chapter forty-three, Tuesday:12thnovember2013 gig
“Honey, just go to Barbara’s black tie event, you promised, maybe you'll get some answers there?” She sips her drink looking at me over the brim of her heavy glass. “But you have to look incredible just in case he turns up with her.” Her inflection is suitably venomous, so I approve, though she shocks me with these words, it hadn’t occurred to me she might be there, of course she'd go, Barbara and Graham would invite her, and she wouldn’t turn down that opportunity would she? She's a woman with something other people covet, of course she'd show.
“I don’t want to confront Daniel like that Pete,” I am sick at the thought. “I sent him a text and he hasn’t answered, I take that as a bad sign.” I tell her, I am tired, tired of thinking about Daniel, talking about Daniel and feeling punched and sore.
“Then turn up, look stunning, be you, behave impeccably and leave.” She puts down her glass triumphantly as if the plan is now set. And she is right. My friend has set my brain in motion, I’m going back to being me, what would I do? Pete will be there of course with James.
At that moment clarity hits me like a freight train. I would sort this thing out like I would a missing shoe, I’d get it put back on. My mind loves horse-related metaphors. I am back, resolved, I order another triple straight up to celebrate. It works.
Daniel is late, I check my Dads watch like a nervous tick ever few seconds. I stand in the foyer of the club and the support band is finishing. My brain says thank goodness, Depeche Mode they are certainly not! Daniel has agreed to honour a long standing date with me at this gig, but we are not together. I am clear in my head about that, and rinse and repeat my own words back at me hoping, one time, I could feel it is true. Maybe, fiftieth time really is a charm?
I decide to text him:
TC: “It's me”
DP: “Hi”
TC: Monosyllabic, “where are you?”
DP: “Working” what else?
TC: “Can you meet me here?” Are you even coming now?
DP: “I’ll try” infuriating
TC: “That's all I’m asking Daniel” don’t do me any favours.
DP: “I might be late” of course you might.
Can’t be mad, we’re not together.
Wearing a jersey mini dress and twenty four-hole DM's, an oversized leather biker jacket and a McQueen skull scarf, a new one from James, I wait. It's draughty standing here, but it’s where we agreed to meet. I can’t miss the show, I’m cross but I decide to enjoy my evening regardless, how did I allow myself to base my happiness on another person, I am used to being by myself, get a grip.
EC: “And I’m watching Kerrang is that right Catharine?” Bloody hell.
TC: “Yes Kerrang channel, he's starting now, switch it on” there won't be any Barbara Streisand on that channel you know.
EC: “Thanks Ex” god.
TC: “Got it?” Please say yes.
EC: “It’s terribly loud Catharine” bloody hell.
TC: “It's supposed to be Mum, you want to hear it as Henry intended it don't you?” Help me someone.
EC: “Do they play Streisand on this channel too?” Bloody hell no!!!!
Phone on vibrate and stowed in my clutch I head into the venue, three sections of dark red carpeted stairs heading down, it's dark and sticky and smells of stale beer, just how I like it. The clientèle are grown-up 'Goths' and punks, old biker jackets, vintage band t's, and tattoos everywhere. The atmosphere smells of a heady mixture of petuli oil, weed and snakebite, our beverage of choice.
The band are on stage in a spooky set, dark strobes flick and cross over the stage and in the swirling cover of a dry ice cloud my Brother is at the mic, guitar in hand and the crowd is silent for a moment, then he jabs his fist in the air, fireworks clap behind him sending a rain of glowing orange sparks into the air, and a roaring cheer erupts and the whole floor beneath me vibrates with feet stomping. The set is brilliant, I only check my phone once imagining I feel it vibrate, but it must be the heavy bass blasting through the great Marshall speakers that I’m standing close to in the VIP enclosure. I dance and sing all through it, my throat hoarse and dry form exertion, for forty minutes I forget Daniel and that he should be here.
TC: “Good luck Henry” I hadn’t expected him to answer, he'd be pacing up and down getting nervous about forgetting the words to the new single.
HC: “Thought I wouldn’t answer? Enjoy the show Sis Hx” phew.
That was then, and I am enjoying his show.
I stand in the dark, leaning over the rail that separates me from the crowd, I look down at the hive of dancers and the heaving whirlwind of the ‘mosh’ and remember when that used to be me down there, something has changed in me, and I’m learning to enjoy it.
I feel someone behind me, this restricted area is for friends and family of the band so chances are I wouldn’t know them since the band change their alliances more often than politicians. I choose to watch the show. Suddenly the man is close behind me, pushing his hard body into mine, a delicious smell. Daniel.
All the old feelings come rushing back to me, and the warm soft face against mine, kissing my neck, my body responds and I push my behind into him hoping to feel him, I have missed him and suddenly everything that has passed between us seems silly, he’s here with me isn’t he?
Exit at A at extended trot.
He groans, I can’t hear it but I feel the vibration it makes through my body as he wraps his strong arms around my waist and pulls me into him. His cock hard and waiting, and his hot lips trailing my neck and nibbling my jaw. I make a move to turn into him, desperate to kiss him, he says no, and holds me facing the throng of the crowd.
His hands move up my back under my jacket, caressing my spine and waist, my insides ignite with pleasure and my needy sex is wet for him. His hands are around my arse, involuntarily I grind my body into him, reaching behind me I trace my hand along the hard shape of his penis, he moans in my ear, and I massage it through the denim. His hands are under the fall of the curve of my arse, so sensitive, even over my dress, Daniel pulls up its hem, I gasp, there’s all these people here, I look around and everyone watching the show, they’re not looking at us.
I love this song.
His fingertips are stroking inside my thigh, my sex becomes desperate for him to touch me there, I move into his hand, I like that yes, tracing the trail between my legs, setting me alight and wanting, he gently teases me as his fingers move under my knickers, and they are out again.
His hands move over my stomach pulling up my dress more, and pressing himself into my hand and I work to unzip his jeans. His hand slides down the front inside my panties and heads to the throbbing tingling area that’s my wet and trembling sex.
The vibration of the amp thumps through our bodies. Quickly rubbing his thumb over my little mound, my nerves are building rhythm, and gaining momentum, I quiver and he continues his genius at playing my * like an instrument. Around the folds and cleft of my labium, slick with my juice, he hums appreciatively in my ear. A finger slides inside me, I shut my eyes, its excruciatingly erotic standing here amongst thousands of people, getting away with this, this exquisite feeling building in me, I have released Daniels hard thick hot cock from his jeans, and he wriggles closer to me so his flesh is touching my naked arse. Warm, nice.
He slides a second and third finger in, slowly moving in and out of me in time to the drumbeats, massaging the front wall of my opening, it’s delicious and I start to climb.
My fingers are stroking his balls, I love the way they feel in my hand and behind me he groans and moans. I feel from close behind me as I move to grab the base of his cock strongly, then with the gentler grip begin a slow pumping. I find the bulb of his tip, a tiny drop of pre-cum beads at the end and I slide my fingers into it give me easier slippery movement. I love masturbating Daniel, it so hot, the look in his face I am recalling it, it turns me on more, I am so wet for him.
His fingers are in and out harder now and faster, we are in time with each other, I am getting hotter, and losing my breath, I wriggle under his expert handling of my body, trying to get a purchase to get off, to finish. I love how he makes me feel, such pleasure, I am in sweet agony with wanting him.
Daniel bands me around my waist and pulls my bottom hard into him so I tip my body forward which is exactly what he wants. To be inside me from behind. Grabbing the rail with both hands my eyes open and watching the crowd, he slides his huge slippery dick slowly inside me, filling me completely up. Coming close to me he moves in and out with shallow thrusts, in time to the music then and the song gets to its conclusion. The drums are louder, he pumps into me hard, fast, spilling himself into me in a hot jet of seamen, as he rolls my * in his fingers and I cum and a cascade of tingly hot feelings crash over me, I feel wanten, naughty, happy, slippery.
We straighten ourselves out and clap furiously at the end of the song but our claps are for each other. He has f*cked me every time he's wanted to, no question, no argument, I am excited, and enchanted too, as he gently kisses me from behind, tilting my face up and back to meet his lips. “I have to go.” That’s all, and as my body begins its recovery of just being f*cked, he leaves me, standing there alone again.
An intense emptiness overwhelms me suddenly from ecstasy to exile in thirty seconds. Is this how it's going to be? I am alone, in more ways than one, wet, and achy, I can still feel inside where his cock pushed into me, now empty. Three more songs play and the last is my favourite 'curry night', and determined to come back to reality and enjoy my Brothers set I sing at the top of my voice, yes, my brain tells me, you're happy about all this. He turned up, screwed you to the railing and left, it was awesome. I feel filthy, but I love it, I have healed quickly, it’s not conventional, but I’m hardly regular am I?
I feel strong, I can f*ck Daniel and get on with my life, no passing ‘go’ or collecting £200. I love a Monopoly reference.
My Sister privilege back stage pass lets my through a heap of black satin bomber wearing bouncers, (you know the type, with orange linings?) No necks, their massive shaved heads come direct from their shoulders, their ears pierced. Spotting me Henry dismisses everyone and comes toward me, he looks stunning, tall and strong his tattoos are black and Gothic and his resin coated black jeans skinny. I am full of happiness for him, the show is a success, and it shows in his eyes, stormy grey like mine.
The press are everywhere taking after gig shots of the band, a great looking group of boys, the drummer an old flame of mine. Beautiful model-grade women are everywhere, slinking through the crowd like cats brushing their scent around your legs. Nature, I wonder, is a wonderful thing.
I text, well I’m only human.
TC: “Thank you for that.” Now I’m not so sure, I have sent it but now I feel used, and it's dirty.
DP: “Glad to be of assistance.” well, what else was he going to say?
Henry looks sadly at me, his head tilted to one side, questioning me without talking.
TC: “Please don't ever do that to me again Daniel, I deserve more.” true story.
Nothing form him.
Everyone’s drinking shots, and a tray of stout heavy little glasses is offered around with Jack in them, I take one and it glides easily down my throat burning as it goes, replacing the empty on the carried tray, I grab another.
I spend some time with Henry, congratulating him, and kiss him goodnight. "You OK girl, you look blue?" He stops me and asks, "where's Daniel, I thought you were bringing him?"
"The very source of my blues Henry." I lower my head in pain, sore between my legs where Daniel once was, connected to me profoundly. “But, it'll be fine.”
“You like him don’t you?” Looking up as someone’s shouts his name, it’s his night. I dismiss him from his family duty to stay with me.
"Great set, well done." I say instead of any excuse, “curry night is brilliant live,” because I don't know why he's not here. The photographer from Melody Maker snaps us saying goodbye and I head outside through the stage door at the back of the building.
Stan is waiting for me, I am not at all surprised, "Miss Charles, can I take you somewhere?"
"Daniel sent you?" Busted.
He nods embarrassed, "it's late and not safe out here by yourself so hop in, I’ll take you home." Grateful for the slightest contact with Daniel I accept.
“Your charge is a very frustrating man,” I tell Stan as I slide into the back seat, “have you had to drive around town picking up all his wayward girlfriends Stan?” I ask lowering my eyes to click in my seatbelt, I may be slightly pissed, but safety first.
“No Tharie,” he stares at me in his rear-view mirror, “only you.” And pulling away I take that as an end to the conversation.
Where was Daniel tonight?
Suddenly I feel alone, and not in an ‘I can take on the world’ way, a deep sense of dread fills my heart, he doesn’t love me, he just wants a handy and ready shag-buddy.
Well, I think I’ve put a stop to that eh?
Ashamed at myself, but pleased too, I reason that I’ll be by myself again really soon. I didn’t realise how much it hurts until now, and I start to cry.