Page 52 of When We Were Young

The bus pulled up outside the venue in the heart of Vienna. Lashed across the front of the ornate Victorian building was a huge banner advertising that night’s show. Emily looked up at the enormous photo of Will, wearing the gold lamé jacket she got from the charity shop back in London.

‘Oh God.’ Will groaned and ducked inside.

‘Must be.’

Reu stared at the banner, his eyes glassy.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

He shook his head as though trying to snap himself out of it. ‘It’s my sister’s birthday today.’

‘How old is she?’

His voice was a whisper, ‘Eight.’

She stepped closer, touched his arm. ‘Why don’t you call her?’

He shook his head again.

‘Why not?’

‘My stepdad wouldn’t let her speak to me.’

‘If we ring now, won’t he be at work? I rang my parents last night – they’re an hour behind.’

‘My mum would hang up…’

‘Maybe your sister will answer. Do you want me to try? I’ll pretend I’ve got the wrong number if your mum answers.’

Reu hesitated.

‘There’s a pay phone over there,’ she said.

‘We’re supposed to be sound checking––’

‘It’ll only take a minute. We’re early anyway.’

She grabbed his hand and dragged him across the street to the pay phone.

‘What’s your sister’s name?’ she asked as they squeezed into the booth.

‘Tiffany.’

She fed coins into the slot and punched in the number as Reu dictated it. He pressed his ear up to the back of the handset as it rang.

‘Hello?’ The voice was female – childlike.

‘Is that Tiffany?’ Emily asked.

‘Yeah…’

‘I have a special birthday surprise for you, Tiffany. Would you like to speak to Reu?’

‘Yes!’ exclaimed the little girl.

A voice in the background was asking, ‘Who is it?’

‘Say it’s Nanny,’ whispered Reu. ‘Mum won’t want to speak to her mother-in-law.’

Emily relayed the message and handed him the receiver.

‘Happy birthday, Tiffy!’ cried Reu, and launched into ‘Happy Birthday’ – the squashed tomatoes and stew version. ‘How are you?… What did you get for your birthday?… You’re so lucky! You must’ve been really good.’

Emily sorted through the coins in her purse, thumbing the European ones into the phone.

Reu was talking like a children’s TV presenter. ‘McDonald’s? Good choice… No, I can’t… I’m sorry, Tiff… I’m in Austria… No, kangaroos live in Australia… I’ll come and see you soon, though, I promise…’

Emily slotted her last few cents into the phone.

‘I miss you, too,’ he was saying as she slipped out of the booth.

She waited outside. When Reu emerged, blinking in the sunlight, his eyes were swimming.

Emily opened her arms, and he fell into her.

She felt him quaking as they stood on the street, people bustling past. Had she made a terrible mistake suggesting he call Tiffany? When at last he pulled away, wiping his nose on his sleeve, he managed two words: ‘Thank you.’

What better place for the final show of the US leg of the tour than the legendary Red Rocks Amphitheatre?

Will followed the sound engineer up the corridor to the stage, and as they rounded the corner, the amphitheatre opened out before them.

Two colossal sandstone rocks jutted out either side of them, soaring upwards to a point and wrapping the stage in its sculpted wings.

Hundreds of steps, seemingly carved out of the rock, rose sharply to the azure sky.

He’d seen pictures, but they didn’t do it justice.

As he wheeled slowly around taking in the view, his chest felt like it would burst. Reu was practically bouncing with excitement; Matty’s mouth hung open and Emily let out an awestruck giggle that bounced off the rock.

She slipped her arm around his waist, her camera bumping into his ribs as she leant in and whispered, ‘We made it.’

The corridors backstage were lined with photographs of iconic acts that had performed here over the years: The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan, the list went on. And they were about to join that list. Become part of history.

They had time to kill after the sound check, so they hung out in the dressing room, its craggy walls reminding them this was no ordinary venue.

Reu relieved the boredom the same way he always did, by slapping rhythms on a nearby table.

The beat reminded Will of ‘Under Pressure’ and he found himself humming the melody.

Reu caught his eye, and they both started singing the lyrics at the same time.

Each line was more rousing than the last, and soon they had the whole room singing.

Roadies, technicians, venue staff – even the guys that brought the catering – were crooning along, the unique acoustics making everyone sound half decent.

Reu’s delivery of Freddie Mercury’s nonsense-word scatting had everyone in hysterics.

Reu met Will’s gaze, a feverish spark in his eyes as he grinned back at him.

A flurry of applause echoed in the space when they finished, and in the silence that followed, Will suddenly felt the enormity of the occasion.

It loomed over him like the monoliths outside.

His excitement see-sawing into anxiety. What if no one turned up?

What if they bombed here, in this stunning location, on this historic stage?

What a spectacular failure that would be.

He felt a hand on his. Emily breaking through his thoughts, pulling him out of his seat, a wild look in her eyes.

What was that look? It took a moment for him to recognise it, but as soon as he did, he was up and following.

She led him down a corridor to a storeroom.

She shut the door behind him and stood with her back against it, her eyes locked on his. He loved it when she got like this.

He took her hard and fast up against a speaker, the perfect height for her to wriggle her short denim skirt up and wrap her legs around him. The warm soft wetness of her, the tangle of her fingers in his hair, the soft moan in his ear when she came – she made him feel invincible.

That night, when they rounded the corner onto the stage, they were met with a wall of people stretching up as far as you could see. Their cheers bounced off the rocks, lit up in red and gold against the night sky.

Will waded through the smoky haze to pick up his guitar and stepped up to the microphone.

‘Hello Red Rocks!’ he yelled, and the applause was like thunder.

They played their set; the same one they’d played every night for weeks, but it seemed different. Elevated. Will’s voice was strong, reaching all the highs and lows he asked of it. Reu’s drumming rang out sharp and clear. Even Matty’s bass lines thrummed along harmoniously.

Spotlights swept over the crowd, illuminating thousands of bodies bouncing in unison, arms aloft.

Picking out a line of trees high on the rock, dancing in the warm breeze.

Despite his earlier wobble, this was the easiest show he’d ever played.

He didn’t even need to think. Every moment was utterly effortless.

This must be what athletes meant when they said they were ‘in the zone’.

This setting, this crowd, this moment – it felt spiritual somehow.

The applause for their final song was so loud it reverberated in his chest. He felt like a god. Euphoria filled his body, tingling in his fingers and threatening to lift him into the air. He’d tried speed once, but all it did was make him talk too much. This natural high was unbeatable. Addictive.

This place had been sacred to the Native American tribes who’d lived here. It was sacred to him too now.

When the lights went out, the sky was black velvet studded with diamonds.

Backstage, Reu was a jittery ball of energy. ‘That was fucking awesome!’

Will chuckled. ‘Yes, it was.’

Suddenly, Reu threw his arms around him, squeezing tightly. ‘Love you, man,’ he croaked.

‘Love you, too.’

Reu released him as suddenly as he’d grasped him and bounced off, turning at the door to flash the rock ’n roll salute and yelling, ‘Let’s party!’

Will followed Reu through to the next room where the catering was laid out. He spotted Emily talking to someone on the other side of the room. He grabbed a bottle of beer from an ice bucket, high-fived a passing roadie, and was on his way over when the person turned.

It was Christie Blackmore .

Shit. What were they talking about?

‘Fantastic show!’ cried Christie when she saw him.

Will gave her a chaste peck on the cheek. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I’ve always wanted to see a show here, so when Ed said you were playing, I had to come out.’

‘You remember Emily?’ he asked.

‘How could I forget? We’ve been having a lovely chat.’

Will’s armpits prickled. ‘Oh, yeah?’

Emily smiled. ‘I was just telling Christie we’ve got a few days off before I have to go back to college, and you head off to Australia.’

‘Yeah, I can’t wait to have a break,’ said Will. ‘We’re all knackered.’

‘Why don’t the two of you stay at my pad in Malibu?’ said Christie. ‘I’m heading to New York tomorrow. You’ll have the place to yourselves.’

Emily’s jaw dropped. ‘Really? That would be brilliant!’

‘That’s really kind of you, Christie,’ said Will. ‘But we’re going to LA with the guys––’

‘You’ve spent the last four months with them, Will,’ said Christie. ‘LA’s only an hour away. You can still see the boys, but this way you get time to yourselves, too.’ Christie swigged her drink and gave him a discreet wink. Why was she being so nice?

Emily pleaded with her eyes.

In his mind, he cycled through every possible excuse.

No sane person would refuse an offer like this.

But he felt sick with guilt whenever he thought about that night in Christie’s penthouse suite.

Two weeks of constant reminders of what he’d done would be torture.

Just standing near her made his bones itch.

The house in Malibu was fabulous, but there were photographs of Christie Blackmore everywhere.

Her presence hung over him like a shadow, that night in her penthouse suite playing over and over in his mind.

He wished he’d never gone up in that lift with her.

He should have got out on his floor with Matty. He hated himself for what he’d done.

But playing house with Emily was bliss. Waking beside her, without Ed knocking on the door, telling them to be in the lobby in thirty minutes, making breakfast side-by-side, barefoot in the kitchen, with nowhere to be – living like normal people.

Though Christie’s house was anything but normal with its pool, gym, and home cinema.

They even had the use of her Mercedes 300SE convertible.

Not quite normal life, but more normal than living on a bus with twenty dudes.

They lay side by side on loungers by Christie’s pool. Emily held her book up to shade her eyes from the sun as she read. He felt a pang. The summer was almost over. She’d be heading home soon, and he was going to miss her. He wanted to ask her to come to Australia, but he knew she wouldn’t.

‘Are you looking forward to going back to college?’ he asked instead.

She rolled on her side to face him. ‘I’d rather stay here with you.’

‘You’re missing your work, though.’ Her bikini was distracting. Just three small triangles.

‘Hmm. A bit. I enjoyed taking the photographs, though. I can’t wait to see how they turned out.’ She paused. ‘Have you spoken to your parents yet?’

He reached across and played with the string tied at her hip. ‘No.’

‘It’s been over a year; isn’t it time?’

He sighed. ‘I’m fed up with Mum giving me grief. Reu speaks to her. He tells her how I’m doing. It’s better this way, talking through him.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s not your fault.’

She let out a long exhale. ‘It kind of is.’

‘Milly,’ he said, his tone serious. ‘It absolutely is not.’

She gave a tiny shrug and went back to her book.

He closed his eyes and tried to visualise their future.

Try as he might, he couldn’t shoehorn this Malibu mansion life into their life back in London.

His schedule was relentless. It was like being on a rollercoaster with no way of getting off.

And she had her course to get back to. Red Rocks had been the single best experience of his life and this past week with Emily had been idyllic, but now he was crashing down from that high and she hadn’t even left yet.

Soon she’d be on the other side of the world.

Literally as far away as it was possible to get.

He opened his eyes and squinted in her direction. She lay stretched out along the lounger with the pool throwing watery reflections on her tanned skin. He wished he could pause this moment and stay here forever.