Angel Dares (9 page)

‘Ignore little red hen then, if he’s not got time for fun. I could show you round later if you like,’ I offered, making the invitation general. ‘I’ve already found a great place for pizza.’

Pete put two more coffees on the table, having helped himself and Michael to a cup. ‘It’s OK, Angel: we’ve got our own caterers. Easier than fighting off the autograph hunters.’

‘Oh.’

‘Not that we don’t all like pizza. We should ask chef to make it tonight; what do you say, Kurt?’

‘Fine. I like pizza and he will insist on serving that French fancy stuff to impress us.’ Kurt’s eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘You want to join us, Angel? You can bring your band mates. I’d like to meet this Jay guy who’s got on Marcus’s wick.’

‘Wow. I mean, yes of course.’ My usual confidence was recovering. I couldn’t sit still when I had just secured an invitation to dinner. I bounced up and had to stop myself doing a happy dance. I settled for hugging myself. ‘Thanks so much.’ I wrinkled my brow as I imagined the evening ahead. ‘And I apologize profusely in advance for Jay. He is quite impossible to like—but he is talented so you’ll have to forgive him. When should we show up? We’re due to perform tonight at seven on the second stage; can we come along after that?’

Kurt smiled at my eagerness. ‘Sure. We’ve not got much on tonight—just a few interviews. I’ll give you my number so you can text me a reminder before you go on. I might just come see what you guys can do.’ I took my phone from the front pocket of my tunic dress and he tapped his contact details into the handset.

Oh my word: I had Kurt’s number and a promise he’d try to come along! I tucked the phone back and held it to my thigh. ‘You’d be very welcome.’ I was going to explode. Marcus’s tidy little man cave was going to have one huge girl-whirlwind rip through it if I didn’t get out. ‘Thanks … and … er … I’d better go. Right now. Quickly.’

I could hear Kurt and Michael laughing as I exited. I hadn’t managed to hide my enthusiasm from them, not even spreading a shred of sophistication over my delight. I jumped down the steps and twirled on the duckboards between the motor homes, relishing my wonderful news.

‘Angel, wait up!’

Oh great: I had been caught by Marcus acting like a kid in her first party dress. ‘Yes?’

‘You left your bag.’

I turned to find him holding out my blue sparkly shoulder bag with the silk fringe. ‘Oh thanks.’ Feeling so happy, I even managed a smile for him. ‘Not sure how I could forget it, seeing how obvious it is.’

He handed it over. ‘Cut the cute act—you don’t have to pretend with me. I know you did it on purpose, like everything else. Needed an excuse to come back, didn’t you?’

‘What?’ My skin went cold.

He put his hands on his hips, thumbs in belt loops. ‘Look, I’ve been working with Kurt now for a few months. I see how these things work. Girls like you are all over the world, trying to attract his attention, and you’ve decided I’m your way in. He’s not careful enough if he likes someone—he’s far too generous. Just be warned: his people will brush you off like a tick if they catch you taking advantage.’

I felt like I’d been sucker punched. The fact that I did have an agenda made my situation not entirely innocent but I was not guilty of anything more than genuine admiration as far as Kurt was concerned. And the secret agenda: I was looking for a girl, not a guy. I took the bag from his clutch without a word and turned away.

Marcus gave a sigh of annoyance. ‘I won’t apologize for being harsh. I get that you’re not a bad person, Angel. You’re just star struck. But I won’t be used to hurt the man who has helped me so much.’

I stopped and whirled around, anger finally swamping humiliation. ‘Just listen to yourself! Can’t you hear how full of it you are? You assume you know me and my motivation but so far everything you’ve said about me is one hundred per cent wrong.’

A deep scowl furrowed his brow. ‘Now see here a moment—’

‘No, you listen. I’ve got something to say and it will be very short and pithy so it won’t strain your attention span away from yourself for too long. Here it is. Eff off, Marcus. I’m at the festival because I am an artist.’ I folded my arms around myself, protection against further blows. ‘I might not be uber-talented like you, but I deserve my place here and any interest that Kurt might want to show me. I have no intention of using him. Can you say the same thing about yourself? Would you be here if it wasn’t for him?’ I tilted my chin, daring him to justify his own career skiing the wake created by Gifted.

Marcus got right up in my grid, finger jabbing at my chest, not quite making contact. ‘Are you suggesting I’m exploiting him?’

I looked down at the finger in disgust. ‘If the cap fits.’

His mouth dropped open. I had rendered him speechless.

‘Now, I really must be off. I have a performance to prepare for—and don’t you have a tech?’

Pleased to have the last word, I stalked away, leaving Marcus to get a grip on his rage.

‘Bow before me, mortal!’ I crowed to Misty as she answered her phone.

‘You’ve news?’

Taking a seat in the corner of the decking area outside the yurt, I checked no one was close enough to overhear. ‘Am I not the best secret agent ever?’

She snorted. ‘I don’t think James Bond, or even Johnny English, have anything to worry about quite yet. What’s happened?’

‘I’ve only just come from talking to all the members of Black Belt and—wait for it—Kurt Voss!’

Her squeal would probably not have needed a telephone to reach me. ‘You’re joking?’

‘Nope. I came, I saw, and I conquered. And it gets better: Kurt invited my group to have pizza with his people after our show. I’ve just been handed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see the whole gang that travels with Gifted.’

‘Kudos, Angel. You’ve far exceeded our expectations.’

‘Thanks, Professor McGonagall. I know: don’t you just love me at the moment? I almost like myself right now. Oh and Misty, Kurt’s so sweet: so funny and interested in people he really needn’t spare a thought for.’

‘I’m really pleased to hear it. You kinda expect all celebrities to be too self-absorbed for that.’

‘He said he’d come and listen to us play.’

‘Aw—that’s so lovely of him. So I take it that you and that Marcus guy are best friends now too?’

‘Er, not exactly. Marcus thinks I’m some desperate fangirl clambering over him to bring myself to Kurt’s attention.’

Misty tutted. ‘He must get that a lot touring with the band.’

‘Yeah, I know, but why anyone would want to clamber
over
him when he is perfectly yummy himself.’ Oops.

‘What are you not telling me, Angel Campbell?’

‘Oh Lord, don’t use your truth force field, Misty Vader.’

‘It doesn’t work over the phone very well so you’re safe. Tell me anyway—of your own free will.’

I kicked back on the chair and looked up at the cloudy skies. ‘It’s just that I have a totally inappropriate crush on the guy. He is so gorgeous but the really screwed up thing is that he hates me and assumes the absolute worst. Why can I never like the guys who like me? Snobby disdain really gets me.’

‘It’s the Mr Darcy complex—you know, that Pride and Prejudice hottie? The more unattainable a guy is, the more you want him. Works the other way round too: guys with their tongues hanging out for girls they can’t get.’

‘So young, so wise,’ I said with mock solemnity.

‘It’s being around Alex. I get educated despite myself.’ I heard funny noises at her end. ‘Sorry, that was me just having a quick word with Will. He was getting impatient with our boy talk and wants to know if you’ve remembered not to use any power.’

‘Yes, I’ve been a good girl.’

Will took over the call. ‘Davis is here. Alex persuaded his way into front-gate security and saw him come in on the CCTV this morning; now Summer’s trying to pinpoint his location with her shadow power. He’s not alone. I’ll forward you the photo.’

‘OK, thanks. To be honest, I’d completely forgotten about Davis. I’ve had an exciting morning. Misty will fill you in.’

‘I appreciate what you’re doing for me, Angel.’

‘No problem—not when I’m having the best time of my life. Love to you all. See you later.’

‘Take care.’

Checking the time, I tucked my phone away. It was now eleven. My group had a slot to rehearse at one, which meant that I had plenty of time to drop by the technical rehearsal for Gifted and Black Belt. I mean, if Kurt was so polite as to show interest in me, I could only return the compliment, couldn’t I? And I’d make sure I stayed out of Marcus’s sight.

It was easy enough to hide by the big stage. Yesterday’s crowd had already flattened the field in front of it and a few members of the cleaning crew were doing a litter pickup. That still left me several banks of sound equipment to lurk behind so the people on stage could not see me—one advantage of being on the short side. It was an amazing venue with the pier-like staging jutting out over the water, providing the illusion that the band was floating mid-air. I had arrived just at the end of Gifted’s big number: ‘Crash and Burn’. There were three other members of the band in addition to Kurt, each legends in their own right: Channing on bass, Sonny on the second guitar and Brian on drums. The band worked like a well-oiled machine. It wasn’t the song they were practising—they had played that a zillion times live already—but the levels.

The speaker beside me squawked.

‘Who the hell is on the desk?’ roared Kurt, demonstrating that he wasn’t so patient with everyone.

A woman’s voice came through the sound system. ‘Sorry, Kurt: I’m there now. The festival technician is having problems linking our equipment up to his. It’s almost sorted.’

Kurt saluted the technicians’ box at the far end of the field. ‘Thanks, Margot. One more time, guys?’

The band went through the song for a final run through. It sounded amazing to me, even plastered up against and half deafened by the speaker. A huge wall of anthem rock: it shuddered through my body like a defibrillator getting my heart going, demanding I dance and join in the chorus. I could feel the rhythmic wash of the waves just below the stage, the whistle of the wind, the swoops of the seagulls overhead: everything seemed to be dancing in time to the beat. I restrained myself with difficulty from moving, though I had to sing along to the refrain:
Crash and burn, Now it’s your turn
.

The rubbish collectors all stopped to watch Gifted going through their moves—had to be some perks to a crap job after all. One started to play the litter picker like air guitar as the others laughed at him.

Peeking over the speaker, I saw a young woman come on stage with a camera and begin snapping the band. As she wasn’t waved away, I guessed she had to be well known to the members. When she finished, she went over to Brian the drummer and gave him a passionate kiss. I sat back down out of sight. Rats: I hoped she wasn’t the one. Discovering that Will’s soulfinder was already in a serious relationship would really hash things up for everyone. But there had to be others—that Margot in the sound box, make-up artists, costume people. I crossed my fingers, wishing Will had a lucky break rather than heartbreak ahead.

‘OK, that sounds fine now. Let’s give the boys their go.’ Kurt took the strap of his guitar off over his head and perched the instrument on its stand.

The three members of Black Belt walked out from the wings. Michael took over from Brian, adjusting the stool to his height. Pete took his place at the keyboard that had already been set up. Marcus carried his own guitar but plugged it into the same amp Kurt had been using. I was surprised to see them sharing equipment and keeping the same backing vocalists and session musicians: most bands were possessive about their extras, instruments, and kit. It just underlined how close the relationship between the two groups had become. They behaved like a family—almost unheard of in this competitive industry. It was a little hint that suggested our speculation that they might share more than music—perhaps even a gift—was not off target.

Gifted didn’t leave. They stood talking together downstage while Black Belt set up. Marcus leaned into the microphone. ‘Morning, campers.’ He grinned at someone at the far end of the auditorium.

‘Hi to you too, Marcus,’ came Margot’s dry voice. ‘How does it sound up there?’

‘There’s a little buzz from the speaker on my right. Can you magic it away?’

‘Your wish is my command.’ The hum that I had hardly noticed disappeared.

Marcus nodded, satisfied. ‘Let’s give it a test run.’

It was strange to watch Marcus being so charming to his colleagues. I’d assumed he extended his ‘Grinch-that-stole-Christmas’ attitude to everyone, but no: apparently I was peculiarly singled out to be blessed in that department.

‘What shall we play?’ asked Pete, flexing his fingers over the keys. ‘Out in the Cold?’

‘Good call.’ Marcus moved his capo on the neck of his guitar.

Kurt leaned into the mic next to him. ‘Give us a break, guys. We’ve heard that at every tech for the last four months. Play us your new song, Marcus.’

Marcus rolled his shoulders. ‘New song?’