It was nearly midnight when Johnny got home. He was dropped off by Gerry, who helped him into the house and sat him down on the sofa.
‘He’s been drinking most of the day,’ Gerry told Alex. ‘I’ve got his car keys, I’ll bring his motor over in the morning if you’ll give me a lift back into the village after.’
Alex nodded, fussing over Johnny. ‘Thanks, Gerry, for everything. Bringing him home. You know.’
Gerry put his arm around her shoulders, gave her a squeeze. ‘Don’t worry, love, he’ll be okay. Everyone goes on a bender now and then.’ Alex nodded. She got some hot tea into Johnny after Gerry left, then helped him upstairs to bed.
Next morning he was ill and apologetic in equal measure.
Another lost day
, thought Alex. Gerry came over just after eleven with the car. Johnny was asleep again, curled up on the sofa. As Alex drove Gerry back to the George and Dragon, she said, ‘I’m worried about Johnny. He’s not himself just now. Acting oddly. Like yesterday, getting hammered, you know?’
Gerry nodded. ‘He’s had a tough time recently. Chrissie and Colin came to see me and Elaine. They told us he’d taken their news badly.’
‘Yes, he did. He went ballistic.’
‘Just give him a bit of space, love. Let him get his head round things.’ He smiled. ‘He’ll be fine. He’s a good bloke.’
Alex nodded, but she wasn’t convinced.
When she got back home, she found that they had visitors. Chrissie and Colin had dropped in with some news: they were off on holiday for a few weeks. They hadn’t decided for how long, but they were heading off to Colin’s place in Spain. They felt the need for some space.
Johnny spent an hour or so with them, then went back to bed. Chrissie smiled after him. ‘Been a long time since I saw the old man in that state. Still, at least he’s not up to fighting, that’s a blessing.’
‘I’m worried about him,’ said Alex. ‘He’s changed, clammed up. I was tempted to think it was just because of what’s happened lately, but I’m not so sure.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Chrissie.
‘Well, it sounds silly, but it’s the book. We were plodding along, doing okay, and now it’s just ground to a halt.’
‘Where are you up to?’ asked Colin.
‘Early ’82. Rehab.’
Colin nodded, looked thoughtful. ‘After
Feet of Clay
. That was just after you were born, love,’ he said to Chrissie. ‘It was a weird time. Nicci was struggling to cope, as I recall, didn’t know how to handle things with Johnny. Tom was round here a lot. Christ, we all were, trying to do our bit to help, but Tom was his oldest friend. Johnny pulled through okay. It just took him a bit of time to get his head sorted out and then he coped in his usual way; he drove himself harder than ever with the band, wrote it all out of his system.’ He scratched his head, opened his mouth as if to speak, then thought better of it.
‘What?’ asked Alex and Chrissie together.
‘Well, I was just going to say, Nicci and my first wife Gemma were very close around then. They spent a lot of time together. It might be worth having a word with her. I’ve got a number for where she was about nine or ten years ago. I don’t know if she’s still there, we didn’t keep in touch after we split up.’
Colin gave Alex the phone number and they said their farewells. Alex was getting used to the idea of Chrissie and Colin as a couple; she even thought they seemed a better match than Marilyn and Colin.
After she had waved them off, Alex headed upstairs to find Johnny. He was padding around barefoot in jeans and an open shirt, his hair damp from the shower.
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Stupid.’ He tried a tentative smile, gauged the response it got. ‘I’m sorry, Alex, I don’t know what got into me.’
‘About a gallon of beer and half a bottle of Jack.’
He put his arms around her, kissed the top of her head. ‘Are we okay?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said, pulling back to look at him, brushing a lock of damp hair out of his eyes. ‘I’m just a bit worried about you, that’s all.’
Johnny shrugged, evaded her eyes. ‘There’s been a lot happening lately. Candy, the papers, Chrissie and Colin. You know.’
Alex nodded. ‘As long as that’s all it is.’ Johnny didn’t answer. ‘You would tell me if there was anything else, wouldn’t you? Johnny?’ He kissed her, gently at first, then more insistently. Doubt flickered briefly across Alex’s mind, then was forgotten as Johnny undressed her and took her to bed.
Johnny and Alex spent the afternoon in bed, then wandered downstairs in search of food. Their usual, easy intimacy was resumed as they cooked dinner and then settled down to watch a movie.
Next morning, when Alex awoke, Johnny was missing from the bed.
Chapter 66
Alex didn’t bother looking for Johnny, she reckoned he’d come back when he was ready. Instead, she phoned the number Colin had given her for his first wife.
‘Hi,’ she said, when the phone was answered. ‘Can I speak to Gemma Carson, please?’
‘Gemma Carson? I’m sorry, there’s nobody here of that name.’
‘She lived there a while ago. You don’t have a forwarding address for the last owners, do you?’
‘Yes, but they’re not called Carson. We bought the house about eighteen months ago and they had the place for about three years before that. How long ago was your friend here?’
‘Earlier than that. I’m sorry to have troubled you.’ Alex put the phone down and thought. She wasn’t ready to give up yet. She picked up the handset again and dialled Paul and Siobhan’s number.
‘Hi Siobhan. It’s Alex.’
‘Alex, hello, how are you?’
‘I’m okay, thanks. You guys?’
‘Fine, fine. Thinking about a holiday. It’s that time of year, isn’t it? How’s Johnny?’
Alex hesitated, not sure how to start. ‘Not good,’ she said eventually. ‘That’s the main reason I’m calling.’
‘What’s up?’ asked Siobhan, sounding concerned. ‘Is he okay?’
‘Yes, he’s basically okay. I mean, nothing’s happened to him. But he’s behaving oddly.’
‘How? In what way oddly?’
‘Well, he won’t talk to me about the band anymore. He’s shutting it out. And he keeps … hiding.’
‘Hiding?’ Siobhan was incredulous. ‘What do you mean, like hide and seek?’
Alex laughed. ‘No, not like that. “Running away” might be a better way to put it. To avoid me asking him questions.’ She explained about the past few weeks. ‘He’s been evasive for about a month. We didn’t really need to go to France, you know. Certainly not for a fortnight, although we did have a great time. He overreacted. I think it was just a way to deflect me from questioning him further. He’s running away from something, but I don’t know what.’
‘What period have you got up to?’
‘Early ’82. When Johnny went into rehab for his drinking.’
‘He seemed to get through that reasonably well. Once he started to get help, anyway. It was tough, but he survived. Then threw himself into his work, as per usual when he was getting over something.’ Her voice softened. ‘He was in such a state the year before. Poor love. We were all incredibly relieved when he got things under control.’
‘Colin suggested I try to get in touch with his ex, Gemma. He said she and Nicci were close.’
‘Yes, I remember they were.’
‘Colin gave me the last number he had for her, but she’s moved on.’ Alex hesitated. ‘Do you have a contact number for her, Siobhan? Do you know where Gemma is?’
‘I’ve got an address in Nottingham from about five years ago, but no phone number. I still send a Christmas card there, but I don’t get one back so I’ve no idea if she’s still there. She went back to her maiden name, so if you check for a number, look under Gemma Willis.’ She paused. ‘Of course, five years is a long time. She could have remarried or anything by now.’ Siobhan dug out the address and read it to Alex. ‘Let me know how you get on. And give Johnny our love, won’t you.’
Alex drew a blank trying to get a phone number for either Gemma Carson or Gemma Willis at that address.
She could be anywhere
, she thought.
She might not even have a landline, she might rely on a mobile
. She was debating writing a letter, thinking about the time delay and likely futility of doing that, when the phone rang.
‘Hello, love, it’s Gerry.’
‘Hi. How are you and Elaine?’
‘We’re fine, thanks, Alex, but Johnny isn’t.’ Alex’s heart sank. ‘He’s here now. He’s in a bit of a state.’ Gerry paused. ‘I’ve put him to bed, he was close to passing out anyway.’
‘I’ll be there as soon as I can, Gerry. And thanks, you’re a mate.’ She grabbed her car keys and ran out of the door.
***
When Alex got to the George and Dragon, Gerry led her straight through to the living quarters. ‘Our son Monty’s watching the bar,’ he informed Alex. ‘He helped me get Johnny up to bed as well. I doubt I’d have managed on my own.’
Johnny was lying in the recovery position on the bed in Gerry and Elaine’s spare room. Alex went over to him, brushed his hair out of his eyes. He was crashed out, completely unaware of her presence. ‘Elaine’s checking on him every quarter of an hour or so. Better safe than sorry,’ said Gerry.
Alex kissed Johnny’s forehead, then turned to Gerry. She gestured helplessly; ‘What on earth am I going to do?’
***
They were in the sitting room. Gerry had made a pot of tea and Elaine had popped in briefly to see Alex. ‘Don’t you worry, love, we’ll keep an eye on him. It’ll all be okay in the morning,’ she said. She squeezed Alex’s shoulder, then hugged her. Alex appreciated the thoughts and gestures, but remained unconvinced.
‘Thanks for looking after him. Again.’
Gerry waved off her thanks. ‘I’m just sorry he got into that state in the first place. He didn’t drink enough here to do that to himself. And he didn’t seem too bad when he came in.’ He shrugged. ‘He’s got a high tolerance, though. Not as much as in the old days, but still pretty high. He’s used to masking how hammered he is as well. He’s been doing that for years.’
‘What was he like in ’82, can you remember? The time he went into rehab?’
Gerry considered. ‘He was in a hell of a state when they came back from touring the year before. I’d never seen him so messed up.’ He snorted. ‘I’d never seen anyone so messed up. They had a party, him and Nicci, on Bonfire Night that year, the year little Christabel was born. It was a really good do, Johnny’s parties always were. I remember he seemed as if he was doing okay, then he passed out in the middle of everything. God knows what he’d put away. He got put to bed that night, as well. Nicci was upset, but we all rallied round. Then he saw sense, got help and got back on track.’ Gerry paused. ‘Until the boys died.’
‘You got caught up in it all too, didn’t you? What was your take on it?’
Gerry took a deep breath, then expelled it slowly. ‘It was horrible. A nightmare. We’d lost two close friends, but the press didn’t care. They just wanted words, pictures, anything about the boys in the band, living or dead. They were all over Helmsleigh like a rash. I understood all the boys’ gripes about the press after that. In fact, I hated them myself.’
Chapter 67
1986
Gerry was bottling up when Monty came hurtling down the cellar stairs. ‘Dad, Dad,’ he shouted, ‘come quickly. Uncle Andy’s on the telly.’ They went back upstairs together, Gerry expecting it to be some news item about the band’s upcoming tour. He was shocked to find Elaine sobbing helplessly, her hands flapping like tethered birds, and he strode towards her.
‘Love? What is it?’ he asked, putting his arms around his wife.
‘It’s Andy. Somebody’s stabbed Andy.’
‘Stabbed Andy? Why would anyone do that?’ Gerry realised the stupidity of the question. ‘Is he badly hurt?’
‘He’s dead, Gerry. They’ve killed him.’ Elaine choked on the words and went into a fresh paroxysm of sobbing. Eleven-year-old Monty was in tears now, too, frightened as much by his mother’s crying as he was by the news about Andy Airey. Gerry was numb with shock. He hugged his family to him. After a while they pulled themselves together, dried their eyes. Elaine plucked at Gerry’s arm. ‘Do you think Johnny and Nicci know yet?’
Gerry jumped into his car and drove to the house. If they hadn’t heard, it wasn’t the sort of news you delivered by phone unless you had to. One look at Johnny’s face when he got there told Gerry he already knew. The men hugged each other, grim-faced but so far dry-eyed.
‘Do you know how Tiffany is?’ Gerry asked Johnny.
‘Sedated. Nicci’s on her way to the hospital to see her.’ Johnny paused. ‘It’s even worse, though, Gerry. I’ve just heard from Dan.’ He sounded desperate. ‘Tom’s dead, too.’
With that, the dam burst for Johnny, and Gerry helped him back into the house, racked with sobs. Gerry was numb; it was all too much to take in. When Johnny was quieter, Gerry went and made coffee for them both, adding a healthy slug of brandy to Johnny’s mug.
‘Get that down you. It’ll help.’ Over the next half hour or so, in between phone calls from the rest of the band, family and friends, Gerry got the story, or at least as much of it as he knew, out of Johnny. Andy had been stabbed by an obsessive fan outside the restaurant where he and Tiffany had eaten dinner. Tiffany had been with him when he died and was under sedation, having been hysterical at the scene. Then, in the early hours of the morning, Tom had been found dead on the pavement outside his London home. He appeared to have fallen from a window. The police were investigating, but his death wasn’t thought to be suspicious.
Gerry stayed with Johnny until the middle of the afternoon, when Nicci returned. She had heard the news about Tom while she was at the hospital and had left her car, no longer in any state to drive, and taken a taxi home. When she came in she was ashen, very shaky. Gerry helped Nicci to a chair, then got the housekeeper to come and look after her and Johnny. He checked that the children were with their nanny and told her what had happened before heading off, having promised to return next morning.
***
Johnny was on a downward spiral from that day on. By the time it came to his friends’ funerals, he was pale-faced, sweating, mumbling and shaking, pinpoint pupils hidden behind dark glasses.