Relieved that he’s distracted, the boys and I start to talk about the set list for tonight, considering a last-minute change as we eat and drink, and I feel better than I have in weeks.
That is, until Martin says, “Holy fuckballs.”
He lifts up an open copy ofThe Times, from the UK. Jakob leans over and looks at whatever Martin is staring at.
“Herregud…” he says slowly, face wide with shock.
“What is it?” I ask before sticking a fry in my mouth.
“Godverdomme,” Geert says because he’s snatched the magazine out of Martin’s hands, and then Jon’s leaning over and looking at it, before looking at me, his face suddenly very pale.
“What?” I demand, grabbing hold of the publication.
I stop chewing as soon as I see the black-and-white photo. My stomach lurches, once, twice. It doesn’t stop.
Because there is Cassie, her face swollen with bruises and a jagged line of stitches crossing her forehead. She’s lying in a hospital bed, asleep or unconscious, and what the fuck,what the fuck…
“What the fuck?” I look at the men sitting with me, literally begging them for answers. They don’t have any. They just stare back at me blankly in various stages of worry and shock.
I try to read the article, but my eyes go quicker than my brain, so I start again, slow down. I read out loud.
“Sources at the hospital told reporters, Ms Everard was brought in at 3:50 pm on Sunday 4 November, unconscious. She is now recovering while being monitored, and her condition has been described as non-critical and stable. A source close to Evergreene reports that the ambulance was called to Chateau Marmont, where Stephan Greene has been staying…”
I stand up so abruptly, it rocks the whole table and tips over my Coke, but I don’t give a shit.
“I’ve got to go,” I say, and I leave as quickly as I can, Martin and Jon’s shouts nothing but fuzzy words I don’t even try to hear.
RHYTHM & NEWS
Saturday, December 8, 1979
BATTLE OF THE BANGS: Cassie Everard Out of Hospital, and Femme Fatale Out of Europe
It’s been a busy and controversial week for both Evergreene and Femme Fatale.
After Sunday’s incident at Chateau Marmont, which left fans reeling and plenty of speculation circulating, Cassie Everard spent three nights in Los Angeles’s Cedars-Sinai Medical Center before being released to recover at home in the Hollywood Hills.
Stephan Greene has not been seen since the ambulance and law enforcement were called to Chateau Marmont, and no further statements have been made since Kevin Briggs reported on Cassie Everard’s stable condition on Monday.
In other Evergreene news, more photos were leaked from Los Angeles County Jail showing Vik Greene seeming to have already made friends with and signing autographs for fellow in-mates. And George Redfern reportedly checked back into the same New Hampshire rehab he broke free from earlier this year, while Clarence Oldman returned to New York City – and to frequenting a number of Manhattan and Harlem’s jazz clubs.
For Femme Fatale, there has also been plenty of developments and gossip after they cancelled their final three European dates on very short notice.
While Pia Lindberg was the first to fly out of Madrid and return to Los Angeles, the men and their manager, Martin Dowde, were closely behind her. Jon Davies has since been photographed catching waves on Malibu Beach. Jakob Edvindsson has been seen on several dates with several different women in LA establishments. Femme Fatale drummer, Geert de Vries, was up to his usual antics, being forcibly removed from the Michelin star restaurant, Estrella, after he reportedly mistook the lobster tank for a urinal.
With both tours cut short and no further announcements if outstanding dates will be honored, it seems increasingly unlikely that we’ll ever see ‘What I Want’ performed by the two leading ladies, who clearly have more than enough going on and so no reason to give the fans whattheywant.
CHAPTER 28
CASSIE
“You don’t need to be here,” I croak as Nora helps me into bed.
“You think I’m just going to leave you like this,” my stubborn assistant says before muttering something in Spanish.
“You know, I’m going to start learning Spanish, and then you won’t be able to say anything behind my back,” I say. By the way my head throbs with pain as lie back on the pillows, I think that was a few too many words than I should have said.
“Well, let me save you the trouble,” Nora says, tucking me in. “What I said was, ‘you must think I’m a heartless bitch if you expect me to leave you like this.’”
