security guard to be let through.
Please don’t let her leave , he thought, rushing out into the crowd to find her.
‘Hey. You came.’
Summer was just zipping up her jacket ready to face the cold night outside. She turned and smiled.
‘Shouldn’t you be backstage taking coke and drinking whisky?’ she asked, her head cocked in mock innocence.
Charlie laughed. ‘Me? I’m really just a square middle-class boy, but don’t tell this lot that,’ he grinned.
They propped themselves up at the bar as Charlie ordered two lagers, at the same time accepting assorted back-slaps from excited fans.
‘I think they loved it,’ whispered Summer as one pimply youth told Charlie he was wicked .
‘But what did you think?’
Summer wanted to tell him that his sexual presence seemed to fill this stage, that his heartfelt lyrics of love and loss had made her want to cry. But she couldn’t. She just didn’t know how to be around Charlie.
‘You were brilliant,’ she said simply.
‘Yeah, well,’ he said, looking at the floor, ‘playing the Monarch is a big step up for us. It’s one of the best places to play in London for an unsigned band because there’s always A&R people hanging about. Plus it’s got this incredible history. Everyone’s played here. Oasis, Coldplay, Chilli Peppers. Playing here is either the beginning or the end of the road for The Riots.’
Summer was still staring at her lager.
‘Are you going to drink that or just look at it?’ smiled Charlie.
‘You’ll never believe this,’ she said, ‘but I’ve never had a pint before.’
‘Good God! Where’ve you’ve been living? Mars?’
Her cheeks flushed with awkwardness. ‘No, in my mother’s universe.’
Charlie nodded. ‘Ah yes, someone told me after the wedding shoot that your mum was Molly Sinclair. So what was it? Champagne in your baby bottle?’
‘Something like that.’
He took a long slurp of beer that left a white frothy moustache on his lip. ‘Fuck. What must that be like, to have a supermodel as a mother? I bet your dad loved it,’ he winked.
‘Actually, I don’t really know my father.’
Charlie bowed his head in embarrassment. ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Summer, surprised at how easily she could talk to Charlie. ‘My mum lived in New York for a couple of years before I was born. She had an affair with this rich guy, Upper East side, rebel son from a good family, you know the sort. Anyway, she got pregnant and he dumped her. Seemslike it wasn’t in his family’s masterplan for him to settle down with some crazy model. My mum came back to London and never heard from him again.’
‘Don’t you ever want to find him?’
Summer shook her head defiantly. ‘After he abandoned us? No way. Anyway, I guess you don’t miss what you’ve never had.’
By the time Summer had finished the pint of lager, she felt light-headed and happy, and found herself growing more and more attracted to Charlie. It crossed her mind what Molly would think of him; when he had bought their drinks, she had seen him anxiously rattle around a few pound coins in the palm of his hand. She snorted. Molly would go spare .
But she wasn’t here looking for romance, she told herself. She was happy to be chatting to him, enjoying his company; most of all, she wanted Charlie McDonald to be her friend. It embarrassed her to think how few of them she had. She blamed it on her four-year hiatus in Japan, but the truth was that her nomadic youth had left her with few school friends and she rarely met anyone beyond her mother’s party circuit.
‘Can I buy you a drink?’
Summer looked up, expecting to see some spotty youth hitting on her, but it was a forty-something-year-old man in an expensive-looking jacket and jeans and the question was directed to Charlie.
‘Rob Harper,’ said the man, offering his hand. ‘I manage bands.’
‘Oh, wow, Rob Harper,’ said Charlie, ‘good to meet you, man. Yeah, I’ll have a
Please don’t let her leave , he thought, rushing out into the crowd to find her.
‘Hey. You came.’
Summer was just zipping up her jacket ready to face the cold night outside. She turned and smiled.
‘Shouldn’t you be backstage taking coke and drinking whisky?’ she asked, her head cocked in mock innocence.
Charlie laughed. ‘Me? I’m really just a square middle-class boy, but don’t tell this lot that,’ he grinned.
They propped themselves up at the bar as Charlie ordered two lagers, at the same time accepting assorted back-slaps from excited fans.
‘I think they loved it,’ whispered Summer as one pimply youth told Charlie he was wicked .
‘But what did you think?’
Summer wanted to tell him that his sexual presence seemed to fill this stage, that his heartfelt lyrics of love and loss had made her want to cry. But she couldn’t. She just didn’t know how to be around Charlie.
‘You were brilliant,’ she said simply.
‘Yeah, well,’ he said, looking at the floor, ‘playing the Monarch is a big step up for us. It’s one of the best places to play in London for an unsigned band because there’s always A&R people hanging about. Plus it’s got this incredible history. Everyone’s played here. Oasis, Coldplay, Chilli Peppers. Playing here is either the beginning or the end of the road for The Riots.’
Summer was still staring at her lager.
‘Are you going to drink that or just look at it?’ smiled Charlie.
‘You’ll never believe this,’ she said, ‘but I’ve never had a pint before.’
‘Good God! Where’ve you’ve been living? Mars?’
Her cheeks flushed with awkwardness. ‘No, in my mother’s universe.’
Charlie nodded. ‘Ah yes, someone told me after the wedding shoot that your mum was Molly Sinclair. So what was it? Champagne in your baby bottle?’
‘Something like that.’
He took a long slurp of beer that left a white frothy moustache on his lip. ‘Fuck. What must that be like, to have a supermodel as a mother? I bet your dad loved it,’ he winked.
‘Actually, I don’t really know my father.’
Charlie bowed his head in embarrassment. ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Summer, surprised at how easily she could talk to Charlie. ‘My mum lived in New York for a couple of years before I was born. She had an affair with this rich guy, Upper East side, rebel son from a good family, you know the sort. Anyway, she got pregnant and he dumped her. Seemslike it wasn’t in his family’s masterplan for him to settle down with some crazy model. My mum came back to London and never heard from him again.’
‘Don’t you ever want to find him?’
Summer shook her head defiantly. ‘After he abandoned us? No way. Anyway, I guess you don’t miss what you’ve never had.’
By the time Summer had finished the pint of lager, she felt light-headed and happy, and found herself growing more and more attracted to Charlie. It crossed her mind what Molly would think of him; when he had bought their drinks, she had seen him anxiously rattle around a few pound coins in the palm of his hand. She snorted. Molly would go spare .
But she wasn’t here looking for romance, she told herself. She was happy to be chatting to him, enjoying his company; most of all, she wanted Charlie McDonald to be her friend. It embarrassed her to think how few of them she had. She blamed it on her four-year hiatus in Japan, but the truth was that her nomadic youth had left her with few school friends and she rarely met anyone beyond her mother’s party circuit.
‘Can I buy you a drink?’
Summer looked up, expecting to see some spotty youth hitting on her, but it was a forty-something-year-old man in an expensive-looking jacket and jeans and the question was directed to Charlie.
‘Rob Harper,’ said the man, offering his hand. ‘I manage bands.’
‘Oh, wow, Rob Harper,’ said Charlie, ‘good to meet you, man. Yeah, I’ll have a
Similar Books
