Six months later
Another day, another city, another strange bathroom. Jane exited the ladies dabbing at her brow. Milan was unbearably hot today and the sticky heat was really taking its toll on her. In addition, the seafood they’d had for dinner the previous evening hadn’t agreed with her. She had vomited three times since breakfast and this afternoon she was sporting a prickly rash between her breasts. One look in the mirror told her she was looking far from fabulous.
She didn’t know how Silas and the rest of Wild Dogz did it, this constant uprooting from one place to another. The longest they ever stayed anywhere was three or four nights, when they did a series of gigs in one venue. That at least gave them a little down time. Most weeks they were playing four or five different cities, and now because of the size of the arenas they needed to use, those cities could be pretty far flung. Jane seemed to spend most of her life when travelling with the band, either in a coach or on a plane, and it was beginning to take its toll.
The assorted hangers on that travelled with the group could cause strain too. Some of the women were bratty, many of the men were loud. There was free access to all kinds of drugs, and plenty of hedonism. None of this was to Jane’s taste. She spent much of her time hanging out with Bobo’s wife Mel, or she stood in the wings and watched the show. When she needed to be at Silas’s side, she made the effort. Otherwise she waited patiently and quietly, well out of the spotlight.
And then there was Monty. The little girl groupie that Jane had first met seven years previously had grown up. Jane had no idea how Monty managed it financially, but she was always around. These days she sported hair extensions, fake nails and fake boobs. She wore the correct heavy metal denim and leather wardrobe, teaming it up with Chanel and Balenciaga. Stunning to look at, she was the most poisonous woman Jane had ever known, constantly bitching about the other women on the scene or inveigling herself with record company execs, or other rock stars who came backstage to meet the boys. To be fair, Monty was discriminatory, she only slept with the millionaires.
Every time Jane left Silas to return to her real life in Bristol, she worried about him. She and Silas had continued to see each other at weekends, as and when he was close enough to fly to. She’d travelled to Reykjavik, Paris, Dublin, Malmo, Copenhagen, Antwerp and Budapest in the last two months alone, and during leave from work she had managed a week in the USA for the first time, which had been a treat, and Russia which had been an eye-opener. Now here she was in beautiful Italy during her summer break, and they would be travelling on to Spain and Portugal before heading back to the States for a much needed break.
And this time, when Wild Dogz headed to the USA, Jane was going with Silas. Permanently.
She had handed her notice in at school, and intended to rent out her little terraced house in Bristol. Eventually, if everything worked out well between them, she would sell it. She had a few reservations, of course she did, she was only human. She wasn’t sure the constant touring would suit her, and yet the idea of being alone in a big house in the USA somewhere, waiting for her man to come home to her, didn’t appeal either. In the UK she had a career and felt useful. She was too young to become a fully-paid up member of the ladies-who-lunch-and-drink-latte club.
She made her way back to Silas’s dressing room. Gone were the days when Wild Dogz would hang out together in the Green room. Nowadays Silas preferred to spend time alone in the run up to the show. He figured the group saw enough of each other while they were travelling. She poked her head around the door and watched him for a bit, his head down, bent over his guitar, picking out a new tune, an open bottle of Jack Daniels close to his right hand.
Jane was alarmed to see how much of the bottle had already been consumed. It was only 7 pm. He wouldn’t be on stage for over two hours.
“You should go steady with that,” she said gently, walking towards him to take the bottle away.
He looked up, annoyed at the interruption, and snatched at the bottle before she could reach it.
Jane pulled a face and held her hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, hot shot. I just don’t want you to get so bladdered you can’t make it out on to the stage.”
“I won’t be bladdered,” he mimicked her English accent, “it helps takes the edge off, is all.”
“Takes the edge off? You’ve never suffered with stage fright,” Jane said, perplexed.
“Well I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
Jane puffed he cheeks out and considered her lover. Why was he being so short with her? His face seemed pale, shadows under his eyes, definitely in need of a break and a little tender loving care. Well, the latter she could do for him. She moved behind him, intending to massage his neck and shoulders and loosen him up a little, but he shook her off.
“Sorry,” she said, hurt at his curt dismissal, although determined to get through to him somehow. “What’s up, baby?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I’m a little tense is all.” He sighed and looked up at her, seeming to notice her for the first time. “You look rough.”
“I feel a bit dodgy. My stomach’s off.”
“Something you ate?”
“Maybe the food I had in the restaurant last night.”
“You look a little green around the gills, that’s for sure. Maybe you should head back to the hotel,” Silas suggested helpfully.
Jane considered him for a moment. “Are you sure? You don’t want me here?”
Silas shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.”
“Try not to be too late, you look totally beat.” Jane bent down and kissed him, unaware that it would be the last time she would ever do that.