and got a rousing cheer. “This is the first gig of our twenty-three city tour.”
Rand broke in, “Twenty-five cities.”
She cut Rand a look. The one that could liquefy metal. Jake felt it in his knees. She said, “Shut the fuck up,” and fifty thousand people laughed.
Rand shook his head in an exaggerated way. “I tell you Adelaide, when your kid sister asks you to join her band—run.” There was more laughter. Jake looked at Bodge and Tef and saw his own lip-splitting grin mirrored.
Stu said, “Yeah,” and in turn each of the band members echoed that ‘yeah.’ Then Stu added, “I thought it was your band, Rand,” starting another round of ‘yeahs’.
From the mosh-pit there were calls of, ‘I love you, Rand,’ and ‘I want your baby, Stu’. Even funny man Roley got a verbal love note and came out to the edge of the stage to ham it up, while behind him, Rielle gave Rand a push and he pretend-stumbled—How giving him a drum beat and a cymbal crash to accompany his footfall, and the female portion of the audience screamed.
Rielle yelled, “You didn’t come to see us fight, you came to hear the music, right?” and pumped her fist to the accompanying shouts of assent. Jake exchanged another look with Bodge. There were other things he could be doing, but they’d wait. Getting this new experience of Rielle—like a fresh breath, like an unconscious blink—wouldn’t. She belted out the opening refrain of the next song and the band followed her in.
Four more songs into the set and Rielle came off stage for a costume change. She brushed past Jake to get to Bodge who had a bottle of water, a towel and an enormous grin ready for her. She flashed a quick look at Jonas, got a thumbs up, and slipped back to her dressing room to change.
She was back on stage in less than four minutes, this time in a body-slick short black and silver dress and ankle boots. Four more songs til the break and then they’d all have twenty minutes to get prepared for the tougher second half.
From where Jake stood on the side of the stage with Jonas, Glen, Ron Teller and a couple of journalists, things looked to be going well, and sounding even better. No foul ups technically. The closest they’d gotten was How knocking a mic stand over, but a fleet footed Teflon scampered across the stage and righted it without incident. Everything was looking good at the front of house as well. No punch-ups, no fainting, no call on the St John’s Ambulance guys yet, and security was having an easy time of it after being worried about the whole Neddy thing earlier.
“She truly does rock,” said Glen.
Jake didn’t need Glen’s opinion to know that. He felt it in some deep core of himself. “Rand probably has a better voice, but she’s electric out there.” So much so, her image was seared on the back of his eyelids.
“She’s the bomb,” Glen agreed, and from the look on the faces of the three journalists, Jake figured he and Glen weren’t alone in their assessment. But something was niggling him about Rielle. She’d missed a cue. He’d only picked it because he’d watched a dozen rehearsals. Was that normal, or was she nervous?
Two seconds later, Bodge was holding out a bottle of water and a towel to Rand while Tef did the same for Stu on the other side of the stage.
Rand was scrutinising Rielle; Jake read concern on his face. She was on stage still singing what passed as a ballad for Ice Queen; nailing every note, hitting every spot. But Jake could see in the tremble of her hand on the old school mic she used that she wasn’t where she’d want to be in the performance. But then that’s why they’d started here in Adelaide.
Back on stage again, Rand and Stu kicked into the last two numbers of the ten set half. How was shirtless and looked deliriously happy. Roley was in his zone, master of the keyboard, and Rielle and Ceedee were teasing the punters at the stage edge with their short skirts, high heels and wide legged stances.
At the end of the second number, Rand said, “Take a break, Adelaide. We’ll be back in twenty minutes,” and the house lights came on.
Twenty minutes was enough time for the band to catch their breath, and Bodge’s support crew to run ragged re-setting the stage and the instrumentation for