previously. When he saw her, he gave a vicious leer and threw another half-filled glass towards the stage, this one hitting Dan in the face and soaking him.
That was it. With a snarl, Dan pulled his bass from his shoulder and threw it against a speaker, storming off stage. For a few seconds the others continued to play, but soon ground to a halt as all coherence had been torn from their music.
This became the signal for the rest of the audience to break loose from their bonds of restraint. Glasses and even a few bottles—glass this time—fell as a shower, along with boos and hisses and the chant rising upwards again and again: “Optima! Optima!”
Dan , Tony and James realised they couldn’t keep up their defences any more and retreated from stage. Dianne’s own heart was in her mouth as she watched the empty stage with instruments left in place as roadies and security came on to keep the increasingly unruly crowd in place.
Her eyes were moving from left to right, looking for any sign of Cam, wondering whether to try and force her way through the people. As such, she did not notice him coming up behind her and jumped when he held onto her arm. At first, thinking it was the troublesome Frenchman, she turned expecting to launch into a stream of abuse, but her eyes flashed gratefully when she saw Cam instead, a coat over his arm.
His own expression, however, immediately caused her to be troubled again, especially as his eyes were fixed not on her but on the rest of the crowd as though he expected more bad news at any moment.
“Come on,” he said, bending down to talk quietly in her ear as he held her gently but firmly with his hand. “We better get out of her. Optima’s not coming on stage tonight, and when this lot finds out there’s likely to be a riot.”
Chapter Nine
There wasn’t exactly a riot as they left, but it was quite clear that the crowd’s mood had not settled after the earlier fracas and, if anything, was likely to get uglier. Keeping her head dipped down and, unconsciously, gripping her skirt against her thighs with one hand as Cam gripped the other tightly, she followed him out of Notre Dame into the night air.
The early summer air was warm but she was glad of the coat she had brought with her. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was approaching eleven o’clock and realised that Black Ark had been on stage for nearly two hours: the gig itself was meant to have continued well past midnight, but she was convinced now that Optima wouldn’t appear in front of the crowd they’d left behind.
“That man is a complete and utter prick!” Cam cursed under his breath. Dianne didn’t need to ask who he was talking about: she had only met Darius once, but in many respects he had not lived up to her expectations. No, she corrected herself—he had lived up to one possible outcome, that of the difficult artist, whose tantrums were worth putting up with if he was as much a genius as everyone thought he was. Cam, it seemed, did not share the majority view.
They were walking down the Rue de Rivoli now from what Dianne read on road signs. As they had left the nightclub, Cam’s attitude had been protective—even a little overbearing—but now he held her hand in a more relaxed fashion.
“It was a bit of a dump,” Dianne said in reply to his earlier curse. Cam looked at her, ruefully at first and then with a small, sad smile.
“Yeah, it was,” he agreed. “Mind you, Black Ark’s played quite a few of those in recent months.”
“And I’ve been in plenty of them,” Dianne told him. “I just wouldn’t... well, I wouldn’t expect a group as big as Optima to play there.”
“But a group as small as Black Ark, they’re fine, are they?” he snapped then, seeing her shocked and somewhat angry expression as she pulled her hand away, he relented immediately. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “It’s been one helluva night.”
Dianne frowned. “I understand, but I’m not going to
That was it. With a snarl, Dan pulled his bass from his shoulder and threw it against a speaker, storming off stage. For a few seconds the others continued to play, but soon ground to a halt as all coherence had been torn from their music.
This became the signal for the rest of the audience to break loose from their bonds of restraint. Glasses and even a few bottles—glass this time—fell as a shower, along with boos and hisses and the chant rising upwards again and again: “Optima! Optima!”
Dan , Tony and James realised they couldn’t keep up their defences any more and retreated from stage. Dianne’s own heart was in her mouth as she watched the empty stage with instruments left in place as roadies and security came on to keep the increasingly unruly crowd in place.
Her eyes were moving from left to right, looking for any sign of Cam, wondering whether to try and force her way through the people. As such, she did not notice him coming up behind her and jumped when he held onto her arm. At first, thinking it was the troublesome Frenchman, she turned expecting to launch into a stream of abuse, but her eyes flashed gratefully when she saw Cam instead, a coat over his arm.
His own expression, however, immediately caused her to be troubled again, especially as his eyes were fixed not on her but on the rest of the crowd as though he expected more bad news at any moment.
“Come on,” he said, bending down to talk quietly in her ear as he held her gently but firmly with his hand. “We better get out of her. Optima’s not coming on stage tonight, and when this lot finds out there’s likely to be a riot.”
Chapter Nine
There wasn’t exactly a riot as they left, but it was quite clear that the crowd’s mood had not settled after the earlier fracas and, if anything, was likely to get uglier. Keeping her head dipped down and, unconsciously, gripping her skirt against her thighs with one hand as Cam gripped the other tightly, she followed him out of Notre Dame into the night air.
The early summer air was warm but she was glad of the coat she had brought with her. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was approaching eleven o’clock and realised that Black Ark had been on stage for nearly two hours: the gig itself was meant to have continued well past midnight, but she was convinced now that Optima wouldn’t appear in front of the crowd they’d left behind.
“That man is a complete and utter prick!” Cam cursed under his breath. Dianne didn’t need to ask who he was talking about: she had only met Darius once, but in many respects he had not lived up to her expectations. No, she corrected herself—he had lived up to one possible outcome, that of the difficult artist, whose tantrums were worth putting up with if he was as much a genius as everyone thought he was. Cam, it seemed, did not share the majority view.
They were walking down the Rue de Rivoli now from what Dianne read on road signs. As they had left the nightclub, Cam’s attitude had been protective—even a little overbearing—but now he held her hand in a more relaxed fashion.
“It was a bit of a dump,” Dianne said in reply to his earlier curse. Cam looked at her, ruefully at first and then with a small, sad smile.
“Yeah, it was,” he agreed. “Mind you, Black Ark’s played quite a few of those in recent months.”
“And I’ve been in plenty of them,” Dianne told him. “I just wouldn’t... well, I wouldn’t expect a group as big as Optima to play there.”
“But a group as small as Black Ark, they’re fine, are they?” he snapped then, seeing her shocked and somewhat angry expression as she pulled her hand away, he relented immediately. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “It’s been one helluva night.”
Dianne frowned. “I understand, but I’m not going to
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