Chapter 20

 

Kit presses a bottle of cold water into my hands as I follow Black Death backstage to get ready for the gig. “Drink this,” she says. “Take small sips and deep breaths. You’ll be fine.”

I wish I shared her confidence. My hands are trembling so much I can barely hold the water and I dread to think what will happen when I pick up my guitar. Backstage, nobody even mentions Baz’s sudden departure or seems to care that I’m standing in for him. All they can talk about is Mike Meara.

“Fair play to you mate, I can’t believe you got Mike Meara,” Len slaps Mac on the shoulder.

“We just better make sure we give him a performance he won’t forget!” Mac’s grin is confident.

If I screw it up, none of them will ever forgive me.

Mac pulls off his t-shirt and adjusts the trademark bandana around his neck. He ties his unruly curls back in a ponytail, frowns at his reflection and pulls the hair-tie out again, shaking his hair loose around his face.

“More rockstar like that!” He catches me, reflected in the glass, watching him. “You have to get into the zone, Tully. We each have our own ways of doing it.”

I look down at my black button down shirt and jeans. It could be worse, but I don’t feel much like a rock star.

Just then Spike sticks his head in around the door.

“Hey, catch!” He throws me a pair of dark pebble glasses. They are pure Spike and not the kind of thing I’d ever wear myself.

“Put them on and get the guys to give you something to flatten your hair down. You’ll rock the Oasis vibe!”

“Here!” Len shoves a tub of hair-gel at me and I rub it into my hair. The smoothed-down look isn’t really me, but with the pebble glasses, there’s a slick Britpop vibe going on. It’s like a whole new persona, another version of myself. Mac’s theory about getting into the zone is beginning to make sense.

Huddled behind the curtain, we can feel the energy building as the crowd gathers in the packed auditorium. At last, Mike Meara gives us the nod. As the lights go on and the band gets ready to burst onstage, I take a final sip of water. Mac leads the way, leaping out in front of an arena of wildly cheering fans. With a deep breath to keep the nausea at bay, I follow behind him. The others glide out after us, slipping into their places, bass, keyboard, sax, percussion and, finally, Len on drums.

Mac holds out the microphone towards the crowd and yells “Tick-Tock” and they all shout right back at him “I’m waitin’.”

And suddenly, like a flash of illumination, I understand the crowd are here for us. They’ve come because they want to see Black Death live and they want to love us. They hope someday to tell their kids about the first time they saw Black Death, when the band was still starting out and not famous yet. All I have to do is give them what they want.

This realisation sends a spark though me and I come to life. Suddenly, I don’t care! All my fears and inhibitions are gone. I just want to be here, onstage, performing. Holding my guitar aloft, I jive and jam with Mac as though my life depends on it.

As the chemistry builds between us, we take it to new heights. It’s like I’ve found my place, my calling, and the audience can sense it. They are eating it up, loving every minute of it. The energy is electrical, charging me, and I radiate it straight back at the fans crowding the stage.

I have to do this again. This can’t be my first and only time performing. Finally, I have found something that makes me feel seen.

The set passes in a blur, and I can’t believe it when it’s over. The last two hours have flown by on an adrenaline high. I only realise we’ve come to the end when Mac presents the members of the band to the crowd. “A big hand for Pete on bass, Len on drums, Maxim on keyboard, Wolf on sax and Brazilica on percussion.”

Finally he introduces me. “Will you all please give a special welcome to Tully Cabe, Black Death’s new lead guitarist?”

The audience roar, stamping and cheering their approval.

And I smile back at them, nodding my head, unable to believe what I’m hearing. Can it really be true? For the first time in my life I have a future. I could be worthy of Kit.

Mike Meara pops his head in backstage after the gig and Mac rushes up to greet him. “Good show, eh? What did you think?”

“Not bad,” Mike says with a nod. “You did well for a first-timer, Tully!”

Mike Meara knows my name. He thinks I did well. You could knock me over with a feather, but that doesn’t stop the grin on my face stretching from one ear to the other.

Just for an instant, out of the corner of my eye, I catch Mac staring at me with murder in his eyes. But when I look again his expression is normal. It must have been my imagination.

“That was the best thing ever,” I babble to Kit after the show. “I couldn’t believe it. The high was unreal. I was so nervous beforehand, quaking in my shoes. Remember I wanted to get sick? But once I got out there, everything changed. The adrenaline rushes through you and you feel like you can do anything, you’re the centre of the universe. It was literally like I could take the crowd and hold them in my hand.”

Mac Whitehead passes by at that moment and claps me on the back. “Got a taste for it now?”

“That was the most amazing night of my life,” I reply, my face still glowing.

“You did good,” Mac says and moves on. His words fill me with relief. He doesn’t hate me, he’s not angry with me. Why should he be? I didn’t let them down.

“You totally rocked it.” Kit’s voice is warm with admiration. “It was like you became another person up there.”

“Yes, that’s it, that’s totally it. I felt like the person I want to be, a better, stronger, more powerful version of myself, does that make sense?”

“Yes.” Her voice is doubtful, a troubled expression casting a shadow across her face.

But I plunge on. I need to tell her what I feel right now, before the high-octane confidence buzzing through every fibre of my being fizzles away.

“Kit, before I met you, my dreams seemed so far out of reach, there was no point in even thinking about them. But now they’re worth chasing. Finally, I feel like I’ve something to live for, a purpose. You've given me that Kit. Without you, I’m nobody. Without you, I’m nothing.” I look into her eyes getting lost in their green depths. Slowly her uncertainty recedes and she breaks into a smile as she looks straight back at me.

My head bends towards her and our lips meet as we kiss for the first time. It starts tentatively, but soon grows deep and passionate. The intensity takes us both by surprise. We step back and look at each other awkwardly. Everything has changed. I put my arm around her, pull her close and kiss her again. “Now this really is the best night of my life,” I murmur in her ear.

 

Clearing up and putting the gear away after the gig passes in a haze. All that matters is that Kit is beside me and this time she doesn’t want to talk to anyone else. Felice and Spike come home in the car with Kit and me. It’s unspoken but we can all sense Mac wants to discuss the gig, Mike Meara and Baz’s departure in private with the band.

Felice has a bunch of CDs in her bag but Mam’s car only has a cassette player, so the drive back to Drimshanra passes mostly with Spike calling out instructions to Kit about what to put on the radio. Driving through the night, music on the radio and Kit at my side, this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. Among his other talents, Spike is an excellent backseat DJ and his late night music choice chills me out and brings me down gently from the buzz of the gig.

It’s almost dawn when I drop them both off at Felice’s house. Kit and I continue on to Drimshanra, taking the road past the passage grave. The mound is almost invisible, blending harmlessly into the sleeping countryside. Just as I’m wondering how I could ever have found it threatening or sinister, I hear a faint warning in the back of my head.

Love or music, you can’t have both.

But I pay no attention. The stories about Aonghus sleeping in the passage grave are only rural superstitions.

I’ve had no sleep, but I’ve never felt so wide awake in my life. Drimshanra is peaceful and almost beautiful, the streets empty, the lights glowing like jewels, as we enter it in the small hours. I pull up in front of the granite steps leading to Kit’s imposing front door. For once her period home doesn’t intimidate me.

She pauses before opening the door of the car and we kiss again. This is real. We are a thing.

“Call you tomorrow?” I say.

“Yes.” She smiles as she gets out of the car. I watch as she walks up the steps and stoops to fish the key from under the mat.

Before letting herself in, she turns to wave.

I watch as the door swings closed behind her.

Then I put the car in gear and drive home through the deserted streets, a huge smile stretching across my face.

Finally, I’ve found a way to open the door to Kit’s heart.

 

 

What do you think happens next?

(a)Tully gets his place in the band, but it all goes wrong!

(b)Mac changes his mind and gets someone else.

(c)The band works out unbelievably well for Tully, but he loses Kit…

 

Did you guess right? You can find out here.