“Thanks, Nan,” Alex said.
“Are there fairy cakes?” Jase asked.
She ruffled his hair like he was still a child, but there was something so reassuringly comforting about it, he didn’t mind. “Yes, my little cherub. There are fairy cakes. There’s half a dozen for each of you with your initials on them. Pat took some over to Ben, and I gave Izabel some for Matt and Luke.”
“You’re too good to us, Nan,” Jase said, the words muffled by the amount of bacon in his mouth.
“That I am. Now get some rest.” She kissed each of them on the top of their heads and went on her way.
Jase popped the last bite in his mouth. “What’s your plan for today?”
Alex slurped his tea. “Sleep. Laundry. Will probably pop to Mum’s to do it. I want to see how she’s doing.”
“Same. Might unpack and shove a load in the washer before I crawl into bed for a few hours.”
Alex stood and grabbed the plates. “If you want to go make a start on that, I’ll clean up.”
Jase lugged his case upstairs and into his room. Closing the door behind him, he wondered what Cerys would think of the space.
“She’d probably think it’s a shit tip,” he muttered, suddenly appalled at his lack of tidiness. The dust on the shelf reminded him cleanliness was an issue too. Fuck it. He’d unpack, get some sleep then bundle everything into bags and drag it to the laundrette. Do a bunch of loads at once, including his bedding.
He threw his case onto the bed and began to pull things out, putting them into piles. Dark load. White load. Hot wash. Cold wash. He pulled out a hoodie but felt something hard inside it. Unravelling it, he found a frame and an envelope. In the frame was a photograph. He remembered the moment Cerys had taken it. The laughing fit they’d had when Jase removed the croissant from his arse cheek after they’d made love on the picnic blanket. Her face still had that just fucked flush, his hair was lying in every direction. But it didn’t matter. Because they were both so fucking happy.
It felt as though a fist squeezed his heart. Suddenly, unpacking was no longer his priority. Curling up in bed with whatever was in the envelope was incrementally more important.
He tugged the case off the bed, pulled off his trainers and joggers, and climbed under the sheets. Once settled, he ripped open the envelope.
Dear Jase,
This morning, in bed, you told me I’d changed you for the better. But what I didn’t get to tell you (because Little Jase got involved in the conversation), is that you changed me too.
I’ve been a rule follower. I’ve always felt a need to excel, to prove something to some invisible ghost, that I’m capable of being perfect. I realise now that was living in the shadow of a successful dad who hadn’t shown any signs of wanting me. But with you, I’ve broken the rules I set for myself. It’s been liberating. To work with you. To record with you. To play with you. You don’t care about timing and scores. You feel it, experience music, free from traditional rules.
But more importantly, being with you has been more than I could have expected. Making love with you. Simply spending time with you. I’m going to miss you more than I thought was possible. The idea that when you read this, you’ll be thousands of miles away, sucks. The way I cope is by putting a positive spin on things. That I get to stay here and work on your record until it is perfect. That I’ll have the chance to spend a month learning from Dad now that he and I seem to have found a better footing. But don’t for a second mistake the sunshine for not desperately wishing you still were here.
Sleep well. Rest well. Miss me.
Love, Cerys.
Jase sighed and held the letter to his chest, with thoughts of what she meant by Love, Cerys floating around in his mind as he fell to sleep.
17
“Well, this feels different,” Matt said, strumming his acoustic guitar as the two of them sat in the backstage area of the Hammersmith Odeon. Sure, it currently had some sponsorship name on the building that had hosted everyone from Bowie, The Beatles, and the Stones to Duke Ellington and Ella Fitzgerald, but it was still known as the Odeon.
“What does?” Jase fiddled with the strap of a black and silver bracelet Cerys had sent him.
“Playing a gig like this. Last minute tickets sales of five thousand tickets that sold out in a heartbeat. Just because Jimmy knows the owner.”
“I think he was smart to tell us not to play all new stuff. He wants to do the big reveal with us for the studio when he and Cerys have finished up working on it. Apart from the few songs we reworked and played in Detroit, which I’m sure the execs saw online.”
“Have you heard any of it?”
Jase shook his head. “A bit. Cerys was working on it when I called her one day, and she played me a couple of tracks. Sounds really fucking slick.”
“Do you wonder when it will really hit us? This. The deal. The album. I feel like we’ve not had time to get our arms around it, because it’s onto the next thing. The release, the marketing, the appearance calendar filling up with mostly personal appearances rather than gigs. And Simon is working on sponsorships for our equipment.”
“I sometimes feel like it’s happening to someone else. I mean, just this, not having to haul our own equipment. Like, to walk off that stage tonight and just go back to the hotel because someone else is stripping down and packing up our kit feels weird. I don’t even know where my mic is right now.” A new Shure mic because that’s the one Cerys had said he sounded best with.
“Yeah. I don’t miss all the logistics of it. Knowing I can go to the hotel and relax instead of worrying about equipment, and where the van is, and which cheap hotel we were staying at.”
Jase looked around to where Ben and Alex were talking to a set of twins and smiled. Once upon a time, he’d have challenged Alex to a bet. First to make out, first to a blow job. Bonus points for a full night.
Now, he just wished Cerys were here to see it.
Luke had disappeared, and Jase had a feeling he knew what he was doing. Drugs, somewhere. Making out with someone. Knocking back vodka like it was water.
Since he’d got back from America, Jase’d not smoked or hit anything harder than a beer. The attraction just wasn’t there. Or maybe it was that he didn’t need liquid or powder courage to face life head on. A woman had approached him earlier, the kind of woman he’d once gone for. Hot and easy. But he’d been polite, told her that he wasn’t interested, and walked away.
Because the only woman he wanted wasn’t with him tonight. He grabbed his phone and pulled up the ongoing chat he had with Cerys.
Just thinking about how much I wish you were here with me tonight.
When the little dots at the bottom of the text bounced, his stomach flipped.
A photograph appeared, obviously taken secretly. Jimmy’s back. And a new band sitting on the studio stage with the same look he and his band had on their first day.
Newbies. No idea what’s about to happen to them. She included a crying laughing emoji.
Stay away from the lead singer, no matter how troubled he might be.
I can only handle one lead singer at a time, and there’s already one I have my eye on.
Good. I miss you, sunshine.
Miss you too. Gotta go. Sorry. Chat later. Smooches.