Chapter 11

August the previous year had been a happy time for Cassie, though she missed Ged terribly. She had seen Ged off and had been upset at the time, but thanks to emails, Skypes and phone calls between the two of them she was coping well. She had many friends and visited them, and they her. In addition there was her new job which took up a good deal of her time. She thought perhaps the coming year would pass more quickly than she had thought. She went to the Friday evenings at the pub when the little group was playing and singing Ged's songs in his absence. She chatted with Viccy, Fred and Hetty; they were kindred spirits, since they all missed Ged's presence.

It was there that at the end of August she bumped into Zak. It surprised her because she had forgotten that he had left the band. They chatted briefly, but it unsettled her. Somehow he was different: quieter, gentler and it intrigued her.

The following week he was there again and the week after that. The fourth week he sat down with her and bought her a pint of beer.

"You've changed, Zak," she said, feeling comfortable with him for the first time, she realised. She noted he looked cleaner, more groomed, with shorter hair.

"Yeah," he said, looking her in the eye. "You changed all that. When you caught me with Tracy I knew I'd thrown away the only good thing in my life. What I was doing was stupid. That's why I left the band; they are like quicksand, you sink into that way of doing things with them. I had to get away. So here I am, on the straight and narrow."

She also noted that he drank one pint of beer and that was all.

"You with anyone?" she asked, and had a fluttering of fear she did not understand.

"No," he said, almost sadly she thought. "I was going with someone, but we split. Not because of me this time," he hastened to add, with a ruthful smile. "We just were't suited for anything permanent."

"You'll find someone Zak," she assured him, laying her hand on his bare arm.

"Yeah, well," he said. "I blew it when I cheated on you." He stood. "Must be going," he said, and left hurriedly. He seemed choked up, she thought.

It was immediately after he had gone she saw the music magazine he had forgotten to pick up from the seat. She picked it up and idly skimmed through it as she listened to the group sing. Then she was arrested by an article on the band's tour. It took up two pages, and the first assessed the success of the tour and the individual gigs, commenting on the varying responses of the audiences in different countries.

Then came the humorous comments on the band's lifestyle. Their parties were documented for their wildness. Then came a paragraph and a couple of photos.

"Our quiet man, Mr Smith, still keeps clear on the 'smash and grab' parties the others go for, but he's found a girlfriend of his own. Annette the roadie. You can see they've really got something going on. They're together every night, and she's been seen going to his hotel bedroom in the evenings. You're a sly dog Mr Smith! And you with a girl at home!"

She sat frozen in her place, staring at the photo of Ged with his arm round her waist, and the other of them kissing. She felt deep fear and desperation. They were so far away, Cassie could not reach them. Then she was angry. What did the piece say? She was in his room every night? Her mind a blank, and her emotions running riot.

She roused herself and phoned Cheryl.

"Can I come round?" she asked plaintively as the tears began to fall.

"He's done what?" Cheryl exploded, as they sat with the universal healer of all ills in Britain – two steaming mugs of tea. Brian was out at a meeting.

"He's been fucking the roadie." She repeated the words, as it that would make them untrue. It had the reverse effect.

"Sorry, darling," her friend retorted, "I don't believe it. He wouldn't do that. Who told you this?"

"I saw it in NME." she said. "It was an aside at the end of a report on one of the gigs they did." She threw down the magazine onto the table, and Cheryl read the offending article.

"I still don't believe it," Cheryl asserted. "He's totally in love with you Cassie. There must be another explanation for the pictures."

"I don't know what to think." Cassie said, looking bleakly at Cheryl.

"Well, ask him," said Cheryl.

"I can't just say 'Hey Ged, are you sleeping with your roadie?' now can I?" Cassie smiled at the idea. "That would really show him how much I trust him. Anyway, he'd just tell me not to believe anything I read."

"I know," said Cheryl suddenly hitting on an idea. "Let's ask Judy. She reads all the gossip mags. If anything's going on, they'll have licked it up. If they have, you can tell him it's all over the press, and leave him to explain."

Judy was a university friend who was addicted to all the gossip and celebrity magazines. She talked of little else, to the annoyance of most of her friends. But she was such a good friend, they forgave her her addiction.

It was by now very late, after midnight, but they both knew Judy would still be awake. Cheryl accordingly phoned her, and asked her to research her magazine collection for information on the band's tour.

The results were not encouraging. The more high class magazines had little to say about the band, but the more scurrilous ones made hay of the outrageous behaviour of Peter and Amos. There were pictures of them with girls in various states of undress at clubs, their hands where they ought not to have been.

One magazine only referred to Ged. Referring to Ged as the boring one of the band, it gleefully reported seeing Ged and Annette in compromising situations. The photos were the same ones from the music magazine, but this magazine wrote of a 'long steamy kiss' before the two disappeared into his room 'for the night.'

They listened on the speaker phone as Judy relayed the information, and Cassie resolved to get the offending magazine.

"Don't forget," said Cheryl as Cassie left to go home, "These papers will say anything to get readership. Make sure before you say too much to Ged."

Cassie's mind was in turmoil. She decided to confront him with the press reports and demand an explanation. By the time she had walked home she was angry, and already felt he had betrayed her. but when she sat down with her laptop, she could not bring herself to do it. She dreaded his confirmation of the reports. She feared the end of their relationship, and it was sure that she would end it if he were guilty. So she did not email, but went to bed where she lay tossing and turning for some hours before drifting into a troubled sleep.

Over the weekend she did not contact him. She visited Cheryl again and they talked it through. It cleared her mind somewhat. Ged might not be guilty. The press were renowned for their inaccuracies, and downright lies to get readers. Hadn't Ged himself warned her about this very thing? She needed other sources of information.