I knew it was only a matter of time until the paps showed up, though.
“I’m having a great time, thanks.”
I fisted the car key as more flashes went off. A glance to my left showed three more women with cameras jumping out of cars, and a man too. I shook my head.
“This road is for residents only, you know? You can’t park in front of their houses.”
“We move when they tell us to.”
The man who replied to me had a camera, but wasn’t flashing so I assumed he was likely recording his interaction with me.
“Nervous about playing in Wembley next week?”
“Nope.” I answered the shortest woman as I approached the car. “We can’t wait. Wembley filled to the brim with Sinners? You can’t get a better atmosphere than that, love.”
“Is Nora Maxwell going to be attending the concert?” another voice asked. “She’s in London right now.”
“I have no idea.” I unlocked the car door. “If she has time in her busy schedule to come by and see a show, I’d love that.”
“C’mon, Risk. We all know you’re dating Nora.”
I glanced at the woman. “That’s news to me, darlin’.”
She snorted, not buying what I was selling, but I didn’t care. The media rarely believed the truth because most of the time it was boring and didn’t earn them clicks or likes online. Attaching my name to Nora’s was much more exciting because she was a beautiful, famous actress who, in the past two years, had blown onto the Hollywood scene. She was a Londoner, and although we went on two dates before I went to rehab, and had sex I could barely remember at the end of both of those dates, we weren’t dating and never were.
The media thought otherwise though.
“Risk!” the man butted in. “What’s all this talk about you and May having plenty of behind-closed-doors arguments? Are you kicking him from the band?”
For God’s sake.
“Firstly, Blood Oath is not my band. It belongs to all four of us, just because I’m the main vocalist doesn’t mean I run shit because I don’t.” I opened the car door and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Secondly, I argued with May about how brown toast should be this morning so yeah, we argue a lot. Always have, always will, but he’s my brother. They all are. No one is leaving Blood Oath so all that talk you mentioned is a load of squit. Just like everything else you’ve probably heard about us breaking up or going solo.”
I closed the door before the vultures could ask another question. The flashes from their cameras continued to go off and I appreciated the tinted windows of the car. I started the engine and pulled away from the kerb, noting the paps rushing back to their cars in my rearview mirror.
“Fucking arseholes.”
I knew they were going to follow me, so I couldn’t drive directly to Frankie’s house. Instead, I decided to take them on a wild goose chase. For two hours, I drove around Southwold, up to Reydon, then when I came back to Southwold, I drove down some of the one way lane roads. I cleared the lane before the paps behind me did and when a group of kids walked across the pedestrian crossing behind me, I grinned. One of the kids bent down to tie their shoelace and the paps blew their horn at them. The kids jumped, but instantly threw insults at the vultures for scaring them and didn’t move an inch.
I laughed as I drove away and headed for Frankie’s place.
All this would have been a waste of time if she wasn’t home, or worse, if she didn’t live there anymore. She could have moved into her mum’s old house when I left Southwold. She could have moved in with a boyfriend. She could have moved into Dr O’Rourke’s home. May’s mum and dad attended their small wedding a few months after I moved away. I drove up Pier Avenue and it felt so familiar to me, a feeling of belonging filled me. I didn’t have that feeling when I drove to my home in Beverly Hills or to my townhouse in London. Southwold was my home even though I didn’t live there.
I didn’t even live in the cottage we rented from Dr O’Rourke for very long before I left, but I could remember driving along this street on my way home to Frankie most nights after a long session at the studio. It was a dream area to live in. The pier and beach were a stone’s throw away from the cottage; waking up and looking out of the window in the morning and staring out at the ocean was a favourite pastime of mine. I loved it and I know Frankie did too.
When the cottage came into view, I saw a small, beat-up Ford Focus in the driveway. I stopped outside of the cottage and suddenly felt sick with nerves. I fucked up majorly with her the night before. I was cruel, just like she said I was. I turned into a massive prick just because she hurt my feelings. I should have been man enough to tell her that her reaction to me wasn’t something I liked but, instead, I was a complete prick. Angel was right. I had to apologise and pray Frankie would forgive me because not only did she look incredibly hurt in the car park of Mary Well’s, she looked spitting mad too.