26. Ford
Ford
As Ford held Sie’s hand, he felt his future cement. This was where he was going to be. Wherever she was.
He needed to tell her what he wanted. He needed to tell her that while he would never understand why she left, he could forgive her if she was willing to move forward with him.
If he were honest with himself, maybe her walking away without telling him was the only thing she could have done. He would have gone with her, and then resented her for all the might-have-beens. Always wondering what he could have achieved with Midnight Thunder.
He squeezed her hand and towed her into the living room.
When they stood in front of his guitars, he grumbled. He needed to let her go and give her one of the array of guitars. He trailed his fingers over her palm as he released his grip and grinned when she shivered.
Turning to her, Ford’s head dipped toward her, his eyes searching hers, which were locked on him—just as Scotty exclaimed loudly from behind them.
“I’m having a beer and lunch while I listen to Sie. I’m starving.” Scotty strolled into the room with Donnie and Joel in his wake.
"The photographer’s gone," Donnie said. He went straight to the fridge and started to pull the food out that he’d loaded in there on his arrival.
Ford stepped away from Sie, his voice quiet. “Play for me.”
Sie’s wide eyes stared up at him, and she blinked. He frowned when he noticed they were watery.
Shit, how had he made her cry?
“I need to take these stupid contacts out first. I think my eyes are on fire. Where’s the bathroom?” Sie demanded.
Ford laughed and pointed. “Second door on the right.”
“Thanks.” Sie's eyebrows drew down. “Shit, I left my handbag in the shed. I’m blind as a bat without my glasses.”
“It’s by the front door,” Donnie called from the open-plan kitchen as he rifled through the fridge.
Ford chuckled. Their manager was so used to picking up after the band that he did it now without thinking.
“Thanks,” Sie replied.
His eyes didn’t leave her as she walked across the room, retrieved her bag and headed for the bathroom.
It only took her a couple of minutes, and when she came out, he couldn’t help but smile at the image she presented. She was dressed like Sie, had makeup like Sie, but the pink glasses and blonde curls were all Mai, the doctor.
“You wear glasses now?” Joel exclaimed around the sandwich he was stuffing in his mouth.
“Yeah, and my eyes aren’t violet,” she replied.
“What!” Joel put his sandwich down and walked over to Sie, looking into her face, which made Ford’s heart race in a bad way. “Shit. No way! Blue. Scotty, Sie’s eyes are actually blue!”
“What can I say. I was young and didn’t know the terrible eye infections you'd catch if you constantly wore contact lenses.” Sie shrugged, grinning ruefully.
“That’s wild. What else don’t we know about you?” Joel asked.
Sie said, “My name isn’t really Sie Harrington.”
“We know that,” Scotty interjected. “It’s Maisie Harrington.”
“Nope. It’s Maisie Jones.” She laughed, a sound that Ford wanted to hear every day for the rest of his life.
“Shit. No way! Is that why we couldn’t find you?” Joel stepped away from her. “You just went by your actual name, and you were gone.”
“Yeah.” Guilt crossed Sie's face.
Ford spoke, not wanting her to start apologising again. “Can you play your song?”
Sie’s blue eyes swung to him, and she nodded. “Sure. Do you mind which guitar I use?”
“No, you can use any of them.” He knew the other two would be staring at him in shock. He never let anyone play his guitars—not even his bandmates.
Sie ran her fingers over the neck of two of the guitars before her hand closed around the third.
His favourite. The one he’d owned for twenty years and wrote so many songs on with her.
Back then, they would pass it back and forth, taking turns to pick out bits of the melody until they’d created a song.
She looked up at him under her lashes and grinned, that eye contact making Ford sure she was sharing the same memories as him. The times they would sit in her bedroom at her parents’ house and play whenever the adults were close to her room, and then when they weren’t, they would be kissing.
She took the guitar and sat on the sofa, propping her notebook on the coffee table. When she began to play the song, you could have heard a pin drop in the living room.
Her voice was crystal clear and vulnerable as she sang the chorus about loss, then soared as the verse promising redemption rang through the house.
When she stopped singing, she blinked and pushed her glasses back up her nose.
The room was silent.
Ford could only stare at her.
Donnie was the first to talk. “Sie, if Ford is staying retired and Midnight Thunder don’t want that song, I already know which of my bands I want it for.”
Ford blurted out before he thought for more than a millisecond, “Midnight Thunder want it. It’ll be perfect for our next album, and a great opener on our next tour.”
Scotty and Joel exchanged looks. “We’re touring again?”
“Sounds like it,” Donnie confirmed when Ford didn’t say anything. “Sie, if you’re happy with that, I’ll get a contract to you for it.”
Sie stared wide-eyed around the room and blurted, “I’ve got more songs. Some won’t suit Midnight Thunder as a band, but a few of Donnie’s singers would be ideal for them.”
“You know who all my clients are?” Donnie questioned.
Sie blushed. “Yeah. We have the internet in Burra Creek.”
Donnie laughed. “I wasn’t implying you didn’t, it’s just a very specific thing to Google. Who were you thinking of?”
She put the guitar down and picked up her notebook, walking over to the kitchen counter.
Ford followed her over without hesitation and glared at Donnie when he went to stand next to Sie. Their manager gave him a sly smile and stepped aside so Ford could stand beside her.
He stood so close that he felt the heat of her body and noticed when she shifted fractionally toward him. It was subtle, but that was always how things had been between them. When they were close, they naturally gravitated together.
The four men crowded around her notebook, as Scotty and Joel had joined them too.
Sie flicked through the pages, then pointed. “This first one. It’s sweet and pretty. It’s for someone young who hasn’t seen much of life yet. I was thinking Calla. Her voice would be perfect for this, and she’s got that innocent vibe.”
“She is not innocent.” Joel guffawed and high-fived Scotty, who also laughed.
“Ewww, you are both way too old for her. Don’t be stereotypical dirty old men,” Sie admonished, much to Ford’s amusement.
She went through her entire notebook, jotting down on the top of each song who they should be assigned to, and when she was finished, Midnight Thunder had twelve new songs.
“I’ll go through my other books and see what else I have,” Sie said.
Ford stared at her. “You have more than this? You said you hadn’t written much.”
Sie shrugged. “Yeah. I guess it’s more than I realised. I’ve got another ten books at home.”
“The music never left you,” Ford murmured, his eyes locking onto hers.
“Even though I left it,” Sie said softly, gazing back.
“Holy crap. Are you kidding me right now?” Donnie was elated. “Fuck. You’ve got a treasure trove of work, all waiting for my artists. This is literally the best news I’ve had all year.”
“Better than finding out I was alive?” Sie said dryly, but she didn’t break eye contact with Ford.
Donnie chuckled. “Obviously, that was number one. This is a close second.”
“What about Ford’s announcement that he’ll tour again?” Joel raised an eyebrow.
“That’s probably number three.” Donnie slapped Ford on the back, making him jolt forward and break eye contact with Sie.
“I’m not touring with Ryan, though,” Ford said firmly.
“That won’t be a problem,” Donnie replied.
Ford shook his head. “How won’t it be a problem? We can’t tour as Midnight Thunder if we dump one of our members. Even if he wasn’t one of the originals, he has a contract.”
“Well, about that…“ Donnie said slowly.
Ford’s eyes swung to their manager. “What?”
Donnie cleared his throat a few times. “He only ever signed a contract as a sessional musician. A very well-paid one, so he never noticed. But written into his contract is that you three can drop him whenever you want, and he has no legal recourse. No rights to Midnight Thunder’s music.
No rights for any financial compensation after he leaves. ”
Ford blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Oh, mate. Can we do that to him?” Scotty questioned. “That seems a little harsh.”
“Do you want to work with him again?” Ford asked.
“Not really. He’s an annoying dickhead,” Joel said, shaking his head.
“What about you?” Ford turned to Scotty, who looked pained.
“I dunno. I mean, he’s been with us for sixteen years. I’m not saying I like him that much. He was hilarious at first, but it’s all a bit old now.” The drummer sighed.
Ford started in shock. He had no idea that Scotty was getting annoyed with Ryan’s antics too. He always laughed along like he was enjoying himself. Maybe Ford had been pulling away from his friends for no reason at all.