The Unexpected Life of Carnegie Lane (11 page)

BOOK: The Unexpected Life of Carnegie Lane
13.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Carnegie Lane knew that soon enough, her girls would find redemption for their mistake and come up happier than they had been in a long time for it. She also knew that if she had been them at the time, she would have done the exact…same…thing.

Katalie Bowman had the phone call of her life. One of the major publishers was more than interested in the book. In fact, they loved it. She rounded off her conversation, and went straight down to the office of her boss. This was it. The book had a home, and Kat had her first deal off the ground. Today was a good day.

“Ross, “
Impossible Things
” got an offer, a really good one. I did it!” She said excitedly, forgetting to knock.

He looked up from his paperwork and smiled. He had read the story, and knew it wouldn’t take long.

“So, Miss Bowman. I think drinks are on me. What do you say? Let’s take the afternoon off and go to the pub.” He sat back in his chair, and put his hands comfortably behind his head.

He was genuinely happy for her. He knew she was ready to make this work, and it was in his best interest he let her try. The world of publishing was beginning to change and right now, it needed fresh young minds with enthusiasm. Minds that were still flexible enough to move with the times and use the internet social networking in their favor.

“I would say, it’s a date, let me get my bag.”

Katalie left his office, happy to be getting the afternoon off and the opportunity to pick Ross’s brain, all in her own time.

Carnegie Lane moved the last of the reluctant out the front door and slowly down towards the bus stop. She had a house to clean and like no day before it, she was determined to get it perfect. Once inside, she prepared herself, and beginning with ‘
The Edge of the Deep Green Sea
’ one of her favorite Cure songs and three hours later ending with ‘
Plainsong
’. She rocked her world into domestic perfection, aided and abetted by her favorite band.

She stopped for coffee, and decided to email Nate and thank him. He had made her happy. Someone she had never met was right now giving her more joy than she believed possible.

-----Original Message-----
From: Carnegie Lane ([email protected])
To: Nate ([email protected])
Sent: Thurs, July 7, 2010 12:15 pm
Subject: RE: Good news and Better News just for you
Hi Nate,
Where do I begin, to say thank you. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, or for my girls. They are really sorry, and right now, believe your concert is about to be salt on an already festering wound. They do have an interesting way with words.
Tell me, what’s your favorite song? You must have one, other than one of your own. Where are you staying when you are here in Bundaberg? If there is anything that I can do to help, let me know I will be happy to assist if I can. Well I’m off before I bore you with my ramblings of nothing. Have a great day. Enjoy Italy! See you soon.
Carnegie x

She decided to quit while she was ahead, before she said something fan orientated and stupid. There had to be common ground found here at some time, something that formed a link, something that could continue this friendship without her feeling like she was below it. She would love to pick his brain about his career, it was something, more than anything, she had wanted. It was a dream that ended when she woke up married and with four children running around her feet.

It wasn’t that she regretted any of it, she just had a huge resource of untapped creativity that needed to get out. It was buried deep and with the book, it had come to the surface of her life, promising change.

It was four in the morning when Nate Bowman heard his blackberry beep at him. He wasn’t asleep as usual. In fact, he had not long been home. Earlier in the night he attended an industry event with the members of his band and a few other visiting celebrities. It was full of local Italian starlets and socialites. He was photographed in his Armani Jacket with a beautiful model on his arm, just as they had wanted him to be. The free advertising was priceless to them.

He smiled for the myriad of cameras and paparazzi that had all gathered like wolves out the front of the venue. Later, when his driver took him back to his hotel, they had followed. Most were maniacs on the road, none of them prepared to lose the entourage that accompanied him wherever he went. His driver knew the drill and drove carefully, surrounded by the ruthlessness of the cameramen, all cutting in and out of traffic in a hazardous way. They were vying for that perfect shot, the one where he looked directly at their camera, as if he was posing just for them. The full length, unobstructed picture that could tell any headline story they chose to give it.

Some of the photographers had gone ahead and would meet him out the front of his hotel. All would be hoping to get another shot of him and praying for an exclusive. If they were going to get the headline, they needed it from every angle. He was used to it, although, sometimes he was too tired to play their game. Now was one of those times.

He hated being banged around, grabbed and pushed. The flashes were relentless... Strangers were calling his name as if they were old friends. Occasionally one would sound like a friend and he would turn, accidently offering them the exclusive they could sell to their tabloid papers and magazines. One single photo of Nate Bowman was worth roughly $300.00 and that was without an interesting story to accompany it.

If there was a scandal, or speculation of one, a girlfriend, or just some new activity surrounding his life and preferably in a negative light, it would go up to thousands. It was the way it was in the industry he had chosen to be a part of. Even with the paparazzis’ relentless presence, he loved the fact that he could do whatever he wanted and there was nothing anyone in the world could say or do that would change his mind. Nate Bowman was living the dream. Yet the reality was that dreams have the potential to become nightmares, ones that eventually fade away but only when a new story hits the limelight.

He picked up his phone and read the email. It made him smile that she offered to help. He wondered if she had any idea what it was she could do. He sighed and closed his eyes. Who was Carnegie Lane? Why had she had such an impact on him? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already met some of the most amazing people in the world. This was a single mother, with four kids. She was broke and she was tired. The difference was, she held no expectation of him, she wasn’t even a fan. She was not competing with him on any level, nor did she need him.

Carnegie was an Author who had written a book, one that he could relate to, a story that had resonated with him. She lived a relatively simple life, which was something he had forfeited a long time ago. He felt connected to her, but why? How?

He also knew that he had promised to keep his distance and not interrupt the process his sister was setting up now in relation to her work. He broke that promise the moment he decided to go to Bundaberg and perform the concert. He would deal with his sister later about that, and hopefully it would attract no adverse attention. Nate was in a reflective mood. He sent her a reply, not really knowing what she would say in response. He just had words he needed to say and like her, he needed an uncomplicated friendship. One that allowed him the insight into a life he had chosen not to live. One that allowed her into a world she never believed was hers to want. Now was as good a time as any to begin exploring it.

-----Original Message-----
From: Nate ([email protected])
To: Carnegie Lane ([email protected])
Sent: Thurs, July 7, 2010 4:45 am
Subject: RE: Good news and Better News just for you
Hey you,
You don’t need to thank me, I’m happy to come, it’s about time I did something different. Besides, don’t want any festering wounds around do we.
Favorite song, well that’s a tough one. Music, as you have guessed is my entire world, so there’s lots of them that allowed me to dream. “
Telegraphy Road
”, by Dire Straits, well that one made me want to learn to play guitar. “
Home by the Sea
” by Genesis, Phil Collins has a way of bringing music and lyrics to life. The Cure, well they go without saying, I believe we share that mutual passion, as does half the world.
I think if I go for the song that stands out in my life the most, that holds the greatest memory. It has to be Romeo and Juliet, off the Dire Straits Making Movies Album. I’m sure that’s part of your collection. It’s like the Police, if it’s not then it should be.
Favorite song of all time, is a song called “
Roads
” by Portishead. Wow, now that takes me back.
So, there’s not a lot of my life that you can’t discover, by surfing the internet, and reading the right bio, what about yours? What made you write that book, what inspired the words as they came? If it’s your first book, how did you get it so right? What makes you happy? What’s your favorite song?
I look forward to the answers. Now, for me, it’s time to attempt sleep. It’s been a long night.
Nate xx

That email didn’t have to wait long before she opened it. She was in her room, looking at her wardrobe with horror when it came in. Carnegie was mortified at the reality she would have to use her credit card and spend money, purchasing new clothes, not only for her, but for the kids, since this was going to be a special event for them all. Mostly, she believed it was for her girls. They were on the edge of the beginning of their lives. A time she remembered well and to this day, a period in her own life she refused to let go of. The precious moments of being not quite a child, yet, not old enough for life to become a burden.

There wasn’t one band mentioned in that email from Nate she didn’t already have in her extensive collection and love. She pulled out her “
Dummy
” CD by Portishead, and put on “
Roads
”, which was also a favorite of hers. She had so much music, she almost forgot about it, lost in the memory of her past. She now absorbed it, straight back into the core of her DNA, all the music that set her free so long ago.

Lying on her bed, the words sank in, going around and round in her mind. It was interesting for her to remember moments, lying in a bed with her husband and listening to the lyrics of this song, as if Beth Gibbons, the lead singer was talking straight to her soul. No matter how much she curled herself up into his arms, it felt wrong.

Their moment of being happy - if that’s what it was just a moment - was following the underground and original rock scene around Sydney. Not pretending to be ordinary and upper class people living a life that secretly made them both miserable. She remembered the nights crammed into their bed, with the twins on either side of her, her husband pushed to the wasteland edges hanging on by a sheet and tears in her eyes as those babies cried a little, thinking…How can it feel…this wrong.


Oh, can't anybody see

We've got a war to fight

Never found our way

Regardless of what they say

How can it feel, this wrong

From this moment

How can it feel, this wrong”

Words to a song, or words in a book, no matter how great, or how tragic, have one thing in common. They have been written by someone who had the emotion to think them in the first place. Every word Carnegie Lane put on paper came from a place she recognized somehow belonged to her. The words carried the intense and absolute need to be loved, to belong to someone.

It is fact that even the greatest writer can only draw from the knowledge of feelings that live deep within them. Love songs and love stories display the inner most secrets of someone’s soul. When you put that down on paper, knowing exactly from the depths of your soul where it came from and be honest, you allow it to flow without ego stepping in to guide it. The words will be drawn to you. The love story becomes poetry and the poet sends the message on the wind to attract the ones it was meant for. Like a birdsong.

How long it takes for them to hear that song, depends on the strength of the intense want. Like the words in
Roads
, it found her wanting more, and it allowed her to explore what she was thinking at the time.

Exploring the song again now, allowed her to remember that even way back then, something in her world wasn’t working. She just had a great way of denying it to everyone around her, especially, to herself.

Other books

Sertian Princess by Peter Kenson
End of East, The by Lee, Jen Sookfong
You're Still the One by Rachel Harris
3531 by Black, John
A Breach of Promise by Victoria Vane
Earth by Berengaria Brown
Bitter Eden by Salvato, Sharon Anne
A Mom for Callie by Laura Bradford