Morning Song Read online

  Lauren glanced at him. ‘Neither one of you looked old enough to have two children.’

  ‘Yeah, well, we married right out of high school.’ He looked at the pictures fondly for a moment longer, then reluctantly put them away. ‘Not because we had to either,’ he went on, tucking his wallet back into his pocket. ‘We were childhood sweethearts, the kind of thing everyone said wouldn’t last, but somehow it did.’ He was thoughtful for a moment, then he looked at her seriously. ‘You know what’s really bothering me?’ he demanded. ‘I’m not sure whether I’m afraid they won’t offer me a contract, or they will. If they do, I’m not sure what I’ll say.’

  Lauren could not help showing her surprise, and he explained, ‘I know no one is offering me instant stardom, and I’m not afraid of failing—hell, I’ve failed before, and I can take it. I don’t mind working hard even when there’s no guarantee of success. The thing is, I’m just not sure whether I want success.’

  ‘You’re good,’ Lauren assured him seriously. ‘With Shane’s studio behind you—with Shane producing you—there’s almost no way you can miss. You’ll do tours, you’ll be making big money ...’

  ‘That’s just what I mean,’ he explained. ‘Tours, big money, hit records ... a musician doesn’t have a normal family life at best, and what will all this do to mine? Even a recording contract means moving the whole family to L.A., and from there we’re committed. And if I do make it big, will the big money keep my wife warm at night or give her someone to talk to when the day’s been rotten and she’s all alone? Will their own pool and private schools make up to my boys for not having a dad? I mean, I’m going into this thing with my eyes wide open, and I’m just wondering whether the gains are worth the risks.’

  Lauren was silent, slowly understanding ... about Jimmy, about Shane. It was almost as though she had lived through this entire scene before, with Shane. What would she have said to Shane had he put this same problem before her ten years ago? What would he say now?

  She met Jimmy Wild’s troubled gaze evenly and said, ‘You love your music, don’t you?’

  He gave a small half-smile. ‘I guess I can’t hide that.’

  ‘And you love performing. When you’re relating to an audience, reaching all those people and sharing something that’s a part of you—it’s like heaven. It’s the best feeling you’ll ever know, and when you have that feeling you don’t need anything else, and when you don’t have it all you can think about is having it again. If someone told you today you could never sing or play an instrument again you’d just as soon die, wouldn’t you?’

  He looked at her, slow admiration and renewed understanding dawning in his eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said softly, ‘that’s just how it is.’

  ‘Then,’ she told him, ‘you don’t really have a choice. You’ll go wherever your music takes you, because it’s—higher than you, it’s more important than what you want or what you think is best. You’ll find a way to keep the other parts of your life together, just like you always have before, but you won’t really turn your back on a chance to reach more people, to share your music with the world. You simply can’t,’ she finished firmly, and far back in her mind the realisation echoed, Shane Holt did, and look what’s happened to him ...

  Slow relief crossed Jimmy’s face, there was a sparkle in his eyes she had seen only when he was performing. ‘By God,’ he said in quiet wonder, ‘you’re right.’ He reached for her hand, he squeezed it tightly. He laughed in pure pleasure. ‘I mean, I guess I always knew it—I think something was trying to tell me that, but I was trying not to listen ... but you put it into words and probably saved me from making the biggest mistake of my life! How can I thank you?’

  Because his happiness was contagious, she laughed, and hugged him swiftly. ‘Just be great,’ she told him, then Shane was at the door.

  His eyes fell upon the two of them as they moved easily out of the embrace, and something in his eyes hardened even as he came casually into the room. He said, without preliminaries, ‘Well, Jimmy, I think the best way to go is to cut an album, and release the first single in February. ‘I’m going back to L.A. and start getting some material together for you, and we should be able to start recording by the first of the year. I’m going to put you together with a good manager and concert promoter, so be prepared to work hard the next year or so. The only way to sell records is to promote them, and we don’t intend to lose money on this deal—you’re too good for that. How does it sound so far?’

  Jimmy looked stunned, disbelieving, and cautiously joyous as he got slowly to his feet. ‘This is for real?’ he questioned carefully. ‘I mean, you’re talking big-time here, albums, concerts ...’

  ‘Well,’ Shane assured him with a smile, ‘I’m not making any promises. I mean, you’re not going to be opening for the Stones on a world tour any time soon, but we are going to do our best to put your name on the charts within the next year. Now, can we talk about a deal?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jimmy replied dazedly, ‘sure. Of course!’ And then he laughed, shaking his head a little as though to clear it of the fog. ‘Listen, I’m sorry, this is just all hitting me pretty hard ... You’re going to think this is hokey, but would you mind if I called my wife first? She’s been waiting all week

  ‘Go ahead,’ Shane told him, and the smile in his eyes was genuine. ‘Always keep your priorities straight. And Jimmy ...’ he extended his hand to him, ‘good to have you aboard.’

  Jimmy laughed, shook his hand enthusiastically, and practically skipped out of the room.

  Her new friend’s happiness was reflected on Lauren’s face as she turned to Shane. ‘I’m so glad,’ she said, ‘that it worked out.’

  ‘I’m sure you are.’ Though his tone was mild, the hardness was back in his eyes, and that startled her. ‘You two seemed very close.’

  Her eyes widened with amused insult. ‘And just what is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Just what I said.’ He crossed the room and idly placed a video cartridge in the player. ‘That was a cosy scene I walked in on.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ she exclaimed impatiently. ‘He’s married!’

  ‘So?’ He flipped a switch and a series of toneless, monotonous beeps floated from the machine.

  ‘You’re not accusing me of chasing after a married man?’

  ‘I don’t know you well enough to accuse you of anything,’ he replied flatly, and turned the machine off.

  Lauren could not take him seriously, and she refused to be hurt. ‘Well,’ she said easily, coming over to him, ‘I must say I’m surprised. Instead of insulting me, you should be thanking me. I just saved a recording artist for you. He wasn’t going to sign.’

  ‘And you just did him the favour of his life,’ returned Shane bitterly, not looking at her. ‘Living out another fantasy, Lauren?’

  He was really serious, and she caught her breath. ‘What,’ she asked cautiously, ‘do you mean by that?’

  There was fury in his eyes as he turned on her. ‘The original wasn’t good enough for you, was it? So you turn to an exact copy and hope you have better luck! And why not—it’s just perfect! In fantasies little things like wives and children and pasts and character don’t matter—you just want a cardboard cut-out you can fit into your dream! Well, I wish you all the happiness in the world, Lauren!’

  His words were like knife slashes, and she went rigid with the pain. Even knowing that he could not possibly believe his accusations did little to mitigate the hurt. Having him angry at her for any reason, whether justified or not, made her feel isolated and afraid. She said, as steadily as she could, ‘That’s not fair, Shane. You have no right to insult either Jimmy or me like that when you know it’s not true.’

  The defiance and anger faded slowly into regret beneath the patient hurt in her eyes, and he turned away. He said quietly, after a moment, ‘You’re right.’ And he released a stiff breath. ‘I’ve apologised to you more than I ever have to anyone else in my life. Please accept one more.’ />
  Her own hurt dissolved into sympathy for him. She took a step towards him. ‘I know you didn’t mean it,’ she said softly. ‘And you’re not really upset with me or Jimmy, are you? It’s because Jimmy reminds you so much of yourself.’

  ‘Yes,’ he admitted heavily, after a long time. Still he did not look at her. ‘And because I see a kid who’s about to lose everything he’s got chasing rainbows and I’m the villain who’s holding the pot of gold.’

  ‘But,’ she protested in some confusion, ‘you said he was good. You said you would help him—you practically promised him a chart single. Wasn’t any of that true?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ agreed Shane, ‘he’s good. He’ll probably make it. He’s got a lot more going for him now than I did when I started; he might even make it to the top ... but he’s going to have to jettison a lot of unnecessary cargo along the way. Things like integrity, common sense, his family, friends, privacy, honesty ... and one day when he looks down on all the things he’s left behind and all the people he’s trampled on to get to the top, he’ll have me to thank for it.’

  Lauren said quietly, ‘Jimmy knows what he’s doing. He’s a very sensible young man, and he’s weighed the risks. I think he can handle it.’

  ‘Sure,’ agreed Shane tonelessly. ‘That’s the pity, isn’t it? There aren’t too many people in this business who have good sense, and here’s one who’s ready to throw it all away. He thinks he can handle it now, but a year from now he won’t know what the hell he’s doing. He won’t even know who he is.’

  She shook her head firmly. ‘It doesn’t have to be that way. Give him some credit.’

  After a long time he turned to look at her, and there was such sorrow in his eyes that she wanted to run to him and hold him, to comfort him even though she did not know what tormented him. ‘I want to believe that,’ he said. ‘But I keep seeing re-runs of my own life in him, and I can’t help seeing him standing in my place ten years from now, trying to tell some other kid not to make the same mistake.’

  ‘Your only mistake,’ she told him steadily, ‘was in giving up.’ She saw the flicker of warning in his eyes, but he no longer intimidated her. She pursued, ‘You can’t tell me now that the only thing missing in your life is not your music—that you wouldn’t be completely happy if you were writing and singing again, performing and recording ... you need that, and you can’t go on punishing yourself for ever.’

  He looked at her calmly. ‘Maybe I am punishing myself,’ he said quietly, ‘but not in the way you mean, and not by choice. You see, the only thing missing in my life is love. That was part of my jettisoned cargo.’

  Lauren shook her head mutely, and tears of love and yearning misted her eyes. ‘No,’ she whispered, touching his arm in a gesture of comfort, or entreaty, ‘that’s not true. You are loved ...’ her voice almost broke on the next words. ‘By me.’ She looked at him and all she had ever felt for him was brimming in her eyes, begging for his acceptance. ‘Oh, Shane, don’t you know that? I’ve tried to tell you, I’ve tried to show you ... I love you! I was afraid before, that you would—that you wouldn’t ... but you said you wanted it, and then you turned away from me ...’ She was becoming incoherent, and the softening mixed with reluctance in his eyes only confused her more. ‘I just ... love you,’ she finished, and she did not know what else to say.

  There was a moment when her entire life was held in the balance by the depths of his eyes. He would either believe her or dismiss her, he would either welcome her or reject her, but she had done it, she had offered her most precious gift to him—her love. He could refuse it, but he could not give it back.

  She did not know how she would survive if he refused.

  And then, slowly, he pulled his arm away. That terrible hardness came over his eyes again and he said coldly, ‘You don’t love me, Lauren. You don’t even know me.’

  Her fingers found the back of a chair, she gripped it hard while slow, icy waves of pain flowed over her. She tried to speak, but the sound which escaped her tight, aching throat was not what she had intended at all. She sank to the chair, her head bowed while she struggled for control, and at last she managed thickly, ‘If—I don’t know you, it’s because you won’t give me a chance. You won’t—let me know you, but you can’t stop me from loving you.’

  There was an endless, unbearable silence, and she could feel his eyes on her. Somehow she managed to look up at him, swallowing her pain and her pride, refusing to appear before him like a penitent child. What she saw there startled and frightened her, making her think that perhaps he was right—for this was certainly not like any part of Shane she had ever known. There was a glitter in his eyes which was as impersonal as stone, and an odd curl to his lips which was not a smile and not a grimace; it looked cruel.

  ‘Do you want to know me, Lauren?’ His voice was low, smooth, and dangerous. ‘All right. Let me tell you about Shane Holt.’

  He walked away from her, towards the window, and stood there looking out into the darkness as though it held endless fascination for him. He began, in a casual, almost bored tone. ‘I started out a lot like Jimmy, just wanting to tell my stories and share my melodies. There was nothing naive about me; I knew I was getting into a rough business and I thought I could handle it. For a while I did. My first single was slow to catch on, but it was a hit. I started to sell albums. Like you said, I guess that part of success came easily to me. Maybe too easily.’ He fingered the curtains, Lauren watched his blurred profile in the darkened window pane with tense, silent absorption. The atmosphere in the room was heavy, threatening a violent storm. Every nerve fibre and sensor within her was alert for disaster; she could feel it but could not understand it. She knew something terrible was about to happen as, once again, her life began to change in his hands.

  ‘But,’ he picked up the story. ‘I kept my head on straight. I told myself I was different, I didn’t really belong to the music crowd, I was an individual and I wasn’t going to be sucked down by what was happening to me ... and then, all of a sudden, I wasn’t so different.’ Now he was speaking mostly to himself, heavily, reflectively, each word seemed to be dragged from the centre of him with an audible pain. ‘I’ve tried on lots of excuses ... the pressure, the hours, the uncertainty ... none of them really work. The truth is, it was there, it was easy, and I let it happen. I started taking pills to sleep and pills to stay awake, the usual story. I let myself be over-extended, I set up a schedule of tours and recording sessions that would have killed two men my size and age, I got a Superman complex. I forgot my old friends and didn’t have time for relationships. And about that time ...’ there was a dry, brittle twist to his tone, ‘I got married.’

  There was a silence, and she wanted to stop him, to beg him not to put himself through this torture, not for her sake ... but he went on. ‘Do you remember a song I did,’ he demanded abruptly, ‘on my last album—Tailspin into Hell?’ Lauren nodded dully, even though he did not turn to see. That was one song which had seemed—not exactly out of character—but definitely different for him. It was haunting, tormenting, and it touched the very depths of human despair. It had told her something about him she had never really understood—or never wanted to understand. Until now.

  He said, ‘That was what the last two years of my career were like.’ He gave a short, dry sound. ‘I don’t even remember writing it. I crawled out of a barbiturate stupor and found it waiting there, the words smeared all over a tablecloth, telling me what I’d lived through the night before.’ Now his voice became tight, she could see his muscles knot even from that distance, and he spat out the words as though they were laced with poison. ‘I’m talking about the hard life, Lauren. Waking up screaming in the middle of the night and afraid to face another day. Watching the silverware get up and walk across the table, amphetamine hangovers so bad I couldn’t even hold a glass of water without breaking it or write my own name ... Parties that lasted two or three weeks at a time, and the things that went on at those parties would turn your st
omach. I’m talking about hard drugs, mainlining it, and the kind of lowlife girls like you have never even heard about. You could walk into my house any time of the day or night and find enough illegal goods to keep a narcotics squad busy for a year. Those last two years I was so stoned if you caught me on a good day I might be able to tell you my name. And I did tours, and promos, and sessions, God knows how, and half the time I didn’t even know what city I was in.’

  Don’t, she pleaded silently, and a tear spilled over her cheek and into her parted lips. Don’t go on, don’t do this to yourself ... Every part of her writhed with his pain and she had to clench her hands together to stop the shaking. His suffering became hers as the sharing she had yearned for so long finally became a reality.

  Shane demanded harshly, ‘Do you know where I was when the baby was born?’

  Again she managed to shake her head, jerkily, and tasted another tear. Again he did not see. He was a man possessed by dark demons, caught up in the spell of a nightmarish past which would only release him through the spoken word. She could not reach him; she could not help him.

  ‘Neither do I,’ he replied to her silent answer shortly. ‘I woke up on my front lawn three days later feeling like I’d been hit by a truck and left in the desert to bake, and with no idea where I’d been for the past week. I didn’t even see her until she was a week old, and then—I don’t remember ...’ His voice fell into a whisper, harsh, incredulous, torn. ‘My God! My child, my own flesh and blood—and I never...’ each word was dragged out with separate horror, ‘even ... knew her!’ She heard his shaky breath, but his figure blurred hotly before her eyes. And then he squared his shoulders, staring straight out at the darkness, and went on curtly, in a rush, ‘The night of the accident, we were at a friend’s house. I was stoned, and planning to get even more so, but the baby started to cry and break up the party. Emily wanted to drive, but I was angry and I wouldn’t let her. I thought I had it pretty well together, I guess I’d been in worse shape and always made it home okay. The road was icy and I didn’t see it. I drove like a maniac right over the side of a cliff. Not a scratch on me. You know what they say about drunks and ...’ he broke off with a sharp breath. ‘When I woke up,’ he finished briefly, ‘I was sober, and they were dead.’