Sophie's Encore (34 page)

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Authors: Nicky Wells

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Fiction, #Humor

BOOK: Sophie's Encore
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January was a miserable month. Dan called as often as he could. He had kept his promise and rang me from the airport on that first day of the band’s trip. As promised, we Skyped. We emailed. I followed Tuscq’s progress on their Facebook page. The kids received letters and little presents sent via the Internet. Dan was as present as he could be, but he wasn’t
there
, and we missed him sorely. If I was sad, the kids were sullen and sulky until I read them the riot act about taking the rough with the smooth, enjoying the good times for the sake of getting through the bad, and being thankful for what they had rather than ruing what they didn’t. They looked at me with big, confused eyes and went meekly to play with their toys.

First-rate parenting
, I scolded myself while I observed their hunched figures sloping off to the playroom, already regretting my outburst.
They’re a little young for this level of philosophical stoicism
.
And you might as well take your own advice while you’re at it
.

And thus I tried. The very next day, I resumed my sound engineering training. Richard left my apprenticeship in the capable hands of a mate who would be holding the fort for him while he went on tour with Tuscq, and Dean worked me extra-hard just to prove his mettle. However, at Richard’s insistence, I was now being paid a very small wage, and I was inordinately proud of this achievement, even though the money was peanuts, really.

Thus I went to work, the kids went to school and playschool, we had dinner, we read stories, we waited for Dan’s call, we went to bed. That was January.

February got worse. In February, we were ill. Josh brought home a nasty virus from school, and by the time he felt better, Emily had caught it, and, of course, I didn’t escape it either. I found myself trying to launder my daughter’s duvet and bedding in between bouts of my own sickness, and I felt very sorry for myself indeed. Rachel offered to help, but I told her to stay away. This virus was the last thing she or baby Henry needed.

When the sickness finished, the flu arrived. After only four days of being almost back to normal, Emily came down with a really high fever that wouldn’t budge. For two nights, I sat with her, mopping her brow, feeding her medicine, and wishing someone else was there to help out. I caught Emily’s flu just before Josh did, and for a couple of days, the three of us curled up in my bed together for want of any easier solution, and we slept and sweated and shivered and coughed in turn. Mum and Dad were back from their cruise and highly concerned about us all, but I refused to let them come.

Dan got incredibly worried with every passing day and eventually summoned his housekeeper Jenny to come to our rescue. One morning, she appeared at our front door with a set of meals for the day, already cooked, which she left in the kitchen with re-heating instructions. I was tremendously grateful for this small mercy. Actually, it was a huge mercy, for I wasn’t in any fit state to shop or cook. She came back again the next day, and the day after that she took care of the laundry and cleaned the downstairs.

“You’ll catch your death in our house,” I warned her, feeling guilty about exposing her to our germs and yet grateful that someone was helping out.

“No, I won’t,” Jenny contradicted me. “I’m disinfecting everything down here, and I’m not coming upstairs just yet. But you do need someone to take care of you all, and there’s nothing much for me to do at Mr. Hunter’s house at the moment anyway, so I might as well make myself useful.”

I shook and shivered and held on to the banister while I finished my short conversation with this domestic gem. “You’ve no idea how much I love you right now. You should be available on the Health Service.”

Jenny flashed me a grin. “You be going back to bed now, young lady. I’ll finish up down here, and I’ll be back to see how you are tomorrow.”

I went back to bed with the children, and we slept through the rest of the day. Dan Skyped us at seven p.m., and I thanked him profusely for sending us help.

“Sophie, love, this is nothing. Jenny is glad to do it. But I so wish I could take care of you myself. I’ve been going mental here.”

Joe’s face appeared behind Dan. “He has, too, and he’s been driving us all up the wall,” he shouted.

“Hiya, Joe.” I waved weakly. The downside of the tablet-Skype-conversation was that Dan was very rarely on his own as he snatched moments at lunchtime or before a show, when the rest of the band was present.

Joe grinned and blew me a kiss. “You’ll be better soon, you’ll see.” He disappeared from view again.

“Sorry about that,” Dan mumbled, but I laughed. Well, I tried to, at any rate, as the laughter turned into a massive coughing fit.

“You sound like you’ve been smoking forty a day,” Dan commented. “Don’t you think it’s time you all saw the doctor?”

“The doctor doesn’t want us anywhere
near
the practice,” I explained, my frustration clearly audible in my voice. “You know what the Health Service is like with flu. If you’re not dying, you stay at home, and don’t bother anyone with your germs.” I coughed again, and Dan grimaced.

“Anyway, I think we’re over the worst. It’s just getting back on our feet now.” I swiveled the tablet around so that Dan could see a peacefully sleeping Emily and Josh.

Dan grinned. “I know it’s grim, but you do look rather cozy back there, all snuggled up together.”

“Yeah, well, it was the easiest way.”

There was a commotion at the other end, and Dan turned away briefly. “I gotta go,” he announced when he faced the camera again. “I’ll call you again later.”

Possibly as a result of Jenny’s good home-cooked food—she had served us chicken soup that day—and the relief of having someone else take charge for a little while, and possibly also as a result of the fevers finally breaking, we had an unbroken night’s sleep that night, and things began to improve gradually.

February bled into March. The kids returned to school, and I returned to work. The incessant rain stopped, and there were signs of spring everywhere. Little crocuses and daffodils were pushing up through the soil, and most days, the sun put in a little appearance in the still-cold blue sky. We had weathered the halfway point of Dan’s absence.

Over in the States, the band had finished recording. The album was released early in March, and naturally, the Jones family received a signed copy by courier before the album hit the shelves. By the time the tour went underway, we had fallen into a comfortable routine of chatting and catching up, sometimes altogether as a family, and sometimes just the adults. Dan sent us pictures and reviews for every show, and even made the occasional clip for us to watch. Meanwhile, the children were invited to birthday parties, and we made plans to spend Easter down in Newquay with my parents. Days whizzed past, and I gathered hope.

Chapter Fifty-One


Please
can I take my Lego police station to Granny and Grandad’s house?” Josh begged for the fifteenth time, looking at me with imploring eyes, and I resisted the urge to snap at him—just. Packing the kids into a car for a two-week holiday with my parents in Newquay was already stressful enough without Josh making continuous left-field demands. I suppressed a sigh and crouched down to bring my face on a level with his.

“Sweetheart, there’s so much stuff to play with at Granny and Grandad’s, I really don’t think you need to take your Lego with you. Plus,” I seized on an inspiration, “you wouldn’t want to lose any pieces, would you? It’s already difficult to keep them together here at home.”

Josh looked crestfallen and my resolve nearly crumbled. “Why don’t you…why don’t you go find Scooby. He would be a good thing to take.” Apart from his addiction to Lego, Scooby Doo was his new major love, and he had been given a cute cuddly toy he wouldn’t be parted from at night.

“Good idea,” Josh agreed and raced off to collect his dog.

I straightened up and turned to pick up our bags to put them in the car. I collided head on with an unexpected solid object.

“Oomph.” The solid object gave an amused gasp and wrapped me in his arms. Fear, confusion, and joy raced through my mind in quick succession as I computed his presence in my house. How? Why?
What?

“Dan!” I couldn’t keep a high-pitched squeal of excitement from my voice. Dan laughed and scooped me off my feet, swinging me around my small kitchen. I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled in.

“What are you doing here?” I mumbled into his chest, hardly believing he was real. His warmth, his scent, his lovely Dan-ness.
Hmmm-hmmm
.

“I thought the tour was going on for another couple of weeks?”

Dan set me down and regarded me with those big eyes of his.

“Aren’t you due in…LA and…New York…and Washington?” I scrabbled to recall the exact schedule, although I had it imprinted on my brain at one point.

“I’ve just come from Washington,” he informed me, “and I’m due in Seattle tomorrow for rehearsal. The next show’s on Monday. But I simply had to come see you.”

I took a closer look at him, noting that he looked a little tired but healthy, with eyes brimming with excitement and…something else. I also clocked his five o’clock shadow and slightly whiffy appearance. “You’re just off the plane?”

Dan nodded.

“Just to see us?”

Dan shook his head. “Not
only
to see you. I’ve come to collect you. You’re coming with me on the rest of the tour.”


Wha—?

I couldn’t finish my question, and no doubt my mouth was hanging open in an unattractive ‘O’, but the children had heard Dan’s voice. Footsteps that sounded like a herd of elephants trampled down the stairs, and within seconds, Emily and Josh were rushing at their godfather, nearly toppling him off his feet. He sat down on the floor and gathered them both in his lap, mischief now dancing in his eyes. He ruffled their hair in response to their many excited exclamations and waited for them to calm down before he launched the killer question.

“How would you two like to come with me and your mummy on an airplane to America and see the rest of my tour?”


Yay!
” Josh jumped to his feet and punched the air, superhero style.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Emily remained on Dan’s lap, but jiggled up and down gleefully.

Dan laughed and clapped his hands. The noise level was astounding.

Joy rose in my heart and brought a lump to my throat. How exciting, how unspeakably thrilling to go on tour with Tuscq again. Possibilities and thoughts jostled for attention. A second tour.
A second chance?

I stamped on that notion hard and fast, and my knees grew weak with confused emotions. I sank into a kitchen chair and wrapped my arms around my chest to hold myself together. Dan watched my every move and gave me an encouraging smile when he saw the fruit machine of thoughts come to a standstill on my face.

“What do you think?”

“Er…” I had to clear my throat before I could speak. Where to start?
How
to start? “That would be lovely and very exciting, but do you really think it’s possible? I mean, the kids are so young…”

“We want to go!” Josh was quick to put a stop to any of my objections on account of their age.

“Want to go,” Emily echoed. Oh heck!

“It’s fine,” Dan reassured me. “It’s absolutely not a problem. Joe and Mick have brought their children on many a tour and—”

“Will Ellen come, with the kids?” I pounced on that idea. I really liked Ellen, and if she was bringing her kids, then that would somehow make it more…okay. My notions of responsible parenting clashed violently with the idea of taking the kids on a rock tour.

Dan shook his head. “They were going to,” he explained. “But James has chicken pox and…”

Enough said; I felt oddly deflated.

“What about Mick’s family?”

“They’ve been out already. They came in the February half-term for a couple of weeks.”

Ah. Well. My mind seized gratefully on the notion that Mick’s kids had gone out to the tour, and that Ellen would have brought hers had it not been for chicken pox. Maybe it was all right. But…

“When? I mean, it’s the school holidays and all, but…When did you imagine this to happen?”

I noticed the kids had gone absolutely quiet, watching our exchange like spectators at a tennis match, eagerly awaiting a positive outcome. Dan moved Emily onto his other leg and shifted his body around slightly. No doubt her increasing weight was killing him, but he never said a word.

“Today,” he said. “Now.”

“What?
” This time, I got the word out whole, even though Emily and Josh erupted into a quick cheer.


Today?
” I repeated incredulously. “But…but…”

Dan grinned at me. “I see you’ve already packed, as it happens, so why not?”

“We’re…we’re going to my parents. Oh God, I can’t just stand them up. They’ll be devastated. They made all these plans…” My heart sank to the boots I wasn’t wearing. I could definitely feel it in my big toe, throbbing away.

“Ring them,” Dan said with an impassive face. “See what they say.”

“But…but…” I sounded like a sick parrot. “Even if they’re okay with it, we have no tickets, no visa…”

Dan shifted his weight again so he could raise an arm off the floor. He scrabbled around in the back pocket of his jeans and whipped out a sheaf of papers.

“Et voilà,” he pronounced with a flourish. “Tickets…” He fanned out three sets of airline tickets in his hands. “And visa waiver forms.” He added three more pieces of paper to the fan.

I must have looked at him completely blankly, because he gave the papers to Josh and said, “Here, bring these to your mummy.” Josh took them carefully and transported them the three steps across the room.

“Mummy, please?” he wheedled as a precautionary measure when he handed me the paperwork. “Please say we can go?”

I waggled my head instead of a response and looked at the documents. There were three tickets, economy class, one in each of our names, to leave from Heathrow for SeaTac International airport.

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