Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
CALLA
The town is full of visitors. Some eat fish and chips while taking a walk along the sea-front; couples on the beach huddle together watching the sunset and bars fill up to capacity.
There’s a party atmosphere, confirming why summer in Braebeach is my favourite season.
I’m especially looking forward to the festival this year; it’s one of the main reasons I decided to come home this summer.
It’s been a while and I’ve missed all the excitement and build up.
Every restaurant is packed solid, but the boys have already secured a cordoned off area at The Black Pearl.
It’s one of the most popular places to eat in the area, famous for its variety of fish, it’s always booked up weeks in advance.
Each table is simply decorated with blue chequered tablecloths, candles and cutlery.
There’s a wide veranda packed with more tables, which is where we find the rest of the band members plus a few surprise guests.
There’s a long table for ten or twelve where Max, Brett and a couple of giggling girls are already seated.
The others are chatting next to them. An older guy dressed in white jeans, pink shirt, with mousey greying looking hair waves in our direction and as we get there, he stands to greet us.
“Bernie, I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine, Cal,” Ashton indicates with an open hand.
“Nice to meet you,” he bobs his head then takes my hand.
“Hi,” I answer, feeling all kinds of sweaty because the man in front of me is a living legend.
Bernie Hill owns an independent record label, Election Records, and is formally of the rock duo, Dunbar is it with who I think it is?” I ask, directing my question to Ashton.
“If you’re thinking of Bernie, then yeah. He owns Election Records,” Ashton answers.
“I know!” I almost squeal, again, making a complete tit of myself.
Ash laughs, “We’re still negotiating, but just for the record, I’m happy getting changed in the bogs.” I press my lips together, trying not to laugh. “Come on, sit down. I’m starving,” his low tone and mouth just catching my ear, sending good shivers down my spine.
I manage to bag a seat in between Ashton and Brett. Tommy and Angie sit opposite while Dani and Bernie are on either side.
“You could have warned me,” I say to Ashton from the corner of my mouth.
“About?”
“Meeting Bernie. He’s kind of a hero of mine.”
“Yeah? I didn’t know you were so into music.”
“It’s my grandad’s fault. He was a massive Dunbar & Hill fan, played them all the time, so it was natural for me to get a taste for their music too.”
“I wish I’d known before. I would have enjoyed watching you fangirl a little more. It was fun to watch,” Ash smirks.
“For you, maybe. I’m so embarrassed now.”
“Hey, Bernie’s a real solid guy. I doubt he even noticed.” His smile is infectious and mesmerising all at the same time. When his arm slides around my bare shoulder, the unexpected contact of his hand briefly skimming my skin, causes it to flame under his slight touch.
“You-you’re just saying that.” I finally manage, looking away briefly. I need to take a moment while I pull myself together. It’s ridiculous how his small gesture of friendliness could make me so giddy.
I glance over to Bernie, deciding to focus on him while I can. After all, I’m in the presence of greatness here, and I might never get the chance to be this close to him again.
Our seafood dinner is gorgeous, the company a lot easier going than I first thought. Dani has an incredibly unique sense of confidence and an aura I can’t explain. She holds you captive when she speaks, which is an impressive quality I wish I had.
I’m fascinated by listening to Bernie and Dani talk business. Bernie asks her opinions on ideas for the band and how she would improve the set, but I get the feeling he’s teaching her too. I hear him ask, “What were your thoughts on the orchestra backing?”
“Difficult one,” she answers. “We’ve got to consider fan-base age.”
“How old is she exactly?” I whisper to Ashton.
“Dani? Not sure. A bit older than us, late twenties?” he whispers back, shocking me if I’m honest. Maybe it was the power-suits which initially give me the impression she was much older.
Now I look harder, Dani’s pretty face, long bouncy brown hair and stunning brown eyes show a softer side.
She could almost be the same age as me and I’ll be twenty-two at the end of the year.
Still, I listen to what she has to say with interest.
“Strings give it a classic sound, appealing to a wider audience. The younger ones will go with anything they put out. It’s a win, win.”
“Are you saying yes to the orchestra?”
“Well yeah, Dad.” She laughs, revealing Bernie’s daughter and not Dani, the businesswomen. Her mask has disappeared briefly.
“You know what, I think we need a broader opinion on this one,” Bernie says, re-directing his question. “Thoughts Ash, as it’s your music we’re talking about.”
“It depends on the song. You can ruin a melody if you over-complicate it.”
“Okay, so here’s the thing.” Bernie shuffles forward in his seat. “I have one of your ballads in mind, which I’m sure could become a classic with the right production behind it, i.e., me,” he smiles. “So, the idea of a full orchestra could be the ingredient we’re missing, don’t you think Calla?”
Oh shit. Is Bernie Hill asking me? Miss Nobody?
“What do I think?” I ask, pointing my finger to my chest in shock.
I was enjoying the closeness of Ash’s body to mine while being in complete awe of Bernie’s musical knowledge.
Never did I think my opinion would be requested.
“Surely this is something you should discuss with the band.” My wide eyes face Ash’s smiling face.
“Obviously but play along with me here. If you were me, what would you do.”
“Okaaay.” I clear my throat, playing for time. “Well, for one, an orchestra will always sound amazing as a backing track.”
“Go on,” Bernie says, an intense expression on his face, but Dani takes the chance to butt in when she leans across the table. “As long as they carry on looking this hot, they could release a nursery rhyme and get away with it. Trust me Dad, the majority of their fans won’t give a toss.”
He glances over his shoulder, “I wasn’t asking you, know it all.” Then he looks back to me. “Carry on Calla. If you were at one of their concerts, in the audience, what would you like to see or hear?”
“Um, oh okay… umm, speaking from my point of view, which is probably the band's ideal target market, I disagree with Dani. I would give a toss… actually.” I’ve already caught Dani’s disgruntled face staring at me, but it doesn’t stop me being honest. I would never lie just to become a people pleaser.
“Also, for me, music is the most important part, not how the band look.”
“Good,” Bernie says as if he’s actually assessing my answer.
“The elements Calla has described is the exact demographic you should aim at. I want women to desire you and know every word to your songs while their other halves want to be your best mates and worship your music. You can achieve both these things, do you see?”