This is a Love Story (31 page)

Ten

‘Come on fella, now don’t be shy.’

Nick

Sienna’s favourite singer in the whole wide world is a man called John Legend. Generally, I find her taste in music appalling. So much so that going through her iPod is enough to put me off my food. But with Legend, I can make an exception. His voice is so incredible, you question if it’s actually possible for a human being to create such a sound.

I once wondered if he was a robot created in the dingy studio of some record label where they held the world’s living musical greats hostage with string and duct tape and siphoned vials of their talent into little test tubes. The voice of John Legend consists of dulcet tones so velvet in musical texture that you almost lose the ability to walk. I swear my pants fell down listening to his album in the kitchen once. He must be a hit with the ladies, that’s all I can say . . .

Not only does he sing like it’s his last chance, he also plays the piano – and my God, does he know how to handle one of those. I bet he can tinkle out a concerto while flossing his teeth and trimming his toenails.

When I found out he was coming to London, I booked tickets.

‘Chloe, do you want to go and see John Legend?’ I asked, leaning back in my chair and peering into the hallway. I could see her moisturising her legs over the bath with a towel around her middle. She looked like something from an advert, her skin had that glow to it.

‘Urgh, God no. Why don’t you take Sienna?’ echoed her reply from the bathroom.

‘OK.’

Had I been hoping that would happen all along? I knew Chloe would think John Legend was totally uncool.

‘Si, have you got a sec?’ I whispered down the phone, excitement filling my chest.

‘Yes, sweets, what’s up?’ she replied. I could hear her dad talking to someone in the background.

‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’

‘What?’

‘I’m taking you out on Thursday night, you and me. You are free then, right? Please say you are?’ I pleaded, fiddling with a coaster on my study desk. It was a see-through plastic one with a photo of Ross and me man-hugging each other on a booze-fuelled night out.

‘Oh, that sounds exciting, Nick!’ she responded before putting a hand over the receiver and checking that someone would be around for her dad.

‘Yes, count me in! I’m really looking forward to it, whatever it is,’ she giggled, putting the phone down.

I was so pleased she could come. Our relationships meant we had spent little time together recently. This would be our chance to have some fun, like we used to before life got so complicated.

The week went really quickly, and while work was hectic all I could think about was Thursday night. I just knew she would love it, and things had been quite full on with her father lately, so she needed someone to do a nice thing for her. I had the kind of relationship with Sienna that just inspired me to be a better person.

It was a sticky summer evening when I waited for Sienna outside the Brixton Academy. The back of my T-shirt was a tiny bit damp from the tube journey and I sought an escape from the heat by running a cold can of Coke over my forehead. Ticket touts were wandering around, cigarettes hanging from their mouths, trying to sell tickets to people who already had them. I couldn’t help but feel they were missing a trick there.

Five minutes melted into ten, then fifteen. Sienna was late, and she’s hardly ever late. I started to worry. What if something had happened to her dad? I was wondering if I should call when I suddenly heard my name being shouted from a distance. I looked up to see Sienna running towards me, her hair streaming through the wind, a gorgeous smile on her face. She was wearing skinny jeans with a pair of hi-top Converse trainers and a tight black T-shirt. Even this simple outfit made her look like a model. Mind you, she would look like a model with a bin bag on; it had nothing to do with the clothes.

Men turned their heads as she darted through the crowds of people standing around on the street. She was attracting quite a lot of attention, so I felt very proud when she ran up and flung her arms around me like she hadn’t seen me for years. She smelled lovely. Her hair smelled delicious – I wanted to bury my face in it. But no, that wasn’t how I was supposed to think any more, so I quickly pushed those thoughts out of my head.

‘Now, Sienna, look up there,’ I said when I had finally prised her off my chest, and pointed to the big cinema-style letters above the concert venue. I was standing behind her with both hands on her shoulders.

There it was, in bold black lettering: J.O.H.N L.E.G.E.N.D L.I.V.E T.O.N.I.G.H.T

She opened her mouth and covered her face with her hands. Wow, she was really touched by this. I’d thought she might figure out what I’d planned and spoil the surprise, but her reaction seemed quite genuine.

‘Oh my God, Nick, thank you so much,’ she said, holding my hands and flashing that megawatt smile in my direction again.

‘Come on, then,’ I said, pulling her towards the entrance and extending a leg Basil Fawlty style.

As we walked, she gave me a kiss on the cheek. A short, sweet, ‘thank you, friend’ kiss on the cheek. I wanted to peel it off my face and stick it in a frame.

An impatient woman tore our tickets in half and ushered us through the double doors and into the circular darkness of the venue. The stage was illuminated with blue and green lights. It was so exciting.

We made our way to the bar where I flinched as I paid three times over the odds for a flat beer and a watered-down glass of wine. A famous DJ I’ve never even heard of was the warm-up act, swamping the room with beats and bass as it filled with chattering people; he was playing a host of hip-hop tunes, which I recognised but knew none of the words to. I suddenly felt old. Sienna, however, was mouthing each and every line. Moving her body gently to the beat of the music. It was so good to see her happy and relaxed.

‘How’s George?’ I shouted above the buzz, squinting as a strobe light was tested right in my line of vision.

‘Not great, Nick. He’s been a lot worse lately. They’ve changed his medication and it isn’t going so well. That’s why I had to make sure his friend could keep an eye on him tonight because he can’t be properly alone at the moment.’ She stood on her tiptoes to see the stage as it was being set up. Five members of staff dressed all in black were plugging wires into various sockets and tapping on microphones.

I held her hand and pulled her through to a spot very close to the front. ‘I’m sorry, Si. Is there anything I can do?’

I realised the absurdity of the comment as soon as I made it. Of course there was nothing I could do. I was about as useful as a chocolate fireguard. I wished there was something I could do to make things better.

‘No, no. There isn’t anything, thanks. Although he would like to see you soon. He’s investigating human sense disorders at the moment – you know, people who can taste colour, smell sound and all that . . .’ She rolled her eyes affectionately.

‘I’m sure that can be arranged.’

After we’d been standing around for an hour listening to the DJ, Mr Legend finally came out. He was wearing a skinny grey suit and looked so good, I think every man in the room cringed in unison while their girlfriends swooned. Why would you take your girlfriend to one of his gigs?

There was a glossy black piano in the middle of the stage, waiting and wishing, like most of the women in the room, for the soulster to run his expert hands all over it. A small gospel choir was revealed at the back of the stage as a curtain rose. They had those wholesome smiles you only ever see on people who sing their cares away at the crack of dawn every Sunday, as opposed to lying in bed with a filthy hangover.

The room went quiet and he pulled up his stool, playing the first note of the night. It reverberated through the sound system perfectly. I knew this was going to be mind-blowing. Sienna was so excited she could barely contain herself. The music gave me the same warm feeling inside that I get when I am with Sienna. The two combined were setting my heart on fire.

Halfway through the third song Sienna’s hand brushed against mine and I thought for a second she was going to hold it. I panicked momentarily before realising it was just an accident. This really wasn’t getting any easier. After going to the bar for the second time, I thought it might be a good opportunity to ask how things had been going with Ben.

‘Oh fine, thanks, yeah,’ she whispered into my ear, keeping her eyes firmly on the stage.

‘Just fine?’ I asked quietly, horribly aware that the music could go quiet at any moment, leaving me shouting out across the room.

‘Well. It’s a bit difficult. He seems to have some fairly serious family problems I didn’t know about, and instead of letting me help him, he’s shutting me out. He just seems a bit distant sometimes and I don’t understand why he won’t talk to me about it, because you know, I might be able to help,’ she finished, her eyes squinting in the glittering lights.

Distant? How anyone could keep any kind of distance from Sienna was beyond me.

‘I’m sure he’ll be back to his old self soon,’ I responded positively.

She nodded silently and I couldn’t help but notice how stunning her profile was.

I was trying really hard to be positive about this. I wanted Sienna to be happy, and Ben was by far the closest I had seen a man get to making her happy. The others, quite frankly, had been a disaster. Turning up late for birthdays, calling her the wrong name (no joke, she got called Fiona once), being too young and selfish . . .

We went back to watching the gig when something mortifying happened. I mean genuinely, really, deeply embarrassing.

‘So, this next song is for all the people in love,’ came the smooth voice of Mr Legend as he addressed the crowd, his hands hovering above the ivory keys in front of him. ‘Y’all tell me if you’re in love right now, Brixton!’ he shouted, rising from the piano until he was standing in the centre of the stage.

The heat coming from the lights was creating small beads of sweat on his skin as the crowed roared out. Oh, come on, surely not everyone in this room was in love with someone, were they? Ridiculous.

Sienna and I stayed quiet, which I guess was a bad thing, looking back. He held the mike casually in his right hand. If I’d been up there I’d probably have started trembling like a leaf and just stood there in terror-induced silence under the spotlight while people threw their drinks at me.

‘So for my final song, I want to sing this to some people in love. Do you think I can find two people who love each other in this room?’ he cried, waving his arms in the air. More people screamed. One woman near the front fainted.

God, he was cool, I thought. Why can’t I be a bit more cool? Then my thoughts were interrupted.

‘You, over there in the blue shirt, I want you to come up here,’ the singer said, crouching down at the front of the stage and smiling at some poor sod who was about to be hauled on to the stage.

Unlucky git, I thought smugly. Then: that’s funny, he’s pointing in my direction. I’m wearing a blue shirt too. Holy shit . . .

‘Yeah, you, c’mon!’ he said once more.

All of a sudden the crowd parted and it was just Sienna and I standing in isolation, our mouths wide open like farm animals selected for the slaughter. The rest of the herd turned and stared at us, smiling and whooping.

‘No, no, you don’t understand, she’s not my . . .’ I tried to speak but my voice was a mere squeak. Butterflies swamped my chest and my legs turned to mush. Oh no, I was going to faint like a girl, wasn’t I? I could see my face fill the large screen to the side of the stage, the camera pointing straight at me. They were filming this too? Shit. Shit. Shit.

‘Come on fella, now don’t be shy,’ said Legend one more time in his heavy American drawl, the enterprising smile still plastered across his face.

Next thing I knew, two security guards were ushering me towards the stage. Oh bollocks. I thrashed my arms around towards Sienna who was standing there, smiling, both hands to her face as if she was praying. Thanks a lot, Si. I’m going to need a prayer now. She was getting further and further away.

‘Guys, guys,’ I frantically whispered to the guards, trying in a terribly British way not to cause a scene. ‘You don’t understand, she isn’t my g—’

‘Oh, chill out, mate,’ said one of them, laughing to the other. I couldn’t work out which one of them had the shinier skull. It was like being led to my own execution by two men built like oak trees with bowling balls for heads.

As I was led to the left-hand side of the stage where the steps were, we marched past what seemed like dozens of people all clapping and smiling and waiting for something really romantic to happen. Well, they could sod off. I have a girlfriend, Sienna has a boyfriend, this is all just a big mistake.

I realised something deeply humiliating was going to occur and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. Yup. I, Nick Redland, was about to be pulled up on stage in front of thousands of people and filmed making an utter twat of myself. And I’d paid for this. I had paid for my own humiliation. Brilliant.

I have always feared the whole going onstage thing since I was picked out at the circus at the age of five and promptly threw up all over a clown’s lap. It was awful.

We reached the stairs.

One. Two. Three. Four. Stage.

‘Ah, here he is,’ said Mr Legend as he walked towards me and took my arm gently. Everyone clapped. Gosh he was handsome.

‘What’s your name, bro?’ he asked before turning the microphone towards my quivering mouth. I wanted to bite it so it would stop working, but that would have been a bit weird. I’d have definitely ended up in the papers for that. I imagined a picture of me on the front page, a mouth full of metal and blood, frayed wire poking out from between my lips.

‘Nick,’ I replied moodily.

‘Well, everyone, this is Nick. Say hello to Nick.’

The whole crowd shouted my name back to him. Oh shit. They knew my name now and everything.

He pulled me in front of the piano and kneeled down towards the people gathered below him, his eyes scanning back to where we had been standing.