Come Alive. Madelynne Ellis
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are nuts.’
‘At least you’re here in one piece.’ Not only that, Ash sounded better. The last time they’d spoken, Xane had barely been able to understand one word in ten, Ash had been slurring and jumbling his words so badly.
‘Wherever the fuck here happens to be. I thought Sweden was supposed to be cold and snow-covered. As far as I can tell it’s predominantly lake.’
‘We’re a fraction west of Stockholm and a teeny bit further south.’
‘You’re assuming I could locate Stockholm on a map. I hear city names. I get on and off planes and in and out of buses. I don’t pay attention to where any of the places we perform are in relation to one another.’
That was true; geography had never been Ash’s subject of choice. Although it was foolish to imagine he was thick. The guy had a double first in history and philosophy from a world-class university.
‘Where’s this studio of Spook’s then?’
‘This way, I think, on the other side of these bushes. It’s right on the water’s edge. The lower floor floods on a regular basis, which is apparently a design feature, at least according to the estate agent.’ He raised his hands to convey his perplexity over that one. ‘Spook’s converted the upper storey.’
‘Shit ton of expensive electrical equipment installed over a swimming pool, that’s totally where I’d have installed it too.’ Ash rolled his eyes. ‘Why do I suspect it’s actually an elaborate method of containing us so that we work our butts off?’
‘It’s a pretty prison,’ Xane announced, for they’d reached the octagonal architectural folly. ‘Now, if I remember correctly –’ he leaped across a couple of stepping stones, getting the soles of his shoes wet, to reach the external double doors ‘– the inside is something of a spectacle.’
The reality, it turned out, was less garish than he remembered. Perhaps the lack of furnishings allowed the detailed mosaics to stand on their own. Ash didn’t seem to notice the winking mermaids and pincer-waving crabs. He headed straight for the metal staircase and followed the spiral to the upper storey. Xane quickly caught up. He didn’t know quite what he’d expected to find upstairs, but Spook or whoever he’d hired to refurbish the place and install the equipment had done a spectacular job. What had been a very dull guestroom was now an industry-standard sound studio, complete with top-of-the-range equipment and a separate soundproof recording booth that would also double nicely as a rehearsal space. Not only that, there was enough seating that no one was going to be left perching on the arm of a chair or sitting on the floor in a corner.
The designer had even had the presence of mind to include a WC in the plans, so they wouldn’t lose precious moments trekking back and forth to the main house, or pissing in the lake.
‘I was anticipating something far less flashy,’ Ash admitted.
‘Same.’ Xane idly pushed a few of the sliders on the sound deck. ‘I reckon we could record the whole of the next album here. No need to go anywhere else, we’ll just get the producer to come to us.’
‘It’s an option,’ Ash agreed.
The sound of footsteps thundering below caused them both to turn towards the stairs. A moment later Rock Giant’s head appeared, followed by the rest of him, plus both Spook and Luthor.
‘Ash!’ Rock Giant whooped. He scooped Ash off his feet and did a pirouette, holding him in mid-air, before dropping him and thumping him repeatedly across the back. ‘You’re here. You’re fucking here. Yes.’
Ash staggered and sank into the sofa behind him, whereupon Spook filled the seat beside him. ‘Good to see you in something that isn’t a granddad-style pair of pyjamas.’ Ash was wearing his favourite Danger Mouse T-shirt. It fit rather less snugly than it had the last time Xane had seen him in it.
‘We’re all here, I see,’ Ash commented, ignoring the reference to his recent hospital stay.
‘Does this mean we’re getting straight down to work?’
‘I think we ought to put our new boy through his paces first,’ Rock Giant said. He grabbed hold of Luthor and shoved him to the front of the huddle. ‘I know he did well on stage, but none of us were exactly looking out for faults. He’s a fully committed member of the gang now, so we ought to get to grips with one another’s playing styles.’
‘You just want to jam,’ Xane remarked. Luthor didn’t need to prove himself. They all knew he could play. Still, the consensus appeared to be that it wouldn’t hurt to pick up their instruments. Cases were dragged out of the corner where they’d been stacked, and amps and microphones plugged in and linked up. Ash’s beloved Gibson Les Paul was sadly no longer with them as it had smashed beneath him when he’d nosedived off the ego-riser in Karlstad, but someone, most likely their chief roadie, had procured another guitar.
Ash settled its strap across his shoulders. ‘White?’ he questioned. ‘Who thought that was a good idea for a goth band?’
‘It’s probably all the local music shop had. You can order something else. Maybe even get a custom-build,’ Spook suggested. ‘It’s not like you’re strapped for cash.’
‘What does he need to do that for? He has about fifteen other guitars at home,’ Rock Giant remarked, as he played a couple of test chords. ‘Phone your mum and get her to ship one of them out here.’
‘And what if it gets lost or damaged in transit?’
Spook nodded in horrified agreement over the possibility. His grip tightened around the neck of his purple Washburn, as if it were at risk of being torn from his hands.
Xane went to help Luthor set up the drumkit, and left the others snipping at one another. He knelt beside Luthor. ‘How’s your room?’
‘About what I’d expected when I heard it was an annex. There’s a bed, a wood stove … It’s fine.’
It sounded rather more rustic than Xane had anticipated, and Rock Giant’s sudden bellow of ‘Little House! You’re fucking not joking’ seemed to reflect that.
‘It’s not a house, it’s a chicken coop, and I’m not a fricking chicken.’ Rock Giant squared up against Spook. ‘I thought we were getting the guesthouse with the pool table and the PS4.’
‘I don’t have a pool table.’
Xane would lay money on Spook not owning a games console either. Spook might be seriously kick-ass at various assassin-style games, but he only ever played when he was cajoled into doing so. Most of the time, he was happy sticking things into his scrapbooks or shopping for yet another pair of baseball boots.
‘You don’t have a guesthouse either.’ Rock Giant flapped his arms and made clucking noises.
‘It’s specifically designed for guest accommodation. You’ll find that sort of wooden building all over Sweden.’
‘Bollocks it is.’
‘It is,’ Luthor muttered under his breath so that only Xane appeared to hear. ‘Not that I’m saying Rock Giant is wrong. Glass doors, a sloped roof and decent heating don’t change the fact that it’s basically two beds stuffed into a box.’
Xane helped tighten a particularly difficult bolt. ‘I’d offer you an alternative, but Dani wants to get settled in first.’
‘You mean she wants to keep you all to herself.’
‘Just for a bit. Give it a day or so.’
‘Nothing’s really changed, has it?’ Luthor remarked. Having finished arranging the kit, he stood and set his stool in position.
‘Everything’s changed.’ They could talk and touch and fuck without him having to feel guilty about it. Dani had accepted that, given his libido did rather rule his life and he couldn’t comprehend not indulging the disparate aspects of his sexuality, the best option