Indigo- The Complete Series, page 27
part #1 of Indigo Series
The rest of his bandmates filed out of the recording booth, and John stood. “Come with us. Let’s get pissed and sing old songs,” he urged.
“Thanks, but I’m not in the mood. I’m going home to try and get some rest.”
“You’ve rarely come out with us since we’ve been here,” John said, holding his arms out wide. “You’re in the studio all day, and then you return to your flat at night. Alone.”
“Come on,” the others moaned. “It won’t be the same without you,” Colin said.
“What’s this?” Graham asked, leaving the recording booth. “Justin Hamilton is refusing a pint with his mates?”
Justin shook his head. “Okay, I give up. I know how relentless you guys can be.” He slipped off the stool and placed his guitar on the stand, trailing his friends out the door.
***
Later, Justin’s bandmates were happily fed and drunk, playing a competitive game of darts at the Village Idiot. There was no live music, but the owner kept a pristine vintage jukebox against one wall. While they drank beer and played darts, his bandmates kept the jukebox busy with their selections.
“Thank Christ there’s no pop or electronic garbage on here,” Liam growled, sliding a few coins into the slot and punching the buttons. “Now this is a great song!”
The opening guitar riff for the AC/DC song “You Shook Me All Night Long” blared through the pub’s speakers.
“Malcom Young!” Liam shouted with his glass raised. “Rest in peace, man.”
Raising his beer in salute, Justin leaned back in his chair and chuckled while watching his bandmates sing along. Noticing their enthusiasm, the barkeep turned up the volume. Grabbing a pool stick, Liam played a wicked air guitar. These guys were not only his bandmates but his best friends. They bonded early during their struggles to make Indigo the success it was today.
When the song ended, the guys slapped each other on the back and resumed their darts game.
Justin turned when Max sat down next to him. “Lucy’s all right, you know. You don't have to worry about her.”
Justin glanced up. “And you know this how?"
“Ah.” Max chuckled, waving his phone in front of Justin. “I thought you'd never ask.”
“What are you talking about?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Colleen and I have been in contact with each other.”
“What?” Justin sat up straight. “For how long?"
“Since we left LA.” Max shrugged, taking a sip of beer.
“Dammit, Max!” Justin hissed. “If you have anything to tell me, tell me now. I'm not playing Twenty Questions with you.”
“There’s not much to tell.” Max put his glass down and leaned forward on the table as he considered Justin. “She's staying with her parents, works long hours at the museum, and she has a security detail to drive her to and from work.”
“She isn't going out?” Justin asked. He felt so much remorse that the scandal with Rachel caused Lucy to feel like she had to hide.
“Just once.”
“Tell me the rest.”
Max eyed Justin with caution. “Lucy joined Colleen and her boyfriend, Brian. They met for dinner at a private club.”
“Yeah, I've met Brian.”
“After dinner, they ran into to some guy named Matt, and he stayed to join them for dancing.”
“Matt. Why is that name familiar?” Justin asked.
“Colleen said he was at the Indigo concert in LA.”
Justin thought back to that night and recalled the tall guy sitting at Lucy’s table. He had a sudden urge to get on the first plane back to LA. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this story?”
“Colleen told me it was pure chance that Matt was at the same restaurant. But she also made it clear he has an interest in Lucy.”
Justin held his pint glass so tight, he thought he might shatter it. “Why are you telling me this?”
Max punched a few buttons on his phone, and held it out to Justin. “Sooner or later you'll see this, and I thought I should be the one who showed it to you.”
Justin took Max's phone and was surprised to see a photo of Lucy dancing with Matt. She looked beautiful. His arms were wrapped around her waist, and her smile made it clear she was enjoying herself.
“Lucy's single. She's free to date anyone she chooses,” Max said. “This is good.”
Justin handed the phone back. “What’s good about it?” he asked with a scowl.
Max laughed. “It's just a photo. It's out there, and you can't do anything about it.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Don’t you get it?”
Justin glared at Max, waiting for him to explain.
Max shook his head. “The paps will stop their feeding frenzy, because they think she’s moved on.” He leaned in closer to Justin, whispering, “She’ll be left alone. She’s safe now.”
Justin blinked a couple of times, considering what Max said. Yes, the press may stop hounding her, but he still didn’t like the fact that Matt was with her.
“I've seen you two together.” Max said, draining his glass. “Isn't it time to stake your claim?”
Justin nodded as he observed a few women walk into the pub and order drinks. One had long, dark, wavy hair and reminded him of Lucy. But he could tell from her profile that she paled in comparison to the beauty that Lucy possessed. He missed her so damn much. And Max's words stirred something deep within him. Should he reach out to her?
“Earth to Justin.” Max laughed. “My God, I think you’re completely smitten.”
Justin turned to his friend with a grin. “I am.”
“I knew it!” Max shouted, pounding the table. “John,” he yelled, pointing across the bar. “You owe me, mate. Now pay up.”
Justin joined Max in laughter. It felt good to admit he was in love with Lucy. Just as Max was about to walk away, Justin grabbed his sleeve. “I can't go to her now. I'm not free until the gigs are over.”
Max winked. “You’ll have to win her back.”
“But how? What should I say to make her talk to me?” Justin was confounded, because he was afraid if he pushed too hard, Lucy might very well push back, and then he would risk losing her forever.
“You're asking me?” Max barked out an enormous laugh. “You're the bloody songwriter. Words are how you make your living. I'm sure you'll think of something.” Max slapped Justin on the back before typing something on his phone. He walked away to join the others.
Justin sat still amidst the noise around him. Max was right. He would have to think of a way to reach out to Lucy and convince her to be with him. Justin’s phone pinged with a text from Max. He had forwarded Lucy’s new contact information.
CHAPTER 4
Justin
Justin paid the tab, and with a nod to his friends, left the pub. He was about to hail a cab but decided against it when there were no paparazzi lurking around. The air was fresh but cold, so he zipped up his jacket, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked home.
Even though it was a weeknight, London pulsated with activity. Car horns honked in busy traffic, and people bumped into him as they hurried on their way. Despite all the commotion, Justin focused on how best to approach contacting Lucy. As he walked, he whistled an old song and concentrated on the sound of his footsteps against the pavement.
After he had passed through Notting Hill Gate, he was about to make a left turn onto his street when something caught his eye. A dark blue light was flashing down the road. All the surrounding shops were closed, and he walked past his street on Ladbroke Square to take a closer look, his pace increasing with every step.
When he arrived at the shop, he placed his hands on his hips and let out a harsh breath at the word ‘Psychic’ written in blue fluorescent tubing in one window. The other window contained three words in blue fluorescent lights: past, present, future. He would have never considered consulting a psychic for anything, but that was before all these strange dreams about Lucy.
He was startled by a creaking door. “May I help you?” asked a tall, older woman with shoulder-length blonde hair pulled back over her ears. Despite her age, she had almost wrinkle-free skin and emerald green eyes.
“I don’t know,” Justin replied. “I’m not sure why I’m here.”
She inclined her head, holding the door open. “Why don’t you come in?” she asked in a Scottish accent.
“It’s late. You’re probably ready to close.” Justin glanced over his shoulder. He should never have walked down here.
“Nonsense,” she replied matter-of-factly. “My name is Sylvia Hunter,” she said, gesturing him to enter the shop.
“I’m Justin,” he said with a nod. He would have expected that a psychic would be dressed in a flowing caftan, but Sylvia was dressed in black slacks and a ivory, silk blouse.
“Come in, and I’ll make us both a cup of tea.” Sylvia’s soft Scottish brogue comforted him.
“You’re from Scotland?” he asked, entering the shop. He had anticipated an array of crystals, astrological charts on the wall, tarot cards, and a crystal ball. Instead, two large, chestnut-colored leather arm chairs flanked a small fireplace, fresh flowers were placed on a small table, and various landscape paintings and photographs were hung on the walls. The only sound came from a ticking clock sitting on the mantel above the fireplace. It was a quiet and serene room.
“Aye,” Sylvia replied as she walked into the adjoining kitchenette to prepare tea.
Justin was intrigued by one particular photograph, of a stone cottage sitting on the edge of a marsh with rolling hills and a mysterious cloud-covered mountain in the background.
“You’ve spotted my ancestral home,” she said, poking her head around the corner.
“Did you grow up there?” Justin moved in closer to examine the photograph.
“Och, no.” She set the tea service and cookies down on the table and poured steaming hot tea into two china cups. “It’s been in my family for many years. They’re from Northern Ireland, but they emigrated to Glasgow. My great-grandfather built the cottage as a vacation retreat in Glencoe. It’s in the Highlands.” Taking a sip, she said, “I loved going there as a child. I thought it was such a magical place; I still do.” She gave him a warm smile. “Come sit down. I want to know about you. Why are you here?”
Why was he here? He couldn’t possibly explain his dreams and feelings for Lucy to a stranger.
Sylvia said in a gentle tone, “Justin, you don’t have to be a psychic to recognize that you’re troubled by something. If you aren’t comfortable talking to me, we can just enjoy a cup of tea together and leave it at that.”
Justin nodded, wrapping his hands around the cup, enjoying the warmth. He paused a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts.
Sylvia took another sip of tea and then set her cup and saucer down. “You know my favorite place in the world. Why don’t you tell me about yours? Is there a special place that makes you feel at home? It doesn’t have to be where you live. It can be somewhere that makes you feel safe and connected.”
Justin glanced up at the photograph of Sylvia’s stone cottage and tried to recall if he had ever felt attached to a particular place. His parents had created a loving home, but he felt confined by their career expectations for him. They supported his interest in music as a hobby, but they discouraged him from pursuing it as a career. He wanted to leave his small town and travel the world playing music. But the truth was his life as a musician was just a series of hotel rooms. Even his own London flat didn’t make him feel the way Sylvia described. The only time Justin had ever felt at home was with Lucy in her beach cottage.
“I’m a musician,” he answered. “I can escape into the images and words of my songs. It takes me,” he said, pausing, “somewhere else.” He looked into her eyes. “So, I guess my ‘home,’ as you describe it, transcends where I physically am.” Did he really just say that? Why didn’t he just tell her the truth?
She held his gaze. “You have extraordinary eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with such deep blue eyes before. Give me your hands,” Sylvia said, reaching for them.
Justin put the cup down and swallowed before he held his hands out to her. Sylvia took them in her warm hands, holding them gently, and closed her eyes. After a few moments, she opened her eyes, scrutinizing him with intense focus. She ran her index finger across his palm, glancing up at him a few times, her eyes narrowing in concentration. It was as if she was trying to figure out the answer to some sort of puzzle. After another minute, Sylvia gave him a small smile and patted his hand, saying in a soft voice, “You’re a very old soul, Justin. You’ve lived many lifetimes.”
Justin shook his head and chuckled. “Isn’t everyone an old soul?”
“No, they’re not,” Sylvia replied, sitting back in her chair, her hands folded in her lap.
“Look—” Justin said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend you, but I’ve never consulted with a psychic before, and that assessment just sounds like a cliché to me.”
Sylvia remained quiet. She tilted her head slightly to the side, her eyebrows pulled down in concentration.
This visit had been a complete waste of time. He would go home to his empty flat and have another sleepless night without Lucy. Sylvia hadn’t told him anything useful at all. “Why don’t you tell me what I owe you, and I’ll be on my way.”
In a firm voice, Sylvia said, “Now is the time.”
“What are you talking about?” Justin asked with a scowl. He got to his feet, pulling a few pound notes out of his pocket and tossing them on a nearby table. He’d had enough of this psychic bullshit and couldn’t get out of here fast enough.
“Please sit down and let me explain,” Sylvia urged.
“Sorry. I think this was a mistake,” Justin said, pushing his way out the door.
CHAPTER 5
Lucy
“How does it feel to be back in your own place?” Colleen asked, picking up another slice of pepperoni pizza.
“It’s great.” Lucy took a sip of Chianti. “It’s weird, you know? I still feel him here with me sometimes. Does that make sense?”
Colleen shrugged. “It only needs to make sense to you.”
Lucy picked up a slice of pizza and then set it down again. The wine was a better idea, she decided, taking another sip. It had been twelve days since Justin left. No more paparazzi hounded her, she was driving her car again, and she was busy at the museum. But there was a huge hole in her life, and it had a name: Justin Hamilton.
“Have you heard from him?”
“You already know the answer to that question.”
Colleen chewed her pizza, asking around a mouthful, “How’s it going with Matt?”
Lucy shrugged. “We’ve only talked once on the phone. He’s a nice guy, but there’s no way I’m going to date him because I’m in love with Justin. But I don’t know how Justin feels now.” She didn’t share her worry that now that they were apart, Justin was dating other women.
“Hmmm.” Colleen wiped her mouth with a napkin, tossing it on the table. “Didn’t Justin say that he would wait for you to reach out to him?”
“He knows where to find me,” she said as she folded and refolded her napkin.
Colleen raised her eyebrows, challenging Lucy. “And how can he do that, when you’ve changed all your contact information?”
Lucy narrowed her eyes. “You know something, don’t you?”
“What if I do?” Colleen poured the last of the wine into her oversized wine glass and swirled it around.
“Out with it. Now,” Lucy growled.
“Okay. Here it is.” Colleen took a sip of wine. “After Justin left LA, Max emailed me.”
“Max emailed you?”
“Yeah. I forgot I had given Max my contact info the night he brought you to my condo.”
Lucy remembered that night. It was Max, Indigo’s manager, who helped get her to Colleen’s and stayed with them until he knew they were safe. He was a big man, with a gruff manner, but he had been kind to her.
“So now you two are pen pals?” Lucy’s question dripped with sarcasm, but she had butterflies in her belly because she wanted to learn something about Justin.
“Very funny.” Colleen put her glass down, pulled the hair tie out of her ponytail, and ran her hands through her hair. “Max has only emailed me a few times, and it was just to make sure you were all right.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him the truth,” she said with a shrug. “You had moved in with your parents. You were working hard, but rarely going out. All true, right?”
Lucy nodded, wrapping her arms around her waist, and waited for the rest of it.
Colleen scrunched up her face and said, “I also told him about Matt.”
“What?” Lucy shouted.
“Come on, Lucy,” she said with impatience. “It’s not as if that photo of you two dancing didn’t get around. I thought it would be for the best to explain to Max that you and Matt were not on a formal date. You know, in case Justin saw it.” Colleen paused, rolling her eyes. “I was trying to look out for you, dumbass.”
Lucy was about to say something in response but was speechless. Humbled by her friend’s concern, she said in a quiet voice, “Thanks, Colleen.”
Colleen considered her for a moment. “The press has backed off, and Rachel has left town. Why don’t you reach out to Justin? I know you want to,” she said, batting her eyelashes.
She pulled on her bottom lip with her teeth and shook her head. “I don’t know. He must be busy rehearsing for the concerts. Besides, now that he’s back in London, maybe he’s realized it would be impossible to maintain a long-distance relationship. He might be dating again and—"
“What?” Colleen threw her head back and slammed her hands on the table. “He’s nuts over you.”
Lucy stared into her wine glass as if she was looking for the answer. She couldn’t forget the longing in his eyes when he came to see her that last time. She knew there was a deep connection between them. The experience seeing the Varangian Cross at the museum proved that. Her nightmares had been sporadic, but intense since he left, but her dreams had also been sensually vivid recollections of her time with Justin. She couldn’t imagine finding anyone to replace what they shared.
