Heartbreaker (19 page)

‘It was such a fucking awful way for him to die. We couldn’t believe it, it just didn’t seem possible. All the death threats we’d had in the States, all the security, all the fears about being killed. Even when John Lennon was shot, so up close and personal, we still didn’t think anyone would get that close to one of us. Especially not here; we believed that we were safe on home ground. Stupid. I miss him, Alex. I miss Andy every fucking day.’

Chapter 46

1986

Andy Airey was the truly beautiful one in what was without question a good-looking band. He was tall, six foot four, which made him a couple of inches taller than Johnny, and he had dark blonde hair and soulful green eyes with long, dark lashes. His hair was shorter in ’86 than in the early days with the band, and his arms bore faint tracks which told of his old habit.

Tuesday, the tenth of June, 1986, was the eve of a month-long UK tour for Heartbreaker. Andy was meeting up with his bandmates the next afternoon and they were flying to Belfast. Although after ’79’s revelations families travelled with the band more often, Tiff and the kids had decided to stay home; Andy wouldn’t be away all that long and he’d never be very far from them.

Andy and Tiffany went out for dinner to their favourite restaurant to say farewell. It had been a hot, muggy day and the evening was close, a hint of thunder in the air. People were hoping the weather would break overnight; a good storm would clear the air. They enjoyed their evening out, took time over their meal. They didn’t often have time together just as a couple. They were good company and always made people welcome, and so often had friends and family around them.

‘What do you think, Tiff, should we have another kid?’ They had been debating adding to their family for a while. Andy had his fingers entwined in hers, holding hands under the table like they’d done as sweethearts at school. ‘The girls will be twelve at the end of the year; is that too much of a gap?’

Tiffany had always assumed they would have more children, but then Heartbreaker had taken over their lives and somehow it had never happened. ‘I think the twins would love a little brother or sister,’ she said. ‘You know what they’re like with Chrissie and Becky.’

Andy smiled. ‘Yeah, they’re good kids. They look like me, but they act like you.’ He paused and frowned. ‘We’re not too old, are we Tiff?’

‘We’re barely into our thirties, lots of people haven’t had their first kid at our age. We’ll be fine.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘A little boy, this time, that looks like me and acts like you.’

‘Not too much like me, I hope.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘Shall we call a cab?’

‘We’ll pick one up on the street. Let’s get the bill and head home. I’m losing you from tomorrow, remember, I want to make the most of the time we’ve got.’ She grinned, eyes sparkling, and Andy signalled for the bill.

They were just leaving the restaurant when Andy was stopped by a young man in jeans and a leather bomber jacket. ‘Hi,’ he said, ‘aren’t you Andy Airey?’

Andy stopped and smiled. ‘Guilty as charged.’ He always made time for fans, never wanted them to feel as if they were a nuisance. ‘How’re you doing?’

‘Great. I mean it’s great to meet you. Can I have your autograph?’

Andy took the pen and notebook he was offered. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Roy. But can you sign it to Freda? She’s my girlfriend. She’s crazy about you.’

Tiffany said afterwards she’d thought there was something odd about the lad, he didn’t seem like an ordinary fan. They normally stared, wanting to take it all in, remember exactly what had happened and who had said what so they could tell their mates afterwards. This guy was different.

‘He couldn’t stand still,’ she had told Johnny. ‘He looked like he needed the loo. You know, that little dance of desperation. Plus, he was in such a hurry just to get the autograph.’ Fans normally chatted a while, asked how things were going, commented on an album, or a gig they had been at. ‘And he was wearing a leather jacket, in all that heat. He just looked and seemed wrong. If only I had followed my instincts and got Andy away from him. Or if we’d ordered a cab when we were inside, we might have avoided him.’ Even as she had said it, she had known that it wouldn’t have been easy. Witnesses had seen Roy waiting outside of the restaurant for over an hour. How he had known they were there, whether he’d been following them for a while or just got lucky, no one knew. But he was lying in wait for Andy when he left.

Andy spoke while he wrote. ‘“To Freda, keep on rocking! Love and best wishes, Andy Airey.” Will that be okay, do you think, Roy?’

‘What? Oh, yes, that’ll be great. She talks about you all the time. Got your picture on her bedroom wall.’ He sniggered. ‘I think she’s a bit obsessed, if you ask me.’

‘You must get fed up with that. It’s good of you to get the autograph for her.’

‘Well, I love her, see?’ Andy nodded. Roy went on. ‘But one time, see, when we were … you know …’

‘I get the picture.’

‘Well, she called me “Andy”.’ Roy faced Andy and grinned at him, but his eyes darted about, not staying in any one place for long.

Andy stared at him, no idea what to say.

Tiffany was scared. ‘Come on, Andy,’ she said, ‘let’s go back inside and call a cab.’ She tugged at his arm and he was starting to turn away, to come with her, when the boy spoke again.

‘Well, I can’t let that pass, can I? It’s just like you’ve had my bird.’

Andy paused. ‘No—’ he started to say, but the boy interrupted him.

‘So you’ve got to die.’ The boy laughed then, a shrill cackle that made the hairs on the back of Tiffany’s neck stand on end. As he spoke, Roy pulled a screwdriver from inside his jacket and lunged at Andy. Andy put his hands up to defend himself and the palm of his left hand was lacerated: the head of the screwdriver had been sharpened to a razor edge. Andy cried out in pain and surprise. Tiffany screamed. Roy plunged the screwdriver deep into Andy’s chest, buried it almost up to the handle. Andy gasped and fell to his knees on the pavement outside the restaurant. Roy pushed him back onto the ground and put his foot on his chest to get sufficient leverage to pull the screwdriver out. Andy screamed with the pain. Roy stabbed Andy three more times and then ran. No one stopped him.

‘Someone call an ambulance. Now! Please, call an ambulance.’ Tiffany fell to her knees beside Andy, cradling his head and sobbing, watching helplessly as his blood ran away into the gutter. His eyes were clouded with pain. She stroked his brow and his hair, spoke nonsense words to comfort him. He used his last breaths to tell his wife how much he loved her and their children. His final words were: ‘I’m so sorry, Tiff …’

‘Andy, no. Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me. Andy!’

He died in her arms.

Tiffany howled with rage and misery. After everything they had been through, it was just so senseless, so unfair.

It turned out that the first wound to the chest had done the damage. The others were just window dressing. The screwdriver had pierced Andy’s heart, punched a hole in it; it was just a matter of time after that. When the ambulance arrived, there was nothing anyone could do for Andy; it was far too late. Tiffany, covered in blood, was eventually persuaded to let go of his body and was taken away in hysterics and sedated. It was a long time before she could sleep without medication. She had nightmares she would not have wished on her worst enemy. The boy who killed Andy Airey got clean away.

***

Next morning, Alex suggested they took a break and Johnny readily agreed. Talking about his friend’s murder had taken it out of him. They pottered about the house, then went to the George and Dragon for lunch. Gerry greeted them warmly, then scolded them for staying away for so long. Johnny promised to be there the Saturday after next; it was Elaine’s birthday and there was to be a party. ‘I’ll get the guys to come. We’ll play for you.’

‘Great,’ said Gerry, ‘she’ll like that. Always did like you mad buggers taking the place over.’

Johnny grinned. ‘It’s been too long, Ger. We’ll have a good night.’

***

Next day Johnny disappeared into his studio and Alex spent the day working on her laptop. She was heading north the following day and coming straight back on the Saturday. She was looking forward to seeing Isabel and Carol, and to sorting things out with Carol, she hoped, but she also couldn’t wait to get back to Johnny again.

Chapter 47

Alex went straight to Isabel and Robert’s house when she got back. The place appeared to be deserted, so she let herself in. Her cat, Bones, was asleep on a chair. He opened one eye when he heard her moving around and closed it again when she spoke to him.
Great
, she thought,
he’s sulking
. She realised there was a danger she would lose him to Isabel and Robert permanently. Then again, who knew what the future held. It was early days, but Black Cat Bones might find himself moving house and making friends with Ginger Baker.

With no clues as to where Isabel might be, Alex decided to return later. She said goodbye to Bones and headed off to her flat, was busy sorting out some stuff when the doorbell interrupted her. Her heart sank when she saw who’d rang it.

‘What do you want this time?’

Dave pushed past her. ‘To try to talk some sense into you, you slag.’

‘What?’ Alex was stunned, then angry. ‘Get the fuck out of my flat.’

‘You don’t deny it, then?’

‘Deny what?’

‘I’ve seen Carol. She told me you were shagging Johnny Burns. I said no way, I didn’t believe it. Is it true?’

‘What business is it of yours who I choose to see? We’re finished, Dave.
Finito
. History.’

‘It’s my business when you leave me for a fucking geriatric pervert.’

‘What?’ Alex was incredulous. Anger took over. ‘I left you because you were unfaithful, you shit. Or have you conveniently forgotten that little episode? You make me sick.’

‘Unfaithful? Is it any fucking wonder? You were never there. How many other “clients” have you shagged? And another thing: just how long do you think Mr Wonderful is going to be faithful? He hasn’t got a very good rep in that department.’

‘Fuck off out of here. Get out and do not come back.’ Alex beat at him until he retreated toward the door. ‘Out, out, out.’ He opened it and stepped out. Then he stepped back inside.

‘One last question, Alex.’

‘What now?’ She ran a hand through her hair, tired from the drive and sick at heart from the row.

‘Aren’t you a bit old for him, love?’ Dave stepped out and slammed the door behind him. Alex leaned back against the wall and put her face in her hands. Then she slid down into a sitting position and wept hot, angry tears.

A short while later Alex ran a bath. She had dried her eyes and pulled herself together, and reckoned a soak would do her good. Pouring a generous shot of scented oil into the steaming tub, she put a CD in the machine, stripped off her clothes and relaxed into the warm fragrant water. No sooner had she closed her eyes and started to unwind, lulled by the warmth and the music, than the shrill cry of the telephone drilled into her head. Cursing, praying it wasn’t Dave again, she hauled herself out of the bath, grabbed a towel and hurried to the phone, wrapping herself up as she went.

‘Hi.’

‘Alex. It’s Robert.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s Isabel.’ His voice broke. ‘We’re at the hospital.’

Chapter 48

Alex was at the hospital within half an hour to find out what was going on. She was worried sick; all she could get out of Robert was some stuff about high blood pressure. She found him in a waiting room, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. After what felt like an age, a nurse came to find them.

‘Is there any news?’ asked Alex.

‘And you are …?’

‘Isabel’s sister.’

The nurse nodded. ‘Isabel’s comfortable. You can see her in a minute.’

‘Thank God,’ exclaimed Robert. ‘What can you tell us about what’s happened?’

The nurse gestured. ‘Why don’t we all have a seat?’

***

Alex left the hospital at seven thirty, having arranged to have dinner with Robert later; in the meantime, she wanted a word with Carol. She didn’t know if her friend would be in, but hadn’t wanted to ring first and warn her that she was on her way. Luck was on Alex’s side, however, and Carol answered the door all dressed up to go out.

‘Hi, Alex, come on in. I’m off out to meet Stuart in a bit, but I’ve got half an hour.’ Carol was all smiles, Alex was straight-faced; Carol picked up on it. ‘What’s up?’

‘I had Dave round earlier.’

‘Yeah?’ Carol fiddled with her earrings, watched Alex in the mirror. ‘What did he want?’

‘Don’t you know?’

‘Look, I bumped into Dave in Tangerine. We got talking, he was asking about you, how you were, how the job was going, if you were seeing anybody, that sort of thing. I just told him you and Johnny Burns were an item, that’s all.’

Alex raised an eyebrow. Carol had the decency to squirm. ‘His reaction was a bit extreme for you to have just said that.’

‘I … I might have said something about being surprised at the two of you getting together, you know, with Johnny’s reputation and the age difference and everything.’

‘You’re a real mate, aren’t you, Carol.’ Alex spat the words out angrily. ‘Not content with being pissed off with me yourself, you drag other people into it. Who the fuck are you to disapprove of me?’

‘I didn’t mean any harm. He wants to get back with you.’ Alex shot her a look. Carol blundered on. ‘You two were good together. You told me yourself that you were thinking about getting married.’

‘Thanks for reminding me.’

Carol reached out to Alex, squeezed her arm. ‘Come on, mate, let’s not fight.’ She knew it wasn’t like Alex to stay angry for long. Alex shrugged her off. ‘I just thought you’d be better off patching things up with Dave, picking up where you left off, you know?’