Authors: JS Taylor
“So how about it?” says Adam, taking my hand. “Time for a dance?”
“I’ve never danced a ceili. I don’t know the steps,” I say, nervously taking in the apparent order of the couples.
“Nothing to know,” says Adam. “They shout them out. It’s easy. Come on. You’ll pick it up.”
He drags me into the circle, and before I know it, I’m part of the big lively group. Nieve and Emily are arranged either side of me, with Paul and Dave opposite.
I glance at Adam, still uncertain.
“Summer’s not danced a ceili,” he explains to everyone over the general noise. “So make sure you pick her up on the steps.”
That, apparently, is all the tutorage I’m getting, because suddenly the music strikes up, and everyone links hands.
We follow the music around in a circle, and then the musician shouts out over the music, “swing your partners!” and I find myself grabbed and swung by Adam.
He propels me out forcefully, and I start laughing as I swing, caught up in the general merriment.
“See?” he says, “
Easy!”
Adam releases me back to my place, except now I’m opposite Paul. And the dance starts again, this time, with Paul swinging me around.
Adam’s right, I realise, it’s easy to follow. And I let myself be swung right along the line.
Everyone is beaming, stamping to the beat. And Adam’s Uncle Ron, despite his protests, has more energy than anyone.
We move through several different steps, with Nieve and Adam helping me, where I’m not sure what I’m doing. And after a few rounds I’ve picked it up. And I’m whirling round at the same high speed as everyone else, gasping with laughter.
“This is so much fun!” I announce to Adam, as we circle one another.
“Good,” he replies. “That’s exactly why I brought you here. To see that carefree smile back.”
When the dance ends I’m exhausted and exhilarated. I feel an enormous affection for Adam’s friends, who took great care to ensure I enjoyed the dance.
We retreat to our table and take healthy sips of Guinness, whilst Ron returns to the bar.
“How are you finding the Irish crack?” asks Dave, draining the last of his pint. “Lively enough for you?”
“It’s brilliant,” I say. “I love it. This is much more fun than just getting drunk.”
“Oh we do that too,” says Paul. “Just wait until one in the morning when the whiskey comes out.”
“She won’t be staying that long,” cautions Adam. “Summer has a big day tomorrow.”
“If you’re leaving early,” says Paul. “Then you’d better sing for us now Adam Morgan. Or have you got too famous for us?”
“I’m never too famous for you people,” says Adam. His eyes flick to me. He seems almost nervous. “But I think I’ll save the singing for another night.”
He stands before anyone can protest.
“My round,” he announces. “Who’s for another pint?”
“He used to sing here?” I ask, as Adam disappears to the bar. I’m thinking how similar this sounds to my own musical training. Using the karaoke in my local pub.
Dave nods, up-ending the last of his pint.
“Adam used to sing Irish folk songs,” he says. “He’d have us all in floods of tears.”
I remember the song he sang for Ben, in the hospital. But that was an upbeat song.
“They were sad songs?” I confirm.
Paul nods.
“We all knew,” he said, “that Adam was destined for big things. He’d make grown men cry, with just the power of his voice.”
Paul considers his empty pint glass philosophically.
“Adam always had an ability, to take that deep sadness from his own life, and make you feel it, in his singing,” he adds.
“I guess Adam has a lot of sadness in his life?” I probe, feeling my way. It’s occurred to me I might be able to find out more about Adam’s past from his friends.
“Well, the stuff that happened with his brother, you know,” says Paul. “That’s a thing that doesn’t just leave you.”
There’s a loud cough, and I look up to see Adam, clutching several pints of Guinness.
Paul takes his pint, and seems to see something in Adam’s eye which makes him stop talking.
“Here’s to Summer and Adam,” he announces, instead. “May you have many happy years together.”
Chapter 35
The rest of the night passes in a whirl of drink and dance. And I’m having such a good time, I’m reluctant to leave, as the clock edges ever later.
Eventually though, Adam insists we head home – much to the protests of his friends – and after fond goodbyes, we
leave.
From the way Adam guides me purposely out of the pub I’ve got a feeling he has more on his mind than a good night’s sleep.
We arrive back at Adam’s apartment at midnight, and he seems suddenly thoughtful. Despite having a great time with his friends in the pub, I sense that seeing them brings up old memories.
“Do you always see your friends and uncle when you come to London?” I ask.
Adam nods.
“They keep me real, you know?” he says. “It’s good to have friends who knew you before you were famous. A lot of celebrities surround themselves with a bunch of arse-kissers.”
I smile at the description.
“Does it make you sad?” I ask, feeling a little bolder after a few pints of Guinness.
Adam glances at me, as if slightly surprised by my discernment.
“Maybe a little,” he admits after a moment. “I was very different when I first came here. Very young. I had a lot on my mind.”
I hesitate, wondering if now is the time to ask about his brother. But he moves in close to me, and puts both arms around me.
“But I’ve a lot on my mind now too,” he says, his eyes darkening.
“Oh really?”
Somehow, I can guess what.
“Oh yes,” he says, planting a lazy trail of kisses along my neck. “I can’t stop wondering what you look like, under these clothes.”
“I thought you looked recently,” I murmur, tipping my head back to absorb the tingle of his mouth.
“I’ve got a bad memory,” he says, sliding off my top, and brushing his hands across my bra. “I need to remind myself.”
He unhooks my bra, letting it fall to the floor. Then his fingers trace lightly over my nipples. I feel them harden at his touch.
Slowly, he walks me backwards into the bedroom, caressing my breasts and midriff.
Then he unzips my skirt and lets it fall.
There’s something so gentle about his movements, that I’m desperate to touch him.
“Wait,” I murmur, unbuttoning his jeans. “I want to undress you too.”
He groans as I slide my hand into the opening of his fly, feeling his hardness.
Then I reach up, pulling off his T-shirt, exposing his muscular chest and running my hands over it.
I glance at his face, and there’s something so vulnerable there.
A deep love for him surges up. I touch my lips to his mouth, putting my whole heart into the kiss.
He responds urgently, pushing forward into me, grabbing me tight.
“Wait,” I admonish, pulling back a little. He’s breathing hard. But I’m loving the sudden control I have.
Slowly, I remove his jeans and run my hand over the erection straining in his boxers.
He groans again. And then before I can stop him, he’s lifted me up and carried me to the bed.
Adam lays me out, running his hands over my naked body.
Hmmmm. I like gentle Adam.
His lips make a path from my neck to my breasts. And then his hand is between my legs.
“You’re so wet,” he whispers approvingly.
His fingers slide softly into me, and I cry out. He builds on the motion, sliding in and over me, tracing a tantalising path.
Then he’s above me, rolling on a condom. And I feel his hardness between my legs.
My arms reach around him, pulling him close. And as his eyes meet mine, my soul seems to surge up to meet him.
Adam groans, moving inside me, filling me up. I’m breathing hard, taking him all in. The soft movements. The way he seems to be loving me with his body.
It’s almost too much.
He’s moving gently, but somehow it’s so much deeper than he’s ever been before. I feel as though my entire body is melded to his. Like I belong to him.
Slowly, he takes my body with his, with long considered movements, making the moment last.
“I love you,” I whisper, as he moves inside of me.
He blue eyes deepen into mine.
“I love you,” he replies, moving his body intently, building me up.
His hands stroke along my face, brushing over my lips, and then his mouth is on mine. And in that kiss, our worlds seem to explode together.
I feel my body expanding, glowing, reaching new heights of pleasure. And this time, as I orgasm with him inside me, it feels different. Deeper. More powerful than anything I’ve felt before.
My lips move with Adam’s, taking him with me, and I feel him climax, long and deep, sighing aloud.
I lie beneath him, breathing hard, trying to take in the depth of our love-making. Adam’s blue eyes are on mine, soaking me in.
“That felt different,” he says. “Stronger.”
I nod, letting the wash of pleasure seep through me.
“It was making love,” I say simply.
Adam kisses my lips gently.
“Then I plan on making love to you a lot,” he says.
Chapter 36
The next morning Adam drops me off early at the house, so I can get in plenty of rehearsal time with Tammy and George.
I’m confid
ent that with a full day ahead of us, we can nail this tune, and I’m humming to myself, as I enter the house and ascend the stairs.
But as I open the door to the bedroom, I get the sense that something is wrong.
George isn’t here. And Tammy is sat with her back to me on the bed, her shoulders bowed.
Did George and Tammy
row?
On hearing the door Tammy turns slowly. Her eyes are red, like she’s been crying, and they narrow when they see me.
“Tammy?” I say quietly. “What’s wrong?”
In answer, she holds up a crumpled letter.
It takes me a full few seconds to realise what she’s holding. And then my stomach lurches.
It’s the letter I wrote
. Saying I was going solo. When Dez was threatening me.
I have no idea how Tammy got it. But I know almost immediately how she will be taking this.
I try to explain myself anyway.
“Tams,” I begin, “Dez was threatening me…”
But Tammy suddenly erupts.
“I
knew
this would happen,” she shrieks, in a half sob. “How
could
you Summer? I thought George would desert us. But you?”
“Tams,” I say gently.
“Just shut up Summer!” she rages. “This is the worst betrayal. How could you agree that George was betraying us, when you’d already written this?”
“I…”
“Those bitches from Scandelous found it,” she adds. “They must have been going through our things. So you can imagine how pleased they were to show this letter to me and George.”
“It’s not what you think,” I protest. “Really Tammy, it’s not.”
“Just tell me one thing,” says Tammy, “and don’t fucking lie to me. When you wrote this letter, did you mean to leave and go solo?”
There’s a long pause, whilst I try and think of the best way to put the cold truth.
“Yes,” I begin, “but…”
“But
nothing
!” shouts Tammy, cutting me off. “We’re supposed to be in it together, remember? No matter what!”
“I had no choice,” I say, “Dez was threatening me.”
“You always have a choice to be loyal,” says Tammy. Her voice is darker than I’ve ever heard it. “You could have told me. We would have figured it out.”
“I wasn’t thinking straight,” I admit. “It was never seriously meant.”
“But serious enough to write it down in a letter?’ fumes Tammy. “Don’t fucking bother to explain Summer. I’m through. I’ve already told George I’m never working with her again.”
She stands and stalks past me towards the door.
“She’s All That are over,” she says, sobs rising up. “If you wanted to go solo, you’ve got it.”
“Tams!” I grab her shoulder but she wrenches out of my grasp, and strides out of the door.
“Don’t you
dare
fucking follow me,” she hisses, as a parting shot. “I never want to see you again.”
I stand open
-mouthed as Tammy stamps down the stairs and out of the front door. And then she’s gone.
I hesitate in the doorway, wanting to run after her. But I know Tammy. If I follow her when she’s asked me not to, it won’t go down well.
So the first thing I do, is send her a string of texts, apologising and trying to explain. Then I call George, but there’s no answer. I call Tammy ten times consecutively, but she doesn’t answer either.
Shit.
I have to arrive at the obvious conclusion.
My band-mates are freezing me out. And we’ve got a show together in under eight hours.
Shit!
I need to speak to Adam.
My hands are shaking as I phone him and explain the situation. Adam listens intently as I sob down the phone, feeling suddenly overwhelmed with hopelessness. After all the events of the week, this is just too much.
“Let me try and talk to them,” says Adam eventually, after offering words of comfort. “I’m sure they’ll come around.”
“Really?” I feel instantly better at the offer. “That would be great. I’m sure they’ll listen to you.”
A spring of hope is welling up.
Surely Tammy will listen to Adam?
“We’ll see,” he says.
Adam rings off, and I wait a tense few minutes.
Tammy has to come around. She has to.
I’m aware that every second that passes is precious rehearsal time slipping away.
My phone rings and I jump to answer. Adam’s name flashes up.
I connect the call, almost dropping the phone in my haste.
“Summer,” he says slowly. “I’m sorry. It’s not good news.”
“What did she say?” I demand, needing to know the worst.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you at the moment,” he replies, and I can tell he’s being tactful. “There’s no reasoning with her for the time being,” he continues. “I don’t know if she’ll come around later…”
But the tone of his voice says it all. Tammy isn’t forgiving me any time soon.
“I’m coming over,” he continues. “We need to work on your performance.”
What?
“But…” I stammer. “There is no performance without George and Tammy.”
“Your performance,” he says calmly. “You’ll have to sing alone.”
“I can’t. Not without the girls,” I protest.
“If you want to stay on the show, you’ll have to,” he replies. “I can arrange things to give you a solo slot. It won’t be easy. But it’s the best I can do. I can’t hold a space for anyone if there’s no performance Summer.”
Performing alone.
All my life I’ve loved taking centre stage. But suddenly the thought fills me with
dread.
How can I perform without George and Tammy? I’d be betraying them.
“What about George?” I press. “Did you speak to her?”
Maybe George can persuade Tammy to forgive me.
There’s a pause.
“George has already contacted a lawyer about breaking the contract,” says Adam bluntly. “I don’t know if she’ll change her mind. But it won’t be for tonight’s show.”
I feel my world silently imploding.
“But… Our song,” I say pathetically. “It needs three people.” It’s the only thing I can think to say.
“You can sing it,” replies Adam confidently.
“Not without George and Tammy.” I feel my voice rising hysterically. “We’re a group.”
“Summer,” says Adam. “You can do this. I’m coming over. I’ll help.”
I’m a bundle of nerves as Adam arrives. I’ve tried calling Tammy and George again, but there’s no answer. I still haven’t lost hope that they might change their minds and forgive me. If only I can explain things properly.
Adam walks right up to me and hugs me tight. I’m instantly calmer.
“Lisa’s coming over,” he murmurs into my hair. “We’re going to coach you for a solo performance.”
“Lisa? She’d do that?” I’m amazed. “Has she got time?”
I’m feeling a bud of confidence grow. If Lisa is prepared to help, perhaps I can put a solo performance together after all.
“Of course Lisa will help,” he says, kissing my hair. “I explained it’s an emergency.” He sighs. “I don’t think you realise how talented you are Summer. All the serious musicians are rooting for you. That includes Lisa.”
“Oh,” it’s all I can think of to say. “I can’t believe she’d do that for me,” I add sincerely. “I’m so grateful.”
“She’s doing it for me as well,” admits Adam. “I told Lisa. About us.”
“You did?”
“I think she knew,” says Adam. “Don’t you?”
“Maybe,” I concede. I remember Lisa’s knowing reference to Adam, the last time she helped us rehearse.
“So she’s helping me out as a favour to you?”
“Lisa knows how much I care for you,” says Adam simply. “We’re friends. She wants to help.”
“That’s really nice of her,” I say uncertainly.
Adam glances at my terrified face.
“You’ll be fine,” he adds. “You’ll see.”
“Ok,” I whisper. “Do I have any other choices?”
Adam shrugs. “You could pull out of the show. But I don’t think you want to do that.”
I shake my head slowly. After everything that’s happened to get us here. I don’t want to forfeit our place. And who’s to say Tammy and George won’t change their minds? If not this evening, then for the next show? I need to keep the place for them if I can.
“Ok,” says Adam. “Enough talking. Let’s get you ready for a solo performance.”
Adam and I begin setting up equipment together, and planning what will be included.
I decide I’d like to take a guitar on stage – partly as a defence mechanism. It’s comforting to have the instrument shielding my body. But I also know it will calm me to strum my own chords as I sing.
Adam and I are busying ourselves with
a makeshift stage when there’s a shy knock at the door.
“Come in,” calls Adam without looking up.
It opens slowly and Lisa steps inside.
“Hi,” I say shyly.
“Hello Summer,” says Lisa. She looks at me with sympathy, and then moves to give me a warm hug.
She is so nice.
“I heard what happened,” says Lisa, drawing back. “I’m sorry. It’s shitty when bands argue. But you’ll do a great job solo. Maybe they’ll be back with you next week.”
I smile at her comforting words.
“In the meantime,” she adds, Adam and I will help you rehearse. She gives me a warm smile. “You’ll be great. Better than great.”
With Adam and Lisa both here to help, the idea of performing tonight seems less insurmountable.
I manage a weak smile.
“Thank you both so much,” I say with feeling.
“Never mind that,” says Lisa, her tone brisk. “We don’t have much time. Let’s get this performance ready.”