The Final Note (DJ Series Book 1) (22 page)

The next three months pass in a depressive blur. My parents actually force me into going to see the doctor because it becomes apparent that besides keeping down a job I’m doing nothing else. I stop running, I’m barely eating and I’m barely surviving.

Corrine and the girls insist I attend the odd girly night. They’re very careful not to mention Dayton but just being with them reminds me of our many nights out with him. Even if people want to act like he is dead, I can’t. I’ve taken to stalking his Facebook profile and even though he rarely updates his status I see him tagged by other people daily.

In recent pictures I’ve seen him in the huge recording studio with Jimmy and various other people. He looks well. As gorgeous as ever. He has kept some designer stubble and let his hair grow into a slightly floppy mass. It’s started to curl a little around his ears and around his collar.

He’s been tagged in pictures with Evan in the club. Mary, Liz and Taylor often post on his wall, as well as many others who openly flirt with him. He goes into typical Dayton mode where he is polite but doesn’t reply to the flirtations. I can’t keep battling off the mental image of him in the studio with a sexy blond receptionist bringing him drinks. The thought brings bile to my throat.

I question why I battled Regina and all her shit so hard when it all came to nothing. For me anyway, for Dayton it all worked out. He is living the dream, the Facebook pictures are proof and the news that one of his recent tracks hit the number one spot in the most popular EDM chart. I’m happy for him, I’m just in pain for me. I wallow in self-pity.

Only a week after he left a man unknown to me came to the house, a set of keys in his hand and some paperwork.

“Alannah? I’m Terry Scott, Dayton’s father.”

I literally slip down off of the step from the threshold, only the doorframe keeping me upright. My engrained manners finally kick in and I greet him with a smile, shaking his hand.

“Dayton asked me to return these to you. It was a pleasure to restore and I understand it holds sentimental value, so thank you for letting me work on it.” Terry smiles, putting the keys in my hand and I hold them, frowning and wondering what the hell he is on about.

“Sorry, Terry, but what are these?”

He passes me the log book with a smile. “The documents for the Fiesta. It’s as good as factory standard, I hope you’ll enjoy driving it again?”

I literally feel my legs turn to jelly when I look out onto the street and see Phil sat behind my Focus, sure enough he looks brand new, his paintwork shining in the afternoon sun.

“Oh, dear lord. Is that my car?” I whisper and Terry nods with a smile.

“The one and only. Dayton bought it off eBay, he knew I’d enjoy working on it, it’s a little pastime of mine, restoring cars. He paid for all the parts to repair it then asked me to return it to you. It’s all finished now and has a full year of MOT, ready to go. Enjoy, Alannah.” Terry cheers before shaking my hand but I’m too distracted and utterly surprised to give him a coherent reply. I’m too busy looking from the car to the keys and trying to get my head around what Dayton and Terry did for me.

That night I rang Dayton to thank him but my appreciation soon turned into a heartbreaking conversation about how we missed one another. I fought to keep my tears in check, trying to convince him I was coping but I really wasn’t. I still haven’t been able to bring myself to actually drive Phil and the constant reminder of Dayton’s surprise got too painful to see every morning so Dad has put the Fiesta in the garage, until I feel strong enough to actually sit in the driver’s seat again. I’ve considered letting Dad give it to Coby, once he passes his test, but a selfish part of me couldn’t offer him the car. Not because Dad bought it for me, but because Dayton loved me enough to have the old banger restored for me.

He has reached out to me a couple of times, usually when he’s just got in from the club in the early hours and probably had too much to drink. His messages still hurt though when he tells me he can’t get me out of his mind and that he still wishes I would reconsider. I’ve always replied with messages assuring him he’s doing the right thing and that he has to let go of the past and embrace his bright future. That I’m fine here and loving my new job. I’m great. Pfft, one look at a recent picture of me would prove how full of shit I am. It’s been four weeks since I had direct contact with him and I know it’s his birthday and our friends planned a surprise visit.

Corrine was so hesitant about asking me along but I told her resolutely that no, I wasn’t going. I’ve questioned my judgement so many times since and now that I know they’re there and probably partying hard in Sphinx I regret not going. I’m just trying to get sucked into a new novel I bought on instinct because I’ve always been a fan of the author but even she can’t reach me right now.

My phone wakes me on Sunday morning and I can barely open a gritty eye to see the clock. 6 o’clock in the morning! Who the fuck is this waking me on a day off, and at this time. “What?” I grump down the line, not giving a damn who it is, this is criminal behaviour on a Sunday.

“Hey, sugar.”

I sit upright in bed before I can even open my leaded eyes. I gasp audibly and my heart breaks into a gallop just hearing his voice. The line is silent and a slow smile breaks out across my face, a genuine one. The first one in weeks, months.

“Happy birthday, babe. Have you been partying hard for me?”

I hear him chuckle and it still makes my insides quiver. “Thank you and yeah, I’m partying way too hard. Why aren’t you?”

“How do you know I’m not?”

“Because you’re not here.” The words hang in the air and I don’t know how to respond.

“Did you have fun?” I try to divert the question.

“Not as much as I would have had if you were here. I was gutted when they all walked in without you.”

“Dayton, please don’t. You’ve just had too much to drink.”

“So what? Isn’t there an old saying about a drunk speaks with a sober heart or summat shit?” He chuckles.

“Okay, I’m sorry I didn’t come down to see you.”

“Me, too. I miss your smile. I miss us. We were good, weren’t we, Alannah?” His voice is quiet and I lay back down in bed, pulling the bedding around me for comfort.

“We were,” I admit and I hear him sigh. “So, tell me about work, how’s it going? I’ve heard your latest track, it’s amazing. When does it go on sale?”

“It’s going on the next Epic album before it goes out as a single. Jimmy really loves it.”

We chat easily and I enjoy the easy banter. He tells me about some of the nights out he’s been on and how different life is in London. The pace of life is on fast forward apparently and the whole city seems to be in a constant rush. He says it can get exhausting and he misses things in Manchester sometimes. He misses his family, our friends, but most of all he misses me.

He tells me about some of the plans the club has for big Christmas events in just twelve weeks. I can’t believe how long he has been in Clerkenwell already. More surprising is the fact that I’m still breathing without him. Okay, so maybe it’s the happy pills the doctor has me on that keep me going but I’m here, aren’t I? I’m not quite as dead as I predicted I would be after twelve weeks without Dayton. There isn’t a day gone by without me thinking about him though, feeling the void in my chest that only he can fill.

Before I know it the clock reads 8 o’clock and I realise we’ve been chatting about random crap for two hours already. I hate that I don’t want to end the call. It’s been weeks since I heard his voice and for all I know it could be weeks again before I hear his voice next. Just before we say goodbye Corrine hijacks the phone from him and drunkenly jabbers on about what an amazing night I missed and the size of the birthday cake Mark had made for Dayton and a food fight they had on the water beds in the chill out area.

I listen to her yakking on about how fabulous everything was before I tell her I have to go find food. She doesn’t put me back on the phone to Dayton and swiftly says goodbye before she hangs up on me. I drop my phone onto the floor feeling deflated. I pull the quilt over my head wanting to bury my head in the sand and forget any of them exist but my phone chimes with a text so I poke my arm out from under the covers, feeling around on the floor until I find the phone. Pulling it under the covers I see it’s from Dayton and smile to myself opening it.

I’m sorry your demented friend put the phone down before I got to say goodbye. It was amazing to hear your voice. Will you find a track for me? Lady Antebellum –Need You Now. It reminds me of you. Please listen to it? I still love you. Xxx

I waste no time and jump straight on YouTube. The lyrics of the song hit every raw nerve. It screams of two people separated that need each other so much it’s painful. I well up for the first time in weeks. The video ends and I flick back to my messages to reply.

I need you, too. Your voice is a soothing balm. Whenever you need me most, just call. I still love you, too, so much. Xxx

He doesn’t respond and I assume he has finally crashed after his Epic birthday celebrations. I watch the video over and over until I fall back to sleep, but not before setting it as my ringtone.

That night I am trying to distract myself with some crap TV but nothing is working. I’ve soaked in a bubble bath and put on my pink Spongebob Squarepants onesie. I’ve played annoying games on Facebook and even sorted through my CD collection. Now I’m bored and blue. It’s just after 10 o’clock when I give up with the TV and flick the television off, laying in silence replaying my conversation with Dayton over in my head for the millionth time.

I hear a car pull up outside and for a minute I think it sounds like Dayton’s Evo but I know my mind has played these tricks on me before. I reread his text message and feel my heart swell to know he still loves me. Then I hear a knock at the front door and frown. I get up and go to the window.

My stomach falls and my heart jumps when I see Dayton’s Evo. It simply can’t be him. He’s in Clerkenwell. I hear Mum answer the door. “Wow. Hi, Dayton. How are you, dear?”

“I’m great now I’m home, thanks. Can I see Alannah, please?”

I’m gorping out of the bedroom window like a dribbling idiot when Mum calls upstairs. I descend the stairs in a disbelieving trance, sure I’ve fallen to sleep and I’m going to wake to find I’m sleepwalking. Sure enough I reach the bottom of the stairs as Mum goes through to the living room, I turn and see Dayton standing on the doorstep, his arm bracing the doorframe.

“Oh, my days. What a spin out. What the fluff are you doing here?” I ask, still looking like a lobotomised idiot. One smile from Dayton and I’m reduced to a swooning fan girl.

“Happy birthday to me. I thought I deserved a treat after working so hard. So I treated myself, to you.”

I burst into peels of near frantic laughter. My manners give me a mental slap and I invite him inside. I offer him a drink but he declines and when he steps closer to me I look up into his milky blues and offer him my hand, guiding him upstairs to my room. I’m barely through the door before he pushes it closed behind us and pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me.

“This is probably the best birthday on record now,” he whispers, resting his forehead against mine and I inhale deeply. His scent does wicked things to me. It comforts me, yet provokes so many memories. He pushes my hair back behind my ears before cupping my face and I close my eyes in anticipation of his kiss. His lips are better than I remember, so soft and warm. I kiss him back, needing to taste him and feel him, just to verify that this isn’t some dream coming true, that he is actually here. Sure enough he is there and for the first time in months I breathe easily. That nagging deep pain, that hurt that had taken up residence in my chest, unknots and unwinds. I feel it float from me, my heart beating in its natural rhythm for the first time since he left. I feel free.

His hands knot into my hair, holding my head in place so he can feast on my mouth and I feel tears of happiness well up in my eyes. I smile through our kiss, gripping his jacket to hold him tight. Now he is here I have to keep him. I can’t let him go again. My shattered soul has been repaired and the happy pills are no longer needed, Dayton is the drug I need to feel like me again.

“Stay with me tonight?” His request is whispered against my mouth, spoken in bursts between kisses. I instinctively start to nod. Then I realise this is only a temporary respite. I stop the kiss and try to pull back a little.

“Dayton, we can’t do this. I can’t torture myself more, when you leave I break,” I stammer but he refuses to let go of my face and is shushing me, shaking his head.

“No, no. Alannah, I’m going nowhere. I’m coming home.”

“What? Dayton, you can’t. You need to be at Epic Records.”

“I’m right where I need to be. Here, with you. Sugar, I’m going to work for Epic from home. Everything is going to be fine. Don’t worry, just come home with me?” he pleads and I’m still trying to take in what he just said.

“But how? You can’t be here and still work for Mark.”

“I can, anytime I want but right now all I want is to be in Manchester. I’ve made arrangements, baby. Mark and Jimmy are happy for me to produce from the studios here and I can play at Sphinx any weekend of the month. It’s all taken care of.”