Chapter 55

"I thought you'd be nervous," Tony observed, perching himself on the arm of the Lorraine's chair.

"Why?" she asked. "I can play, and it's not like anyone here's not already made their opinion of me. I'm good. There's no reason for them to judge me har..." she cut off as Tony pressed a finger to her lips.

"I see," he said, holding back a laugh. "It's good that you're not nervous, or you'd start jabbering."

"Shut up." She leant into him, taking a deep breath and looking around the flat's familiar sitting room, turned into a music room for the evening. "I'm surprised they're auditioning here, though. You never know who might want to turn up."

"I'm surprised more people haven't. You and Aiden, so far."

"And him without a drum kit."

"Is Corrine auditioning?"

"I don't think so. I think she just came with Aiden."

"Ah, it's a hard life being a trainee groupie."

"Trainee groupie?" Lorraine giggled, speaking a little louder than she'd expected.

"Trainee groupie. That sounds like an interesting career choice." Aiden looked over. "Is that like an apprenticeship scheme?"

"You're overqualified," Corrine told him, bluntly.

"Anyway, you can't be a groupie if you're in the band," Lorraine reminded him.

"What do you call the idiot that can't play music and hangs around with the band?" Aiden asked, with a broad smile.

"The drummer," Hope supplied, emerging from the kitchen. "Are you guys ready?"

"Just about," Aiden answered, looking to Lorraine who just nodded.

"I see Lorraine's sax," Hope said, "but I don't see a drum-kit?"

"A kit?" Aiden shook his head. "I've tried to tell you about five times, I'm not a rock-drummer."

"It doesn't matter what sort of drummer you are, you still need a kit, Aiden."

"Have you ever watched a marching band?" he asked. "I played side, snare and bass at different times. I ended up as the drum-major, but I've never sat at a stool with a kit."

"You told me he was a drummer!" Hope said, turning on Corrine.

"That's what he told me. I didn't go into it too much," Corrine said, trying not to laugh.

"I used to play in a marching band," Lorraine put in, trying to defuse the situation. "Was that a cadet band?"

"Military school," Aiden explained. "If you could play you got roped into it."

"You went to a military school?" Tony asked. "It doesn't seem to have had much of an effect on you,"

Aiden laughed, gathering up his shoulder-length hair and pulling it out to the side.

"Are you kidding? I'm a dyed-in-the-wool, right wing, buzz cut nuke-lover just waiting for my degree so I can go'n bomb I-raq. This is just a disguise to keep the Jihadists away."

"He's joking," Hope whispered in Marcus' ear as his eyes widened a little.

"I would have figured that out," He called, then blushed slightly as people turned to see what he was shouting about. "Never mind," he told them, and Aiden pulled a pair of drumsticks from his pocket and rattled them for a moment on the back of the sofa.

"Do you actually have a drum?" Hope asked, desperately.

"Well, that depends." Aiden gave an apologetic shrug. "I have one... but it's at home. I borrowed these."

"And by home, of course, you don't mean 'at the dorm', do you?"

"Only if the dorm's moved to the Shankill Road."

"Then why are you here?"

Aiden turned slightly as Shawna opened the door and scurried in, shaking water from her coat.

"I figured if I turned up tonight, you and Shawna might give me a chance to actually get a word in edgeways and explain this."

"Explain what?" Shawna looked up, brushing her hands through her hair to shake some of the rain out of it. "Where's your kit?"

"He's a military drummer, Sho, '" Hope explained with a grimace. "He marches when he plays — which is during the holidays, because his drum's at home."

"Can he keep a beat?"

"We don't know yet, but what's he supposed to keep a beat on?"

"Anything." She shivered slightly, kissing Marcus as she passed him with a smile, heading into the kitchen. "The table. A wall. Doesn't matter. We can borrow a drum-kit from somewhere if we need one later, but we can't necessarily borrow a drummer."

She emerged back into the sitting area where Aiden pulled the footstool over and lowered himself onto it. He quickly rattled out a series of ruffles on the surface of the table, alternating fast and slow and lifting his hands clear on several occasions until he finished with a shrug.

"That's it?" Shawna frowned.

"What were you expecting? All three sections of 'Beat the Retreat'?"

"I don't know," she admitted, sighing. "Well, thanks anyway. We'll have to think about it." She moved near Marcus, sharing a relieved look with Hope on the way.

"Right. Lorraine," Hope said, taking over, "are you ready?"

"Yep." She stood up, picking her sax up from where it rested in its case.

"What are you going to play?" Shawna asked.

"Well, I picked a couple of the more obvious tracks — 'Baker Street' and 'Simply the Best.'"

"I don't know the first one to play," Marcus said, "but I do know the Tina Turner one."

"That'll be fine," Lorraine smiled. "I can carry the first one. I just need to show technique, right? Picking out particular tunes will come later."

"Sounds good to me," Hope said as she settled into place behind the keyboard, and Lorraine passed her a copy of the music — she'd already spoken to Marcus about his ability to sight-read. Hope played a brief intro, and Shawna sang rather unenthusiastically through the verses while Lorraine filled the room.

She was good, they could all tell, if perhaps a little out of practice. The second tune went better, with Shawna more enthusiastic about the more upbeat tune and Marcus lending balance to the music with his guitar.

By the end Lorraine was flushed with effort and adrenaline, and Aiden and Corrine were congratulating her for her performance.

"Right..." Hope finally spoke, trying to work out what Shawna was thinking. "We'll... if you give us a couple of minutes, we'll go talk about it, and we'll be back." She pointed towards the kitchen, and Shawna tugged Marcus arm to get him to follow. Lorraine was smiling nervously at them as they disappeared into the kitchen.

"So?" Shawna asked, as they pulled the door closed. "What did you think?"

"Well she was good," Hope admitted. Marcus, figuring it was a foregone conclusion given the quality of the performance, stood by the door waiting to return. Hope nodded in his direction, giving Shawna a questioning look.

"She was," Shawna confirmed. "But I'm not sure it really goes with the sort of music we want to be playing, does it?" Marcus, confused, turned to face them.

"But... we..." he stammered for a moment, searching for words, and Shawna patted his shoulder as she eased past.

"It's OK, we'll break it to her."

"It's all under control, Marcus," Hope assured him, following the redhead, and leaving him alone in the kitchen.

"OK, Lorraine. We had a talk about it," he heard Shawna saying, "and it was a great performance, but we're not really sure that a saxophone fits with what we're going to be playing."

"What? You're kidding me," Tony interjected. "That sounded great."

"It was good," Hope agreed. "It really was. It's not a talent or performance problem."

Marcus had followed them out into the room, and caught the tail end of Hope gesturing towards the kitchen — and considered the possibility she was pointing at him, though he couldn't make out if that had any significance.

"Alright." It came out as a whisper, and he cleared his throat and called again, silencing the discussion. "ALRIGHT... I've... I've had enough of this." He looked up at Hope and Shawna, and shrugged. "I don't know what's going on with you two, but this band isn't the fun I thought it was going to be. That was a great performance, and she fit well.