well, sleeping like a baby at night, and eating delicious food that Cameron prepared him. The eggs were freshly-laid, the bacon and butter came straight from the farm, and the freezer was even stocked with tender lamb steaks and chops. Dax didn’t like to think too much about the relation between the cute, bouncing babies in the fields outside his bedroom window and the meat in the freezer, especially when it tasted so good.

Cameron was a firm believer in the right diet aiding in recovery. He didn’t care for expensive vitamin shakes or even pills, except for the ones Dax took when the pain became too intense. Instead, he cooked three times a day, and in between meals he often handed Dax a handful of nuts or a glass of fresh juice. It wasn’t just the exercises that constituted therapy; every day that went by, Dax was looking after his mental health, as well as his physical body. Away from the noise and chaos of his life as an international superstar, he was rediscovering the things that were important to him.

The new exercises had him standing at the bars in the gym, one hand holding on like a ballerina. He was to walk ten paces, then lift one leg up off the floor for five seconds. Then he was to walk backward ten paces, and do the same. When Cameron explained what he wanted him to do, Dax pulled a face. “Walking backward and forward? What is this, a sobriety test?”

“Think of it as your brain and your spinal cord have had a massive argument,” said Cameron. “They don’t want to talk to each other right now, but they have to. They’re stubborn, and they don’t want to communicate. But we know that getting them talking is a good thing. It benefits the whole body. So, we’re reminding them how to work together, the way they used to. So, your spine has to be coaxed by your brain to remember how to walk, and how to balance. We’ve put one foot in front of the other, but we haven’t gone backward yet.”

Dax shouldn’t have been surprised by Cameron’s tendency to be right in everything when it came to his therapy. But while he walked the ten paces with relative ease, when it came to lifting his leg, his whole body seemed to collapse in confusion. He knew he could balance on one foot perfectly before the accident. He’d done it plenty of times, whether it was when he learned a new dance routine, or played with his friends as a kid, or reached for something on a high shelf. So, when he tried it now and felt himself fall, his first reaction was to be baffled.

Cameron was there in a shot, holding him up before he ended up on the floor. “You’re okay,” he said. “I won’t let you fall.”

Trusting him once more, Dax allowed Cameron to take his weight and get him back up on both feet. This time, when he lifted his leg, he was better prepared, and managed to balance well enough to stand for several seconds on just one leg. Then he repeated the action on the other foot. The muscle memory kicked in, and he felt the fog between head and legs beginning to clear, just a little.

Walking backward was difficult, too, but this also became easier the more he practiced. He found that with every new challenge, an older one he’d previously thought difficult now came easy. Standing on one leg had been impossible at first, but once walking backward was introduced, then the balancing seemed simple. Dax found that previously challenging tasks, like putting on shoes, was getting easier.

He took a bath before they went out that evening to the pub quiz. Dax had never been to one before, and he worried about how little he’d know and how much he’d be able to contribute, but he didn’t mention anything to Cameron. “This’ll be the first time I’ve been in a bar in ages,” Dax said, as they ate dinner that evening. “I don’t even remember the last time. Every time we go to a club, we hire the space out, so it never feels like we’re really part of anything.”

“Do you miss it?”

“What, clubbing?”

“No, not just clubbing. The lifestyle. You know, partying all night, being recognized everywhere you go, having servants at your beck and call all day long.”

Dax laughed. “It’s not exactly like that,” he said. “Sure, there’s plenty of partying, but more often than not you’re there to promote something or someone. If a DJ has a new set and they want to advertise it, they get me to come be the face of it for the evening, whether I like the music or not. So much of the life is about trading favors between managers. There are some things I miss, I guess.”

“Like?”

Dax thought about it. “Pizza,” he said, at last. “Really good pizza. Proper New York stuff. Nothing gourmet, nothing fancy. Just an original cheese and pepperoni. Damn, they’re good.”

“What else?”

“Beer.”

Now it was Cameron’s time to laugh. “We have beer.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’ve been off it for so long, being on the pills.”

“If you wanted a drink tonight, it won’t do you any harm. You’re not on the medication in the afternoon or evenings, so I can’t see how one or two beers is going to be a bad thing. Unless you don’t feel you can stop there.”

“No, I can,” Dax said. “I used to drink to just get a buzz, to distract myself from the stress, but now I don’t feel stressed anymore. Not at the moment, anyway. I know it won’t last forever.”

“You’ve got a choice in your life every single day,” Cameron said, and he took their empty plates from the dining table into the kitchen. Dax stood up carefully and walked slowly in to join him. Cameron often did this; he left the room and continued to talk so that Dax would have to physically rise and move with him. It was all exercise, only in a less formal arrangement, so that it felt less like work to Dax.

“If you never want to go back to singing, and selling out stadiums, then you don’t have to. But if it’s something you want to do, then do it. Just do the things that are right for you, and don’t worry so much about what other people want from you.”

“Grant must be pulling his hair out right about now,” Dax mused. “I still haven’t called him.”

“Well, Doctor Pravenda’s been checking in with me every few days, so I’m sure word’s been getting back to him,” Cameron said. “I wouldn’t worry too much about him, though. If he’s ever going to get his little moneymaker back, then he needs him back in one piece, raring to go again.”

Dax leaned against the counter for support while Cameron washed the dishes in the sink. “That’s all I am to him, isn’t it?” he mused. “Just a moneymaker. He hasn’t got a single clue about anything I care about. Anything that matters to me.”

“Well, I guess it’s a pretty pessimistic way to look at things, but yeah, people like that are out for everything they can get from a person. I hated him the second I looked at his bloated red face.”

“I’ve known him for so long that I thought he must know me, too. But really, neither of us knows anything about the other. It’s all so cold and… necessary.”

“Necessary?”

“Ah, you know what? Forget it.” Dax forced a smile. “I’m killing the mood, here.”

“No, you’re not,” Cameron said. “Keep talking. What’s necessary.”

“All the relationships I have with everyone. You know, family aside, everything in my life’s a business. Or it’s part of the whole business. My name, my colleagues, even my friends. They wouldn’t be there if I weren’t part of this huge brand. And I guess that along the way the two worlds have merged so completely that now I don’t even know what I am anymore. That’s what I mean by necessary. Every new contact I make, they’re there to serve a purpose for the brand. They’re not there for me.”

Cameron wiped his hands on a dishtowel and took a deep breath. “You know, that might be true about everyone else. But it’s not true about me. You know that, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if I were only interested in getting you well and packing you off to your next concert, then I’d have said that flying back to New York would have been a perfectly good option. They’d help you walk again. They’d certainly have better facilities than I have here. At least you wouldn’t have to wait two hours every morning for a hot bath.”

Dax grinned. “Getting used to baths in this place hasn’t been easy, I’ll admit.”

“But none of the physical side would matter at all unless it’s all good up here.” Cameron tapped his temple. “I want to see you do well mentally, as well as physically. It’s not just your back that’s been broken.”

They were words that made sense, but they brought up something in Dax he didn’t want to deal with. A feeling that he needed to push down, because he didn’t like where it was going. He shrugged and laughed off Cameron’s words. “Ah, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” he said. “I hope Grant’s sorted out paying you.”

Cameron said nothing for a second, and he seemed to be choosing every word carefully. “To a lot of people, you’re more than just a face that sells records,” he said. “And once that sinks in, you’ll be amazed at how much better you feel about yourself.”

He walked toward Dax slowly, and put his hands in his pockets. The evening sun was coming through the window, hitting his red hair, so that it looked golden in the light. Dax could only stare at him. “You’ve no idea how much people love you,” he said. “People who aren’t just trying to get something out of you. But you don’t love yourself, so you can’t see it.”

Dax looked at him suspiciously. “Have you been talking to Pravenda about this?” he asked.

“No, not at all,” Cameron replied. “But I’m guessing that she’s said the same to you, right? I can’t blame her. So much of your recovery is wrapped up in feeling positive about yourself, and your future. If you think you’re just going to go back to the life you had before, and it’s not a life you want, then your recovery will take longer. But if you have something to strive for, a goal to achieve, something to be proud of, then it’ll give you even more of a push.”

“Am I not progressing as well as I should?”

“You’re doing great,” Cameron said softly. “But I don’t want you to get well, just for you to be thrown back into the lion’s den. Having everyone scrutinizing every little thing about your life. The night of your accident, it could all have ended so differently. You’ve been given another chance, so make sure that you’re only doing things you want to do. Making yourself happy. Surrounding yourself with people who care.”

Dax was beginning to feel the conversation was too heavy. He knew that what Cameron was saying made sense, only he wasn’t sure he could bear to take it all in at that moment. “Got it,” he said. “Anyway, shouldn’t we be leaving for the bar by now?”

“It’s a pub,” Cameron corrected.

“Is there a difference?”

“Definitely,” said Cameron. “In New York, you drink in a bar. In Invergordon, you sup ale in a pub.”

“I what?”

But Cameron only laughed and shook his head.