Page 20

20

LONDON, 1986

The last four weeks have been as surreal as they’ve been testing, the juxtaposition of what’s been happening outside the house with the turmoil of watching her mother’s slow deterioration ripping Nicole’s emotions to shreds and scattering them in opposite directions.

How is she supposed to feel? How is she supposed to imagine what next week will bring, if she can’t predict what will happen tomorrow? So much feels up in the air, like she’s living in an unenviable limbo but where there’s only one possible outcome. Is it any wonder, then, that every time she’s with Ben, she’s consumed not only with the guilt of forgoing precious time with her mum, but the constant fear of Cassie finding out that the man staring out at her from her bedroom wall is so much closer than she thinks.

But now that Nicole has temporarily moved back home, she needs space to breathe, and spending time with Ben, writing songs and making music, allows her to do that.

“I didn’t know you were such a prolific songwriter,” she says, struggling to hide her emotions as he plays her a new song in the studio she’s come to feel surprisingly comfortable in. The meaningful words and soulful voice sound as if they belong to one of the Motown artists her mother used to listen to.

“Do you like it?” he asks, looking at her with nervous trepidation. “Honestly?”

“It’s amazing! Have you recorded it?”

He shakes his head. “I’m trying to convince management to release it as our next single, but there’s some… resistance, shall we say?”

“Who from?”

He laughs, but there’s an uneasy edge to it. “The management aren’t sure that it sets the tone of a Secret Oktober record. They think it’s too melancholy and grown-up for our audience. I keep telling them that they’re underestimating the angst of a teenage mind.”

“But that line, ‘ Look at those before you, to know who you want to become ’ will sing to the hearts of thirteen- and fourteen-year-old girls all over the country.”

Ben shrugs his shoulders despondently. “But it’s not just management I have to convince. Other band members aren’t exactly ecstatic that I’m writing my own songs either.”

“Why wouldn’t they want that?” asks Nicole, knowing that to date the band’s music had been penned by a hit-factory production team. It had led to the snobby music press labeling their records as just another tune on the conveyor belt of mediocre. “Surely it’s a good thing.”

“There’s a lot of stuff that the public don’t get to see,” he says, his eyes downcast. “And a lot of it would surprise you.”

“Like what?” Nicole can’t help but ask.

“Well, life is not always easy with Michael. He has to be carefully managed and everyone walks on eggshells around him, not wanting to upset him. So, when he says he’s not happy with something, people tend to listen.”

“And he doesn’t like that song?” she asks, unable to understand how anyone can fail to recognize its potential.

“Oh, he loves the song! He just doesn’t like the fact that I wrote it.”

“So, he’d rather the band lose out on a great song than see you get the credit for it?”

“That’s about the sum of it,” says Ben.

“How has it come to this? I’d assumed you were all as thick as thieves.”

“We used to be, when we first formed the band,” he says sadly. “Micky and I were best friends from school, but in the past year he’s changed into someone I don’t know.”

“Is he not happy in the band?”

Ben shrugs his shoulders. “He’s not happy with anything, and he’s making bad decisions about the things he does and the people he mixes with. But I won’t have him throw away everything we’ve worked for.”

“What will you do?”

“Anything I have to, because the way he’s headed, he’s going to destroy us.”

Nicole shakes her head knowingly. “I think your place in the public’s affections is pretty well cemented.”

“Until they find out what’s really been going on behind the scenes,” says Ben scathingly. “Then we’re finished.”

“You make it sound like you’ve done something illegal,” says Nicole, half-jokingly.

Ben takes a deep breath. “We’re terrifyingly close,” he says, looking at her, as if questioning whether he can trust her or not. “A month or so ago, we had an after-party and it got raided by the police.”

Nicole’s brow furrows. She already doesn’t like where this is going.

“The place was littered with drugs, and I was dragged down to the station and cautioned.”

“How has that not made the news?” Nicole asks incredulously.

“Because we paid a lot of people to keep it off the books.”

Nicole’s eyebrows shoot up, her expression a mixture of surprise and disappointment. “Well, it sounds like you and Michael are as bad as each other.”

He shakes his head. “But that’s just it. I’ve been known to pop a pill every once in a while, but Michael likes it all , and lines it up as if it’s candy in a sweet shop. He’s the one who brings it in and he’s the one who gives it out.”

“So, did he get a slap on the wrist as well?”

Ben laughs acerbically. “If he’d been caught, he most likely would have been hung, drawn, and quartered.”

“But…” prompts Nicole, feeling like there’s one coming.

“But while the rest of us were being arrested, he somehow managed to jump out the window and do a runner down the fire escape.”

“Oi, oi, what’s going on ’ere then?”

They both jump at the sound of the gravelly voice, and Ben drops his headphones as if they’re on fire. Nicole surreptitiously removes hers, too, not needing to ask who it is.

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding?” says Michael from behind a cloud of smoke. The intoxicating blend of marijuana furls its way up Nicole’s nose, the heat burning the tiny hairs in her nostrils.

“What are you doing here?” says Ben.

“What’s the problem, bro?” says Michael, the words at odds with his condescending tone. “You sound like I’ve caught you doing something you shouldn’t.”

“I’m just laying down my vocals for ‘Friends Like These’,” Ben lies.

“What, without the rest of the band?” snarls Michael, knowing, even in his stoned haze, that it’s unlikely.

“Thought we’d try something new.”

“So, who’s she ?” growls Michael, giving Nicole a cursory glance up and down to size up whether she’s someone he might be interested in. As if he has a choice to make.

Ben bristles beside her as his brain no doubt fast-tracks to find the most acceptable answer. Just watching him is exhausting.

“She’s the new studio assistant,” he says, making Nicole feel even smaller than she already does. He turns to her to continue the charade. “We’ve got band-time booked in for when we get back from America, right?”

Nicole nods numbly.

“Well, you’d better make sure your sweet ass is here when we come back,” says Michael, coming toward her and running a hand up her bare leg, the tips of his fingers feeling their way under the frayed hem of her denim shorts.

“Hey, cut it out,” snaps Ben, reaching forward and swiping his arm away.

“Or what?” says Michael, his nostrils flaring.

“You’re pathetic,” says Ben, turning to walk away.

“Hey, don’t you turn your back on me!” roars Michael, pulling on Ben’s shoulder.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” says Ben, attempting to shrug him off. But Michael’s not having it and steps up to him, puffing his chest out like he has something to prove.

“Come on then!” he bellows, poking Ben in the chest with a provoking finger. “Let’s have it.”

Ben looks at him, his expression a mixture of pity and sadness as to how they’ve got to this point.

“Go home,” he says. “Get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll see you at the awards tonight.”

Michael looks like he’s been shot with a tranquilizer dart, as the realization sinks in that he’s not going to get the fight he was looking for.

“Yeah, right,” he says, suddenly sheepish, though Nicole doesn’t imagine his subservience will last very long.

“I’m so sorry,” Ben says, once Michael has left. “Are you OK?”

Nicole nods, though she can still feel Michael’s clammy hand on her thigh.

Ben lets out a heavy sigh. “That’s the kind of shit I’m having to deal with on a daily basis.”

“He can’t go around treating people like that,” says Nicole.

“I know, but he’s not in a good place right now, and it’s a constant fight to keep him on the straight and narrow.”

Nicole bites her tongue to stop herself from saying that he’s a grown adult who’s living a life that millions of others would kill for, so perhaps he needs to stop being treated with kid gloves and be given some tough love.

“I’ll find a way to get through to him,” says Ben, as if reading her mind.

She smiles, wishing him all the luck in the world, because she fears he’s going to need it.