Page 61

As Jay went to answer the door Frankie got up from the sofa to get the dogs’ gravy bones from the Tupperware box on the kitchen island. She heard the front door open, and the bolts sliding on the storm doors. Then muffled voices.

After a moment the voices became clearer and the door into the kitchen opened. Toffee ran over as Jay walked into the room followed by Si Runcannan and Cole McIntosh from the band.

‘Hi,’ Cole said cheerfully to Frankie, who stood slightly awkwardly with the tub of dog treats in her hand.

Si growled a greeting, barely glancing in Frankie’s direction.

‘I’m sorry we gate-crashed your evening,’ Cole said as he clocked the mugs of tea and photograph albums. ‘I tried calling to warn you we were on our way.’

‘I must have put my phone on silent,’ Jay said. ‘So, what’s up? What are you doing here?’ he asked.

Cole cleared his throat. ‘You haven’t seen social media?’

Jay shook his head.

‘It’s blown up and we’re the subject. Questions over what we’re doing, if we’ve argued, your apparent disappearance. There’s even a rumour you’re dead.’

‘What?’ Jay looked at Frankie in disbelief.

‘Clearly you are very much alive,’ Cole said with a smile, ‘but because we couldn’t get a hold of you, I drove us up here, because if Simon had got on his bike, he’d have very likely killed himself and others in his current state of inebriation,’ Cole added matter-of-factly in his soft Edinburgh accent.

‘Oh, fuck off, Cole,’ Si said. He was kitted out in black biker leathers. He rasped his hand over the top of his buzz cut, still scowling.

The keyboardist looked unfazed at Si. ‘You were the one to come to me in a panic this afternoon.’ Cole spoke in a measured tone. In any interview Frankie had seen, Cole always answered slowly, as if at pains to find the exact choice of words before speaking and therefore came across as the thoughtful, intense member of the band.

Si slammed a half-empty bottle of Bulleit Bourbon on the kitchen island. ‘I wasn’t panicked, I was worried. And also,’ he swung round to eyeball Jay, ‘I think it’s time you explained why you fucked off and left the band. It’s not just our fans wondering about our future; we’re in fucking limbo too.’

Frankie stared. She hadn’t realised Jay had left the band.

Jay rubbed his hand over his face. ‘I didn’t leave. We’d done the last leg of the European gigs. The tour was done. You even persuaded me to do that secret concert in London as a last hurrah. It wasn’t like I left anyone in the lurch. And I just suggested a break.’ Jay spoke wearily and Frankie wondered if Jay had explained this more than once.

Si’s lip curled. ‘It felt like you left! We had the last London concert high and then a week later I got a shitty message saying you wanted a break, you needed time. I’m thinking eight months is long enough.’

‘You know why I needed time out,’ Jay said in exasperation. Frankie saw red spots appear on Jay’s cheeks.

‘Yeah, you were having a hard time, boo-hoo. Poor Jay needing to go off for a spa break.’ Alcohol made Si’s Manchester accent thicker and harsher. He unzipped one of his biker jacket pockets and pulled out a packet of cigarettes.

‘You know it wasn’t a spa,’ Jay said.

‘Rehab, then,’ Si said in a mocking voice.

Rehab? Frankie had had no idea Jay had been to rehab.

Si took out a cigarette and put it to his lips.

‘Not in here!’ Jay said firmly.

‘For fu…’ Unlit cigarette dangling from his bottom lip, Si looked around questioningly. ‘Where?’

‘Garden.’ Jay pointed the way and Si trudged out, snatching up the bottle of bourbon as he went, the back door slamming shut behind him.

Cole sighed, then turned to Frankie and put his hand out. ‘I’m Cole, once again, sorry for barging in.’

Frankie shook it. ‘Hi, I’m Frankie.’

Frankie saw a flicker of a look pass between Cole and Jay, before Cole said, ‘So, Si’s in one of his moods.’

Jay nodded ruefully. ‘I can see that.’