Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CALLA
I’m sure someone snuck into the house during the night, opened my head and left a hamster running on one of those annoying little wheel things.
At least, this is how it feels. My head is spinning.
There’s a heavy arm draped across my chest, and when I open my eyes, I see Ash’s pools of blue staring back at me.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking, if I don’t move, my head won’t hurt.”
“Believe me, it doesn’t work.” I move, only slightly and that bloody hamster on the wheel is off again. Will he just give it a rest! “Oh my God Ash, how much did we drink last night?”
“A fucking hell of a lot,” another voice from the other side of the room chimes in. Tommy’s head pops up from under a Domino’s pizza box. “What the fuck happened man?” he says.
“The signing happened, New York happened, Bernie happened. You name it, it happened last night,” Ash says, his voice unintentionally rough, raspy and oh so sexy.
All the memories come flooding back. The celebrations, doing the conga down Henley Street, then ending the night with dancing in the front room, which is where we are now; on the floor, dying.
I sit up straight, ignoring the shooting pain in my head. “Ash, is your mum okay?”
“Oh, fuck!” Ash gets up and inadvertently falls over Max on the way out. “Hey, watch it, big fella,” he shouts. “Where’s the fire?”
“I’ve got to find Mum.”
“Don’t fret about it, Ash,” a croaky voice says as Brett emerges from a huge duvet in the corner. “She saw us all off. How do you think we got all these pillows and stuff to sleep on? Your mum was the last one standing for fuck’s sake. She’s good.”
“Thank Christ,” Ash says, a look of pain on his face. His head-rush must kick-in when he flops down next to me because his head falls straight to my lap. I curl my hands around it, when he says, “Help me, baby, I can’t do today. Wake me up tomorrow.”
“Wish I could, but I’ve got to go to work, and you have to go practice being a rock star.”
Someone comes in, and the light goes on.
“Jesus Christ guys, what the hell? What is that stench?” Dani’s arrived and I wonder how the hell she’s standing after packing away a ridiculous amount of Champagne last night. “What the hell is wrong with you lot.”
“Dani, we’re done today. It’s too hard,” Max murmurs from under his pillow.
“Sorry boys, no go. We have rehearsal time booked and a shed load of requests to fulfil. This thing of yours is going wild, so you better get your heads together. We have an interview with a local news station at noon, so get with it.”
“How come you’re so chirpy this morning,” Ash asks her.
“Years of practice. You’ll learn.” Dani smiles.
“Excuse me, Dani, I’ve got a lot to do today,” Ash’s mum comes barging past her and into the room. “Are you alright, Ashton?”
“No, Mum. Can you write me a note and tell them I can’t go in today?”
“For goodness’ sake. Pull yourself together, Son. You have a responsibility to Bernie and the record company. This is your day job now, so get to it. Oh, and while I think of it, have you contacted the university yet? You should let them know about your plans.”
“All done Mum. Sorted it a few days ago.”
“Well, that’s something I suppose.” Her voice takes on a completely different tone when she turns to me, “And how are you this morning, love?”
“I’m sure I’ll be at full throttle after one of your breakfasts, Liz.”
“That’s the spirit, Calla. I knew I could rely on you.”
“Teacher's pet,” Ash whispers, making me smile.
“Breakfast is ready in 5 minutes. Up you get kids.”
Ash finally pulls himself to standing, then offers out his hand. “Come on smarty pants, I want you upstairs a minute.”
“Jesus man, with your mum in the kitchen?” Tommy jokes and Ash shakes his head.
“We need a little privacy to talk for a minute, and I won’t get it down here with you lot, so yeah.”
“Don’t be too long,” Dani shouts. “I need you looking half decent within the hour.”
Ash pulls me up the stairs, we crash into his bedroom, and a fit of the giggles takes over us as we fall onto the bed. We lay opposite one another; his hand running over my hair. Then his eyes roam my face, but I don’t know what he’s looking for.
“Tell me now Cal, now the music’s died down and the Champagne is out of your system. Are you really okay about all this?”
“About you going to New York? You know I am. I want what’s best for you; what’s best for the band. I’d never hold you back from your future.”
“So, you’ll come with us then?”
My stomach drops. Did I mislead him that much? Did I say I’d follow him anywhere? I can’t remember now. I can’t remember my exact words and I should. They seem so important now. “Ash, I have to stay here. I have a degree to finish, remember?”
“And you said you’d look into maybe doing it on-line or an alternative.”
“No, you said that. I think I agreed to see you whenever I could, but I can’t give up what I’ve been working for the last three years. Please understand, I just need to finish this last year of uni, then who knows.”
He takes my hand, running his thumb over mine. “I suppose, deep down, I knew your answer.”
“All we have to do is get through this next year, that’s all. Then we can find a way to be together. Until then, we have to prepare ourselves for long periods apart.”
He rolls onto his back, looking up at the ceiling.
I get the feeling it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, so I crawl on top of him and straddle his body.
“We can do this—both of us. What I don’t want is for you to be down.
You need to look forward with the enthusiasm and excitement your future deserves.
Think about it. New York Ash, I mean, I’d give my right arm—”
“Then come with me.” His eyes follow his hand, rubbing up and down my thigh.
“I was going to say, I’d give my right arm to have my last year there, but I can’t. It won’t be long before I can join you, and I promise I will visit whenever I have a break. Every break.”
He huffs out a sigh, and I mean a proper huff like a spoilt kid. “Hey,” I smooth my fingers along the line of his strong jaw. “It’s not forever.”
From nowhere, he rolls me over and pins my arms back against the bed. “Promise you’ll be with me every spare minute you can.”
“Already promised.”
“And not to look at any of the university boys while I’m not here.”
“Technically, you’re still a university boy and the only one I’m interested in. Anyway, it’s me with the jealousy problem. I’ve still got to get my head around all those girls who I’m sure will vie for your attention.”
“I told you, you’re the only one that matters, the only one I want to come back to.”
“Hold that thought. I’m going to be a nightmare.”
His lips take mine as if there is another message in his kiss. It’s reassurance, security, trust and I can’t help but accept all those things from him. This year will be a bitch, but I have to deal with it. I’m not losing him under any circumstances. Not ever.
His hand runs up the line of my short skirt and is just about to duck under the material when there’s a call from downstairs.
“Kids, breakfast is ready.”
“Shit,” he says, flopping his body over mine. “I was hoping to eat you first.”
I giggle against him. “Next time. We better go, the others are waiting.”
The café is absolutely heaving when I arrive, as it always is during the run-up to festival weekend.
Rosie got her niece in to help, but she and Scott are still running around like blue arsed flies.
I don’t have time to cock about today, worrying about how I feel.
As soon as I get my apron on, I’m thrown in at the deep end.
There are several dirty tables, a takeaway queue filled with impatient customers, and a stack of crockery waiting for the dishwasher.
It's a shame Liz’s theory of a substantial breakfast didn’t do the trick for me.
I get to work for the afternoon shift, convinced someone beat seven bells out of me last night, while my stomach turns at the thought of dealing with more food.
My body aches everywhere. It could have been the dancing, but most likely is the attempt at gymnastics in the garden during the early hours of this morning.
I convinced the others I could do a backward walkover.
The reality is, I was never supple, even as a little one.
You’d think I’d have learnt that by now.
“What the hell happened to you last night?” Scott asks, a smirk across his face.
“Everything. Absolutely everything happened, but the key event was Ash and the boys signing their recording contract with Election.”
“That happened yesterday? I’m sure Ash said they were signing it at Brae Fest.”
“You’ve seen him?” Ash hadn’t said.
“Briefly. It was a stop in the street conversation.”
“Oh…well yes, it is happening at the festival, at least for the press. This was the real thing, the boring part if you like, but it was still one hell of a celebration,” I say rubbing my head, trying not to dwell too much on Ash’s trip to New York.
There was no mention of when it was happening or how long he would be there.
I can only hope it’s a quick trip and selfishly, I pray it doesn’t affect us too much.
Despite what we say to each other and the determination we both have to make it work, I hate the thought of not being around him.
“Look, I’ll do my best to help you out, but just a warning, Rosie is not in the best of moods today.” Scott leans in. “She’s cracking the whip.”
“I heard that young man,” Rosie shouts from the kitchen.
“She was meant to,” Scott winks, which throws me off guard, but I don’t have a second to analyse it.
“Keep your winking eyes away from my girl, Knox.”
I turn on my heel to find Ash standing there, the smile on his face confirming his little joke. “Don’t be gross, she’s my sister,” Scott says—smiling, but I’m not. His comment has unsettled me.