clapping the audience back. Roley threw his latest wet t-shirt into the front row. How frisbeed a hat he’d worn, and Rand looked to Rielle. Jake knew there was one more song they could do. But Rielle shook her head quickly and moved her hand in a signal that meant ‘no’ and so, to the sound of shouting and stomping, Ice Queen left the stage in Adelaide for the last time.
10. After Party
When the stage went dead, the stadium house lights came on and Jake watched the last groups of rowdies make for the exits. They always sang badly, and this lot were no exception.
While the members of Ice Queen, Problem Children and assorted journalists, friends and hangers on—mostly guests of Problem Children’s lead singer, Jonathan Bennett—partied in the green room, the business of pulling down the stage and packing all the gear began. It would take all night and into the morning. They needed the trucks on the road in twelve hours’ time.
He sculled a bottle of water. He’d get a supper break later, but he needed to find Jonas to check on flight and hotel payment details first. He headed for the green room where the after party was in full swing. He skirted the edge of the room looking for Jonas. Saw Stu and Ceedee cuddled on a sofa, How and Problem Children’s drummer deep in conversation, a bored looking Jeremy swigging from a bottle of vodka, and Roley stretched out on another sofa asleep, or doing a good imitation of it. He couldn’t spot Jonas, Rand or Rielle and any one of them would have done for his purposes.
Someone shoved a beer in his hand, and he was about to quit the room and try again later, when he spotted Rielle. She was sitting on Jonathan Bennett’s knee. She looked flushed and drained, leaning into the lanky lead singer’s body and trailing her arm around his neck.
It could wait. Jake slipped out the nearest exit. He was half way back to the stage, when he heard Rielle call his name. He hesitated, allowing her to catch up, wondering what sort of mood she was in. Hellcat or pussycat?
“Are you happy with the gig?” he asked.
“I don’t want to talk about the gig,” she said, folding her arms defensively.
Okay, hellcat then. “What can I do for you?”
“I understand you aren’t flying with us tomorrow.”
“No. I’ll go with the road train.”
“That’s a bad decision, Jake.” She fixed him with bloodshot, tired eyes. “You should be with us.”
“Sharon’s in Perth already. Everything is set for your arrival. You don’t need me until the trucks arrive.”
“You can’t know that.”
Jake opened his mouth to give Rielle a stronger assurance, but she cut him off. “Jonas was drunk tonight. He’s passed out back there now.” She tossed her head to indicate the green room. “I don’t want you hours away if something goes wrong. I want you on the flight with us.”
This wasn’t the first time he’d been asked to fly with a band; and it wasn’t an outlandish request. It was perfectly reasonable under the circumstances. He sighed. “Right, I see your point. Of course. I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow.” He was mentally trying to remember where he’d packed the Zanect, so he could zone out and face air travel.
As he turned to go, Rielle said, “I need something else.” Her hand shot out and grabbed his forearm. “Can you get me out of here?”
Was that a note of panic he heard in her voice? She did look done-in. “Sure, I’ll call you a car and driver.”
“I don’t want a car. Will you take me for a ride?”
She might’ve asked him for more booze or food, to clear the green room, or any number of other things. This he didn’t expect. “Ah. Rielle, I have things to do, I…”
“I know you do, but I need to clear my head.”
Rielle held her breath. The show had been a struggle. She was tired and cranky with herself. She could’ve done better, needed to do better and right now she felt like hitting something or someone. Rand was settled in to party, and the only place she wanted to be was the back of Jake’s bike, speeding through the night, anonymous in his helmet, melded to the roar of the engine and swaying with the angle of the road as it met the Triumph’s rubber.
“I’ll call you a car, Rielle,” Jake said, turning to go. He was perfectly polite, reasonable and distant.