Strings

Thank you!

Firstly, thank you for downloading my novel, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. There are some very special people I would like to thank, without their help and support, it might never have happened. My husband Jon, for his support, and for his advice and input. I had to realise this was a project that needed time and patience, I don’t like waiting or having control taken away. As usual he was completely right. Thank you, for making my dream come true and for being my best friend. My small team who helped during the first stages, and gave me feedback, or a kick up the ass, when I began to doubt myself, and everything I was doing. Anouska, Claire, Tracy and Linda, you have no idea how much you helped. Liz, who had the job of editing my draft, which was a job and a half, it was my first attempt and we all have to start somewhere. My family and friends who supported me throughout this process, and didn’t let me give up. There are too many names, but you know who you are, and I love you all.

My son Leo, for being my reason to breath, and giving me strength to be all I can be.

This book started another passion of mine. Music, finding new bands to rave about, blog about and help, if I can. Some have helped me through this process, their music has inspired me and lifted me when I most needed it. So, White Clouds and Gunfire, Sabella, Phoenix Calling and The Castellars, Thank you for making music that not only inspired but kept  me going. I wish you all the best on your journey, and I will see you at a gig soon.

My last thanks goes to my Mum, who I miss everyday. You leaving us was what made me realise how short and precious life is. You showed true strength during your last days, and I’m proud to have known you. You raised me, and shaped me into who I am today, and I hope you are proud. Dad, I love you, to!

Live life, be brave and prosper!

STRINGS

An e
agle will mate for life,

o
nly seeking out a new one if theirs were to die.

Hospital (1)

October 13
TH
2014

‘Are you sure I can't get you anything?’ Liz, the nurse,
asked. She looked sympathetically at Melissa as she fluffed up the pillows.

             
Melissa shook her head and leaned back. ‘No thank you. The only thing I want, you can't give me.’

             
Liz sighed and took her hand. ‘It’s a terrible business. You poor girl. But I’m sure things will work out.’ The nurse was in her late thirties and had been taking care of Melissa for the past twenty-four hours, quickly becoming very fond of her. There was a buzz around the hospital due to presence of the new patient but Liz refused to become a gossip. This girl had been through enough and she wouldn't add to it. She was amazed to discover how different a person could be to what the media would have you believe they were like. Melissa Webb was one of the sweetest girls Liz had ever had the pleasure of caring for, and she knew she would not believe another word printed about her. Liz prayed that things would work out. ‘The police will be here soon to take your statement,’ she said as she released Melissa’s hand and gently placed it back on the bed.

             
Melissa nodded, but didn’t make eye contact. Instead, she continued to stare at the leather cuff in her hand, knowing that if she looked Liz in the eye, she would lose control, and she didn't want to cry in front of a stranger, regardless of how nice she seemed to be. There was only one person who could make her feel better. His comforting arms were all she wanted and needed, but she knew he wasn't coming. He wouldn’t be here to dry her tears if she cried. He always did those caring and loving things for her, and nobody else made her feel safe like he did.

             
‘Press the button if you need me, and I’ll be straight in,’ Liz said as she left the room.

             
Finally alone, Melissa turned over, buried her head in her pillow and sobbed. The pain was so intense it felt as though her heart was being ripped out of her chest. She was still trying to piece it all together; how her life had turned from a dream to a nightmare so quickly and dramatically, and what she would do if he didn't come home. She ached for him. Melissa knew the world would be talking and the rumours spreading, but she didn't care, not today. They could gossip and speculate all they wanted, but as far as she was concerned, the world had ended and she wanted to die. She cried for what seemed like hours and didn't hear her mum come into the room until she turned her over and embraced her.

             
‘Come on, sweetheart, let it out. You’re safe now.’ She rocked her daughter like a small child while trying to hold back her own tears. Although her daughter was twenty years old, she was still her baby. Jean Webb was a small woman with golden blonde hair that sat just above her shoulders. Her pale blue eyes were welling up as she kissed the top of her daughter’s head. She pulled Melissa’s hair back into a loose ponytail, to see her beautiful face better. Melissa had the same colour hair as her mother but it was much longer. You could tell they were mother and daughter, or at least you could usually, but maybe not today. The dressing on Melissa’s face hid the true extent of the injury caused to her left cheek. Jean knew her daughter was heartbroken and recovering from a trauma, but she also knew that it was important for her to talk while everything was fresh in her mind.

             
‘Talk to me, please. You should have come to us when this all began,’ she said softly.

             
Melissa cried into her mum’s shoulder. ‘I know, I was so stupid … this is all my fault. He should have just walked past me after that gig and kept on walking. I should never have got involved. I should have stayed out of his life!’

             
She wasn't thinking straight and Jean told her not to be so silly. This was clearly not her fault, none of it. He had a choice, and he chose to spend his life with her. They simply fell in love, and there was no way they could have known how their lives would change as a result. They definitely shouldn't apologise for it. He was a star with a talent that most people could only wish for. He deserved his status, and Melissa had every right to walk proudly by his side. He had said to Jean once that she was his angel. She had saved him and changed his life. They weren’t perfect - they had been through bad times and sometimes argued just like any other couple. But if you believed the gossip, they were at each other’s throats twenty-four seven, which was so far from the truth it was ridiculous.

             
‘This shouldn't be happening. You don't deserve it, and
he
doesn't deserve it,’ Jean said, the thought of what had happened making her angry.

             
Melissa asked what was being said about them, but Jean told her not to worry about that. ‘I assume they’re saying it’s my fault - it always is.’ She was used to taking the blame when it came to Luke. She wasn't good enough in some people’s eyes, and it irritated her intensely, but there was nothing she could do about it. People on the outside didn't know them – they didn’t know anything. The people close to him all agreed she was perfect for him, and vice versa. Luke would listen to her, and she could calm him when no one else could.

             
‘Babe, they’re idiots. Don't waste time worrying, it’s bullshit,’ her mum said.              

             
Melissa looked up at her and smiled. Jean didn't usually swear but she was mimicking Luke in an attempt to make Melissa feel better. ‘Thanks Mum’ she replied.

She felt as though they w
ere never going to let her recover in private – the vultures were already circling, and picking for information as to what had happened. Jean had dodged two of them as she’d come into the hospital and that wasn’t even the beginning. There would be more – lots more. She wanted to scream at them to leave her daughter alone, but what would be the point? She was an intelligent woman and she knew that the lifestyle Melissa and Luke had chosen came at a price. But surely there had to be a limit? Apparently, her broken and terrified daughter was even more exciting to them than she was before. It was just another scoop for them to sell their trash, she thought. They didn’t care that two families and their friends were going through a terrible time, which would only get worse if he didn’t return. Millions of fans around the world waited to discover the fate of their idol. But to Melissa he was her boyfriend, her soul mate, her world.

             
Melissa finally cried herself to sleep, and Jean stared out of the window, watching the rain. She listened to the tapping sound of the drops against the glass, and found it soothing. The room was as private as they could make it, with only a select few medical staff allowed in – not because she was a diva, but for her own safety. Jean heard the door open and turned to greet her husband, who had brought coffee and food. They knew they would be staying put for quite some time.

             
‘How’s my baby girl doing?’ he asked as he passed a skinny latte to his wife. As he did so, he saw the fear in her eyes.

             
Jean shook her head, and stared down at her sleeping daughter. ‘Not good. Look what that lunatic has done to her! How could we let this happen? How could one person do all this?’ Jean cried. She didn't want to wake Melissa, but she was so angry and upset that the emotions flooded out. She felt that she had let her daughter down.

             
Mick put his coffee down and hugged his wife. ‘We didn't know this would happen, nobody did. We had no idea there was a problem. You mustn’t blame yourself. We’re here now and we’ll make sure she is fine,’ he assured her.

             
‘Everything was going so well after—’

             
Mick interrupted her. ‘Shhh. That's over with and they got through it, so they can get through this too.’ But while it was his duty to be strong and reassure his wife, privately even he wasn't completely convinced this time.

             
‘They can't get through this if he isn't here! How will she cope, Mick? He’s the love of her life! This isn't a break up. I wish it was. At least there’d be hope, and an explanation,’ she said.

             
Mick kissed his wife’s forehead. ‘They will find him. Someone like Luke can't just vanish.’

             
‘That's what worries me. No one’s seen him for three days. Even the bloody paparazzi haven't seen him! This is bad, really bad….’ She took a deep breath and they both sat down by their daughter’s bed, silently sipping their coffee and watching her sleep, desperate for this to be over, but with no idea how that could happen.

             
The dressing on his daughter’s face made Mick sad and angry. She was such a beautiful girl and she was his baby. Similar to Jean, the thought that he should have protected her was killing him. That’s what a father is supposed to do after all, Mick thought. The doctors were worried that the cut on her face was deep enough to scar, and that thought made him feel sick. He needed to get out of the room for a cigarette, so he headed out through the maze of doors and corridors. He’d only had three puffs when he realised his mistake as the reporters and photographers swarmed towards him like locusts, some clicking away and competing to get the best angle, and others yelling questions at him and pointing microphones. The group of two had grown to at least twelve. 

             
‘Mr Webb ... how is Melissa?!’ Click, click, click!

             
‘Is Luke in there too?’ Click, click, click!

             
‘What happened?!’ Click, click, click!

             
‘Come on, give us something!’

             
Mick ignored them and decided he would finish his cigarette and not utter a word. He would give these bastards nothing – they’d write whatever they wanted anyway, so it made no difference. He recognised some of them, and in his mind had marked the cards of a few in the past. Every vile word they had written about his beautiful daughter was etched in his memory, and not a single one contained a grain of truth. They had branded her a cheat and a whore, a drug addict and a drunk. She was none of those things.

             
He threw the cigarette away and stomped back towards the hospital entrance. The vultures followed. He called them vultures because they circled and picked until there was nothing left. He promised himself that he wouldn't let them do it any more, not to his baby. He was just about to head inside when a group of girls caught his attention, congregated at the side of the main entrance. They seemed to be led by a girl of about eighteen, with long black hair with a blue streak on one side. Her hair was damp from the rain, and so were her clothes. Her mascara had started to run down one cheek. Or it could be from crying, Mick thought. This girl was definitely one of the Eaglets, avid female fans of the man who was missing, his daughter's boyfriend and one of the world’s most famous musicians. The Eaglets would follow Luke and his band anywhere and everywhere. The girl’s jumper was a souvenir from one of their recent tours. The front displayed their logo, four eagles in a diamond shape, one slightly bigger than the others. The eagle’s eyes were savage and its beak wide open. The girl ran to Mick and grabbed his hand.

             
‘Please, are they OK?’ she asked, the desperation clear in her voice.

             
Mick pulled away from the girl politely. ‘Sorry, I can't talk to you.’

             
Her eyes pulled at his heartstrings and he wished he could tell her that everything was fine – that Luke was fine and so was Melissa. But that would be a lie because they were not fine, far from it.

             
He was surrounded by the hoard of reporters again, and decided it was time to leave. He rushed back inside, feeling guilty as he heard the girl calling behind him.

             
‘Please, I just want to know if Luke’s OK. Please, please! I heard that he’s dead! Please, Mr Webb, please!’ the girl sobbed as the rain poured down on her, and her friends hugged each other as they feared for their idol.

*****

Melissa was awake when he returned to her room.

             
‘Hi, baby, how are you doing?’ he asked as he hugged her tightly.

             
She shook her head. ‘I just feel numb.’

             
He stroked her cheek gently. ‘I brought you the things you asked for. Don't worry about your flat, we’ll make sure it’s looked after.’

             
She worried about Luke's things as he did a lot of his creative work at home. When he wasn't away with the band, he stayed at home as much as possible. It was his choice, not Melissa's. ‘Did you lock it? His guitars are in there,’ Melissa asked.

             
‘Yes, don't worry, my love. The keys are in the front pocket of your bag.’ He pointed at the purple holdall on the chair in the corner.

             
‘Thanks, Dad. Did you speak to Ray?’