Mai
He would glance around the audience as he sang, but his eyes always came back to her, and every time they did, a small smile would tug at the corner of his lips.
She began to feel an emotion inside her that she hadn’t felt in so many years.
Hope.
He had leaned away from her when she leaned into him, and that hurt. But she was an adult; she needed to get over that and pull herself together. She wasn’t going to run off and sulk just because her feelings were hurt.
She was going to stick around and talk to the man she’d loved for more than half a lifetime.
She was going to fight for the man she had loved for more than half a lifetime.
When he finished his next song, he strummed the opening chords of Summer Days, then looked directly at her, lifting his eyebrows and pointing at the guitar.
Her breath caught in her throat.
He wanted her to go up there?
Did she want to go up there?
Her pulse quickened, then her eyes locked on Ford’s and calm washed over her, and her heart slowed down.
She still shook her head. Every person watching had a mobile phone out and was filming Ford; she didn’t want to expose herself to that without the wig on. She wasn’t arrogant, but any Midnight Thunder fan who watched a video of Mai playing with Ford would immediately put Sie and Mai together.
Her gaze was drawn to her handbag on the floor, the handbag that contained the black hair.
Should she?
Could she?
She didn’t give herself any more time to think. She turned to Hel, who was sitting next to her. The other woman’s whole attention was focused on the stage as she swayed and grinned when Ford started playing Summer Days.
“Can you give me a hand?” Mai yanked the wig out and thrust it at her friend.
It took a moment and Frost poking his fiancée in the side to realise that Mai was talking to her. Hel stared in bewilderment at Mai, glancing down at the wig she held out—which Mai did have to admit resembled a dead rat more than hair.
Mai shook the wig, so it now looked like hair, and Hel’s eyes widened, then flew to the stage and back to Mai.
“Are you going….?” Hel didn’t finish her sentence and bounced on her chair.
Mai’s lips pulled up in a small smile. “Yeah. But I need the hair.”
No one in the pub was paying any attention to the two of them as they wrestled the black wig onto her head; they were solely focused on the world-famous musician in their midst.
When it was in place, Mai took a deep, steadying breath and got to her feet.
She took off her pink glasses and handed them to Hel.
The stage Ford sat on became blurry, and she carefully made her way through the crowd until she stood off to the side, waiting for Ford to finish the last verse of Summer Days.
But he didn’t finish the song; his blurry figure was up and moving toward her with the guitar held out.
He leaned down to her and muttered, “How much can you see without your glasses?”
Mai shrugged. “Bugger all.”
Instead of passing her the guitar, he took hold of her hand. A ripple of electricity shot up her arm, and she had to stop herself from entwining her fingers with his.
He tugged her up onto the small stage, leading her across to the seat and gesturing for her to take it.
Her heart thundered in her chest.
This was a mistake. What the hell had she been thinking?
Her knees trembled, and she sank down into the chair. She wouldn’t be able to play. Her hands were shaking too much. She’d felt so brave when she was sitting watching, but now she could feel her panic rising.
Then Ford’s warm hand touched her shoulder, and he bent down close to her ear so only she could hear him.
“I’m here, Sie. You can do this.”
She took a steadying breath, then another and another. Tipping her head back, she smiled up at his blurred face. The heat of his hand swept through her, and her pulse calmed again.
With one last deep breath, she strummed the opening chords of Summer Days, shutting out the whispers that were spreading around the pub.
“Holy shit, is that Sie?”
“Who the hell is that?”
“It’s the girl, the one from the original band.”
“I thought she was dead?”
The voices faded away. All there was now was Ford and her. Playing together like the last sixteen years hadn’t happened.
And when her breathing picked up, and her panic rose, it was like Ford sensed it, and he would squeeze her shoulder, bringing her back down to earth and letting her play.
After three more songs, Ford announced, “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. We need to head off now. But it’s been great playing for you.”
His hand released from her shoulder, and a flood of disappointment washed over her, but only for a moment, as he took the guitar from her, putting it onto the stand at the back of the small stage, then took hold of her hand and led her off and straight out the front door of the pub.
“I need my handbag,” she protested quietly as Ford tugged her back toward his car.
“Hel and Frost are right behind us, and she’s got it.” His soft voice made her shiver.
Mai glanced over her shoulder and could make out the blurred outline of the giant hockey player and the ginger curls of her friend in the dark. She really needed her glasses back.
“Oh my god! Mai, you were incredible! I can’t believe how good you are.” Hel strode up to her and yanked her into a hug, which was awkward as Ford didn’t let go of her hand.
“You’ve heard me play before.” Mai chuckled at her friend’s enthusiasm, even as heat rushed through her at the fact Ford hadn’t let go of her.
“Hel, do you mind if we skip the quiz tonight and head home? I’m tired.” Frost’s deep voice interrupted Hel, who was about to start another round of saying her friend was incredible.
Hel pulled back from Mai and passed her handbag over. “Okay, big guy. I know you need your beauty sleep.” She giggled as she said it.
Frost slung his arm around his fiancée’s shoulder, whispering something in her ear that made her flush before she declared, “We’re off home. Have a good night.” She was ten meters away with Frost when she yelled out, “Oh yeah. You were good too, Ford!”
Mai began to giggle at the slightly affronted grunt that came out of Ford. It must have been a very long time since he’d been an afterthought to someone as far as music was concerned.
“Night, guys,” Mai shouted after them. Then tried to rifle through her bag for her glasses, but couldn’t as Ford still had hold of her hand. He tugged her closer to him and reached over, pulling the itchy wig off her head, which made her sigh with relief.
“You look better as a blonde.” Ford's husky growl had her knees trembling.
“Thanks,” she whispered back.
“Sie—”
“Hey, Ford.” A voice called from the pub door, and Ford turned them, so he was between her and the person calling his name, hiding her from view while she wasn’t wearing a wig.
“Yeah, mate.” Ford dropped into his public persona; his voice sounded different, more guarded than when he spoke to her.
“Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself earlier. My name’s Ray, I own the Railway Tavern.”
“Nice to meet you, Ray.” Ford reached out to shake the hand of the man who was now standing right in front of him.
“I wanted to thank you for playing.”
“It was nothing, mate,” Ford said with a self-deprecating chuckle.
“It wasn’t nothing to me. It’s a struggle to keep the pub open.
The town isn’t huge, and for every good night that it’s full, we’ll have another night that it’s empty.
Each month, the bills only seem to get bigger, and we scrape by.
You’ve only been off the stage a few minutes, and my bar staff are telling me that the Railway Tavern is starting to trend on social media, which they’re telling me is a good thing.
You being here is publicity that I can’t get for myself. I wanted you to know I appreciate it.”
While Ray was speaking, Mai took the opportunity to dig through her handbag for her glasses, sighing with relief when she could see again.
She kept herself partially hidden by Ford, and let her hair fall over her eyes, watching the interaction between the small town pub landlord and the world-famous musician with interest.
“Like I say, it was a pleasure, mate.” Ford hesitated and cocked his head to one side, a posture Mai remembered from all those years ago. He was coming up with a plan. “What’s your quietest day of the week?”
Ray sighed. “At the moment, most days, apart from the pub quiz and the weekend.”
Ford glanced over his shoulder at her. “What evenings are you free next week?”
Mai instantly knew where this was going, and a smile spread across her face. “Monday, Tuesday and Thursday evening.” She was on-call Wednesday and Friday, much to her annoyance, as she would miss the pub quiz.
“So, Tuesday night. I’m going to play. Sie’s going to accompany me.” He reached back and grabbed her hand again, squeezing it. “That’s okay with you?”
She gave an answering nod, hope spreading through her chest, even as the heat radiated up her arm from his touch.
“You’re going to sell tickets for however much you want. Pack the place out. Sell them food and drink. It’ll keep the wolves from the door for another few months.” Ford gave Mai’s hand a little squeeze.
“What would your cut be?” Ray asked quietly.
“Nothing, mate.”
“But—”
Ford cut the older man off. “I grew up in a small town. You lose the pub, and you lose the heart of the community. If me playing for a couple of hours can help stop that. I’ll be there.”
“I don’t… shit, mate. I don’t know what to say.” Tears welled in the other man's eyes as he scrubbed at them. This was huge for the Railway Tavern.
“I’ve got one condition,” Mai said.
Ford turned to her, surprise visible on his face, and she gave him a reassuring smile.
“I need to buy twenty tickets.” Mai thought about all the money she’d just come into. The first thing she was going to do was pay for her pub quiz team to come and hear Ford sing.
A rush of fear shot through her as she remembered she was playing too, but Ford’s warm palm grounded her, and she realised it was time to make herself whole again.
She was Sie Harrington. She had been a rock star.
Even though she had spent so many years trying to separate herself from the girl she’d once been, she needed to reclaim that girl, not hide away from her.
People weren’t stupid. She wasn’t Hannah Montana.
The wig wasn’t going to fool them for more than twenty minutes.
In fact, in this day and age, she was pretty sure by now, the masses on the internet would be putting everything together, and soon, someone would come up with the correct theory that Sie Harrington was Dr Maisie Jones.
She lifted her chin and let her hair fall back so it no longer covered her face, and stepped out from behind Ford.
“No discount. I’m paying full price. I’ll come in on Friday and pick them up.”
“Sure.” Ray sounded bewildered. He stared at her, his eyes narrowed and drifted down, taking in her black clothes. The same clothes that Sie had worn to play.
Mai thrust her hand out, which wasn’t holding Ford’s. “My name’s Maisie. I go by Mai now, but in a previous life I was known as Sie.”
“I know you. You come to the pub quiz. You’re with the hospital team.” Ray shook her hand.
“I am. I’m a doctor in the hospital,” she confirmed.
Ray’s eyes widened in surprise. “And you play guitar in a band.”
Mai shook her head. “Not anymore. Once upon a time, I was a member of Midnight Thunder. But I haven’t been for a long time.”
Ford stiffened in shock as she spoke, and she squeezed his hand. She knew the world was coming for her. Maybe she’d known from the first moment she set foot in that dressing room the night Midnight Thunder came to Burra Creek.
“I’ll nip in on Friday. It’ll give you a chance to sort the tickets out.” Mai glanced at her watch. She wanted to pop back into work and check on Hayes before she went home for the night.
“No problem. I can’t believe this. You’re sure this is okay?” Ray still sounded baffled that this was happening.
“Of course. It’ll be fun to play in the pub. Oh, actually, I do want payment,” Ford said, which made Mai stiffen, before he continued, “We both want a burger when we come in!”
She sagged with relief, even as Ray barked with laughter.
“Done, mate.”
“Donnie’s my manager. I’ll ask him to call you in the morning and arrange everything.”
“Thanks. I can’t believe this. The staff are going to go insane. Oh shit, I need to get more staff in. Thanks again, Ford. This is amazing,” Ray said.
“Sounds like you’ve got work to do,” Ford said with a grin.
“I do.” Ray shook both of their hands one last time and rushed back towards the pub, shouting over his shoulder. “Thank you so much!”
When the landlord was safely inside, Ford turned to Mai, his expression unreadable. “You told him.”
“I did.” Mai nodded.
“I thought you wanted to hide?”
Again, she wished his face gave something of what he was feeling away, but it was a mask.
“I’ve been hiding for sixteen years. I’m done hiding.”
He tugged her hand, pulling her closer to him. “You only wanted to hide from us. From me.” Despite his gentle touch, his words cut her, pushing shards of glass into her heart.
She couldn’t deny anything he said though. She had hidden from them, from him.
“I was a foolish child. Running away from my feelings because that seemed easier.”
“And now?” The bitterness still tinged his voice, but his hand was gentle when it reached out and tucked one of her curls behind her ear.
Mai stared at him. She wanted to kiss him. She needed to, like she needed to breathe. And for a long moment as their eyes locked, she willed herself to close the gap between them. To touch her lips to his and forget about everything.
The only problem with that was that as soon as the kiss was over, nothing would have changed, and her emotions would be even more confused than before. They needed to talk. Clear the air. Find out if they could move past the betrayal she had dealt him all those years ago.
She needed to find out if they had a future, because if they didn’t, she had to start building the wall back up around her heart, the same wall that she had spent so long perfecting, which had crumbled the moment she saw Ford in Midnight Thunder’s dressing room.
“I’m an adult. I’m done running. I’m done being a fool. We need to talk. Not at the pub and not with Donnie trying to steer things from the corner.”
“Sie, I—“ Ford was cut off by the pub door opening and a crowd of young men wandering out, chatting and laughing together as they sang Midnight Thunder songs.
“Come over tomorrow night, I should finish work around six. I’ll cook. We can actually talk.” Mai stared up into Ford’s eyes. Hoping that one day they might look at her without hurt tinging his gaze.
“Sure. That sounds good. But I remember your cooking, shouldn’t I pick up food?”
Mai laughed. “I’ve definitely improved over the years. My food’s safe to eat now.” She glanced over her shoulder at the men who were nearly upon them. “We should head off, before you have to take any more selfies.”
Stepping away from him, she tugged on his hand, leading him toward his car.