No Half Measures - Sixth Movement - Chapter 38

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No Half Measures
Sixth Movement
Chapter 38
by Jenny Walker

 


 

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Editor's Note: Jenny Walker has graciously allowed me to represent her original story No Half Measures on BigCloset. Originally published on BigCloset Classic, this story segment was not migrated over to BigCloset TopShelf. This story segment first appeared on BigCloset Classic on Sunday, November 02, 2003 - 02:48 pm. Due to the original story presentation format being unsuitable and unwieldy for most portable devices (each part being over 1 meg in length), the story is now being broken up into single chapters for easier reading. The original Movements will be indicated on their respective chapters. The first chapter of each Movement will retain the original comments and read hits so as to preserve them for the author.

Sephrena Lynn Miller


 
 
Chapter 38
 
 
We began rehearsals for the tour a few days later. Instead of using the back room at Jools' place, we now had the exclusive use of a performance studio at Sony. It was more spacious and there was plenty of room to set up all the equipment we needed. The guys were as excited as I was, if not more so, at the thought of doing the live performances. We spent the latter part of that week simply getting ourselves familiar with all our songs again. The atmosphere was fairly relaxed as we were not under much pressure at that stage. We were able to enjoy a few days of informal playing to get the feel of the music again.

Following my heated conversation with Jools, I was looking into possible properties that I might consider buying. Although I regretted the way in which things had come to a head, in the cold light of day I knew that I couldn't live with her forever. I was going to have to get my own place at some stage, and this was probably an opportune time. I was saddened by the way it was happening and I reckoned that Jools felt the same way.

The next day, I had apologised for my outburst and she had apologised for making me feel uncomfortable. No more had been said about it, but I knew that underneath it all, we both had some reservations about the issue that had precipitated this confrontation. Jools, for her part, didn't mention anything further about what I chose to drink and I tried to be more discreet when I felt I wanted a drink. Looking back, I think that was a bad move.

I had made an appointment with an exclusive property estate agent and met him on Friday afternoon. Gareth, of course, was in tow. Estate agents get a bad press for being pushy, somewhat slimy and less than forthright on occasions. I'm sure this is an oversimplified generalisation, but sometimes generalisations are spot on. It certainly was this time.

"Ms. Malone, let me begin by saying how wonderful it is to make your acquaintance. I can assure that you that it is a pleasure to be able to help you in this and any other way that I can. My name is Joel Duncan."

I smiled, probably a little coolly. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Duncan."

"Oh please, call me Joel. May I call you Cara?"

I felt my smile begin to fade and I bristled. "Actually, perhaps it would be better if you called me Miss Malone."

His expression darkened for a moment, but then he regained his composure. "Absolutely, as you wish. I'm here to serve you and help you find the property that is perfect for you. Had you anything in mind particularly?"

"Not exactly, but I have an idea of the sort of thing that I am looking for. I want to be somewhere within the Greater London area, but not overly central. In the closer suburbs perhaps. It would be preferable if it was a detached property with a degree of privacy."

"Absolutely," he fawned, "I can see how that would be important. You want to be able to exclude unwanted guests."

I smiled and mentally added Joel Duncan to the list of unwanted guests, but simply said, "Yes, I'm glad you understand."

He hesitated. "I don't like to mention it, but do we need to consider what price range you are thinking of?"

I'm afraid I must have looked and sounded rather condescending as I replied, "I don't think that is a problem, do you?"

He seemed to grow a foot taller and a wide smile spread across his face. "I'm sure it's not. This will indeed widen the available options."

I thought that it was more the widening of his commission that was contributing to the improvement in his mood. He proceeded to show me photographs and details on several properties. He gushed about how wonderful they were and the majestic features of each. It was amusing to realise how often he used the word 'unique' when describing the various houses. I was surprised that there were so many 'unique' houses around, but I refrained from commenting on this.

I had worn a smart, but fashionable, black jacket and skirt ensemble. The skirt was short and as I sat there, I was aware that it was riding up to a degree. Joel also seemed to be rather aware of this as I noted where his gaze was directed on more than a few occasions. Having looked at details on around twenty houses, I narrowed it down to half a dozen that looked like they had potential. Joel was practically bowing and scraping at the end as he agreed to set up viewing appointments for the start of the following week.

Once outside, I turned to Gareth. "What did you make of him?"

He looked at me frankly. "Snivelling little toad."

I laughed and asked, "Is that your professional opinion?"

"Without a doubt. If I'd spotted him looking at your legs once more, I think I'd have been tempted to do something about it."

I looked at him with some surprise. "My, aren't we protective."

He shrugged and smiled. "That's my job, isn't it?"

I chuckled. "A bit father-like though, aren't you?"

He winked. "I'm old enough to be your father."

I rolled my eyes. "Just don't start telling me what I can and can't wear."

He grinned. "Have you ever heard me complain about what you wear?"
 

*          *          *

 
The following week, we began to practise in earnest for the upcoming performances. To help us get into the right mindset, I had got the guys to arrange the room more like a stage set up. It was a traditional layout: Kevin and drums at the back, Peter and keyboards stage right, slightly forwards from Kevin. Brian stood stage left, further forwards again, and then I placed myself at the front, centre stage, with Jon to my right. I let them do a bit of fiddling with sound settings until they were satisfied that we could all hear what we needed to hear.

One of the myths about live performances is that there is spontaneity in the running order of songs. The audience may romantically think that the band scribbles the order down on the back of a cigarette packet minutes before taking the stage. I doubted that was often the case. Sound engineers and lighting technicians preferred order and defined patterns. Most bands on tour will play the same set in exactly the same order for most of their performances. Yes, there can be occasional adjustments with a few different songs being employed depending on the setting where they are playing, but for the most part, it is set in stone. It was also better for the band as one would know exactly what was coming next. The challenge was to make this almost obsessive organisation appear spontaneous and vibrant whilst on stage.

We sat and had some discussion about the order in which we would play the songs. At least, with only one album released, there was little difficulty in choosing which songs we would play: we would play all of them. After talking it over, we decided on the following order:
 
 

No Half Measures
Living Life in Colour
You Make My Skin Crawl
Nine Years Old Again
I Just Wanna Be Me
I'm Not Gonna Sing Your Song
Simply Say
Dreaming Your Life
Waiting in Heaven
Forgotten How to Love
I'm Coming Home
Not Dancing, but Flying

 
 
The reasoning was that we should start with an up-tempo well-known song and follow that with another rocky song. Then we'd change pace a little and bring in some humour with 'You Make My Skin Crawl'. We'd pick the pace up again for a few numbers before slowing down again with 'Simply Say' and 'Dreaming Your Life'. I then planned to get more serious before singing 'Waiting in Heaven'. We'd bring things to a mellow end with the next two songs and then probably use 'Not Dancing, but Flying' for an encore, which again would be a well-known song. Having sorted that out, we had only to work out how we would play each song live. Easier said than done.

I wasn't someone who thought that every song we played live had to be different from the studio album version, but there were certain factors that had to be taken into consideration. For example, if we had used overdubbing while recording to get two lead guitar parts, we couldn't exactly split Jon in two to perform each part. Also, Steve and Tom may have used certain effects when mastering the songs to achieve a certain sound — this might be irreproducible for a live performance. Plus, I doubted that the London Philharmonic would agree to accompany us around the country just to play our final song. One thing I was insisting on though was a brass trio. 'I Just Wanna Be Me' absolutely required it and it would add a punch to some other songs. Simon had promised to get a trio to join in the final week of practising.

We began to work our way through the songs in order. We played around with the solos in 'No Half Measures' and extended them. Jon taught me a new riff to use while playing rhythm guitar. This was the challenge of performing live: trying to play your instrument well without compromising the vocal. In a sense it was easy in the studio as one could give full concentration to delivering a perfect vocal. Of course, in the heat of a live performance, absolute perfection was not required. I was quite fanatical however, that we had to get things right now. If we knew the songs inside out in practice, there was less room for error once on stage.

It was a hard grind each day and by the middle of that week, the pressure was beginning to build. I was not feeling at my best. I had a fuzzy head and had skipped breakfast. Perhaps my tolerance was weakened.

"Oh for God's sake, Peter, that's about the fifth time in a row you've missed that chord change," I spat with frustration.

He looked shocked and his eyes widened. "Err… sorry Cara. I'm not doing it on purpose, you know." He smiled, probably trying to lighten the moment.

"I don't care if it's deliberate or just incompetence, sort it out one way or the other," I said rather harshly.

I noticed that the others were all looking at me as if I had two heads. "What is it? Have you bozos forgotten that we're going on stage in about three weeks? This isn't the same as playing a smoky little club like we did months ago. This is the real thing and I'm tired of the amateurish effort that is being put in around here."

"Cara," Jon said gently, "I think you're being a little unfair…"

"Unfair?" I said whirling on him, "Come on, Jon, let's cut the crap. We've a job to do and so far you guys aren't up to scratch."

I could see that he was riled. "Us guys? It's not just us, we're a band altogether. That includes you."

I raised an eyebrow and put a hand on one hip. "Really? All in it together? How cosy. Well if I'm not mistaken the tickets that the poor unsuspecting public buy will say 'Cara Malone' on them. However, if I've got that wrong and somehow not realised that you guys are the stars, then please do correct me."

He shook his head and his brow furrowed. "Would you listen to yourself? Drop the prima donna act and get real. If you're so uptight about this, then maybe you should have thought about it before agreeing to do these gigs. We don't have enough time to prepare. Perhaps you should think about the consequences of what you do before you leap in."

I felt my blood begin to boil. "Oh that's rich. You would know all about thinking through your actions before you start something."

From the look on his face, I could see that he knew exactly what I was referring to. He looked hurt, but strangely I was unmoved.

"Anyway, I'm out of here," I said haughtily. "I've got some houses to view this afternoon." In a sarcastic tone I added, "Perhaps you boys wouldn't mind putting in a bit more effort this afternoon and make sure you know our songs. I'll be back tomorrow morning to see how you've got on."
 

*          *          *

 
In the elevator, I was aware of Gareth's eyes on me.

I frowned at him. "If you've got something to say, then say it."

He shrugged and murmured. "None of my business, Miss Malone."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh come on. I didn't figure you for a spineless yes-man. If you're thinking something, then say it."

He was silent for a moment and then quietly spoke, "I'm not sure what the history is between you and Jon, but I know that what you said hurt him bad for some reason. If that's what you wanted to do, that's fine. The rest of the guys are trying their best and working hard. If you want to be the uppity ice queen, that is entirely up to you. However, if you are feeling less than one hundred percent for some other reason and are just taking it out on them, well that's another matter. Just my opinion. You asked for it and I'm not prepared to let you tear my head off too for giving you what you asked for."

I stared at him intensely for a moment and then sighed. I rubbed my eyes and nodded. In a small voice I said, "You're right. You're completely right. I don't know what got into me. I'm worried that I'm turning into a real bitch."

I felt his hand settle on my shoulder for a fleeting moment. "That's not the real you. I've spent a lot of time with you even though I've only been working for you a short while. I'd like to think I know what you're really like and upstairs there now? That wasn't the real you. You're special, there's something different about you. Don't lose that."

I looked up at him and gave a wan smile. "Do you give this pep talk to all the stars you've looked after?"

He laughed. "Hell, no. Most of them were real bitches and I couldn't care less about how they felt. As I said, you're different."

"Thanks," I murmured.
 

*          *          *

 
"This is the one," I said quietly.

"I beg your pardon," Joel said obsequiously.

We had looked at four houses already and none of them had been suitable or what I was looking for. The house we were viewing at that moment was a three-storey, redbrick, Edwardian detached house in St. John's Wood.

It wasn't much on the outside. It had a moderate-sized garden, large double garage and a fairly large wall most of the way around the property's perimeter. However, inside it was just fantastic. I was initially concerned that it appeared a little old and I worried that it might be somewhat rundown. I worried for nothing.

Inside, the house was the last word in modern design. Joel had been incessantly ranting about how wonderful everything was, but he was actually correct. Polished beech floors underfoot, concealed lighting, tastefully decorated and modern furnishings all combined to increase my liking for the house. The previous owners, apparently, had been a wealthy couple that had bought the house, decorated it, moved in and then promptly divorced. Neither wanted the house and they were offering to sell the furnishings also.

The accommodation was spacious with a large drawing room and dining room. Room? It was more of a small hall. The kitchen was beautiful, not that I am a big fan of kitchens. There was a cosy den that just seemed so homely. It opened through double glass doors into a spacious conservatory. Upstairs there were four bedrooms with a fifth bedroom, study and playroom all on the top floor. The playroom would make a perfect music room, I thought. Over the rooftops, I could just see into the western reaches of Regent's Park.

"What do you think?" I asked Gareth.

"Not bad. The wall outside needs to be built up in a few places, alarm system's pretty good, add a few external lights, CCTV and electric gates and it would be grand."

I rolled my eyes and smiled. "I meant: do you like the house?"

He chuckled. "Sorry, thought you were asking for my professional assessment. Yes, I do like it."

I turned back to Joel who was almost wringing his hands as he cowered in the background. "How much did you say they wanted for it?"

"Oh, let me just check again… the asking price is one point one five million and if you want all the furnishings, fittings and appliances, they are another fifty thousand."

I sighed and my shoulders fell. "Pity," I murmured.

Joel looked crestfallen. "Erm, do you think that is a problem?"

I smiled ruefully. "Joel, I love this house. It's perfect, but that much money is too steep for me at the moment."

He hesitated for a moment and then gave a slimy smile. "Well… I shouldn't tell you this, but I know that the previous owners would like a quick sale. They want to release the capital tied up in this house. There haven't been that many interested viewers…"

I looked back at Joel with interest. "What are you trying to say?"

He shrugged diffidently. "I'm just thinking that they may be receptive to a lower offer."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Alright, tell them I'm prepared to offer one million, but I'd want the furnishings included."

He paled a little. "Well, now when I said they might be prepared to accept a lower…"

I interrupted gently and put a hand on his arm. "Oh come, Joel. I'm sure you can be very persuasive. Why don't you see what you can do for me?"

He flushed and beamed with self-importance. His chest swelled and he nodded. "I'll do what I can."

As we left and got into my car, Gareth was chuckling.

"What's got you so amused?"

He grinned. "I'm just amazed at how some men fall for a pretty woman. I mean, he was almost putty in your hands. How long does it take you to learn how to manipulate men like that? I mean, do you start learning it from childhood? Do mothers take their daughters aside and start teaching it when you are just out of nappies?"

I laughed and shrugged. "Gareth, you'd be surprised how quickly we can learn what we need to do to get what we want."
 

*          *          *

 
The next morning, I felt very sheepish when I arrived at Sony and had to face the guys. They greeted me warily as if waiting to see if I were in the same mood as the previous day.

I smiled apologetically. "Guys, I'm sorry for the way I acted yesterday. I was wrong to take my frustration out on all of you. I guess I'm a bit uptight at the moment, but I know that doesn't excuse my behaviour… so anyway, I'm sorry."

Kevin bounced on his stool. "No problem, Cara, that's fine."

Peter grinned at me. "Forget it; we're all a bit pumped."

Brian winked at me. "Give us a warning next time, will you?"

I turned to Jon. He seemed more reserved than the others. He shrugged. "We all get worked up at times." That was all he said.

We got back into the practising and things went better. We were getting on top of the songs and really starting to deliver a good sound. The energy and enthusiasm were there. I soon forgot about the previous day's debacle and began to enjoy myself.

We tweaked most songs to some degree or other. In most, we lengthened any solos as it gave us more scope for improvisation in the live setting, and, in others, we changed the endings. Of course, whilst one can do a 'repeat chorus to fade' ending in the studio, it doesn't come across so well on stage. The ending of a live song is possibly one of the most crucial parts; it has to be tight and punchy. Correspondingly, we spent an age making sure the ending of each song was permanently ingrained into our consciousness.

Over lunch, I sensed that the others were still somewhat cautious around me. I tried to chat freely and show them that I really was not an ogre.

"I saw a house yesterday that I really want to buy…"

"Really?" "Do tell." There was general interest.

I told them all about it in far greater detail than they would have requested given the choice. It was probably quite obvious to them that I was very taken with the place.

The others were talking amongst themselves and Jon piped up from beside me, "So, you're moving out from Jools' place?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it's a hard decision, but I've always known that I'd have to find my own place at some stage."

"Are you sure this is the right time?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. When is the right time?"

"I dunno," he replied, "I was just thinking that there's a lot going on in your life right now and the stability might help you."

I shot him a glance with a wry grin. "When has my life recently not had a lot going on in it?"

He laughed. "Fair point." He paused before continuing, "I just worry about you. Being in a house by yourself, what with all that has come to light recently."

I grinned. "Hey, don't worry. I've got Gareth to look after me now and if I do buy this house, it will be like Fort Knox by the time he finishes with it."

He nodded. "I'm glad you've got Gareth watching over you." His brow furrowed, "I know he'll make sure that nothing dramatic happens to you… but like for him it's just a job…" He shrugged his shoulders. "It's not like… he really cares about you though."

I turned to look at him closely. I grinned and murmured, "Jon, I never knew you cared."

He laughed self-consciously. "Don't talk crap. You know I care. That won't change… despite what all may have happened."

I smiled and then chewed my lip. "I'm sorry about what I said yesterday."

He knew what I was talking about. "Don't worry about it. I probably deserved it."

I patted his arm. "I don't know about that. It was wrong of me to say it no matter what."
 

*          *          *

 
"One point zero five million pounds?" Jools exclaimed.

Joel had taken two days to get back to me. He had informed me that his clients would accept no less than the above amount for the house plus furnishings. I was quite pleased. I hadn't expected them to accept my initial offer. I had told Joel I would give them what they had asked for. I had just told Jools the good news.

"Are you sure you can afford that?" she asked.

I grinned. "Hey, you know the state of my finances more than anyone."

She raised an eyebrow. "True, but we'll have to sit down and work out what's the best way to do this. How much of your capital to use as deposit and what size of mortgage to take out."

I grinned triumphantly. "No need, I've sorted it all out. I met with my bank manager and we've worked through all the figures. I got a pretty good deal on the mortgage too."

She looked surprised and perhaps even a little hurt. I think I understood: up until now I had relied heavily on Jools for everything. I felt that I needed to be more independent and I think she was finding it difficult to adjust to this concept.

"You had no problem getting the mortgage?"

I chuckled. "Not once he worked out why I looked familiar and admitted that his two teenaged daughters were big fans." I paused and with a straight face continued, "I suppose the autographed photos and promise of two complimentary Wembley Arena tickets had little to do with it."

She shook her head slowly and then laughed. "I've created a monster."

I buffed my nails. "I've been taught by the best."

After a moment's silence she asked, "So when… do you think you will be ready to move?"

I shrugged. "I've got my solicitor instructed to push the contracts through as soon as possible. I think it could be about three weeks or so."

"So soon?" she mused.
 

*          *          *

 
At times, I felt like a flagging mountaineer. Just when I thought the summit was in sight, I would see another peak rising in the distance. It was as if I was always pushing to reach the next goal, the next target. When each successive achievement didn't quite bring me the fulfilment that I sought, I set my eyes on the next one and hoped that it would be the one to satisfy me.

I had thought that the album release or the Number One single would be the pinnacle of achievement that I had been seeking, but I was wrong. Now I was hoping that it was the opportunity to sing and play my songs live before a hopefully appreciative audience. Whilst I was holding onto this hope, there was a small voice inside me telling me that this probably would not be the case. Small voices could be drowned out by keeping yourself busy, and in other ways too.

The next two weeks were mostly made up of hard work in the studio as we practised diligently. We were getting to the stage where we could play the songs in our sleep and were almost getting bored with them. Each time that I sensed we were becoming over familiar with one particular song, I quickly moved us all on to another. There was a fine line between well practised and over practised. The last thing we wanted was for us to be so comfortable with the material that the performance would be stale. However, I figured that the addition of a proper stage, lots of lights and a few thousand people would help prevent that eventuality.

My mood was rather up and down during this period. I had days when I knew my temper was short and I had to fight hard to keep my irritation from showing too much. The guys were pretty good at reading me though. When they sensed that I was in bad form, they didn't push me on anything and would give me a lot of space. I had enough insight to realise all this, but it was hard to actually do anything about it. I wasn't sure why I was feeling like this. Perhaps it was the hormones. Perhaps I was more unsettled about my forthcoming house move than I liked to admit.

Simon kept flitting in and out to check how things were going. He was like a nervous expectant father wondering how the delivery of his first child was progressing. I understood that he had a lot riding on this mini-tour, as he had been the one to push for it. At first, his little visits were almost cute, but lately I had begun to find them tiresome. Unfortunately his timing was poor on a few occasions and he had managed to find me at less than my best. I was rather brusque and not too kind to him at these times.
 
 
Towards the end of the time that we had allotted for tour preparation, Jon had been acting funny. Whilst there had been a certain amount of awkwardness between us for some time, it had increased recently. I had asked Brian about it and he'd evaded the question, saying that I should ask Jon about it if I thought there was a problem. I knew there was something that he was not telling me, but I couldn't bring myself to ask Jon about it up front. I assume that Brian probably mentioned our little conversation to Jon, because the next day he took me aside during one of our breaks.

"Fancy getting a breath of fresh air?" he asked, trying to sound casual but looking extremely uncomfortable.

"Sure," I said with a shrug.

We headed up onto the roof. It was a grey late November day, but thankfully it was not raining. I looked down at the busy streets below as the cars crawled along, being outpaced by most of the adjacent pedestrians.

"What's on your mind, Jon?"

"Huh?"

I smiled. "I sense there is something that you want to tell me. You've been pussyfooting around me for the last two weeks."

"Yeah…" he said noncommittally. "I guess I have." He looked out over the rooftops and was silent. I wondered if he was actually going to say anything further.

He turned back to me and sighed. "Look, I don't know if I should feel uncomfortable about this or not, but I do. I don't know if it is a big deal or anything…"

I tapped my foot impatiently. "Jon, whatever it is, just say it, would you?"

He grinned nervously. "OK, I'm seeing someone new."

I looked at him and then began to smile. "That's it? That's what you've been trying to tell me all this time? Why didn't you just come out and tell me before now?"

My words sounded brave, but inside I felt the pain as his words hit home. Of course, it was nothing less than what I had expected. Did I think he would be a monastic bachelor until his dying day? Since there was no chance of anything happening between the two of us, I had known it would only be a matter of time before this transpired.

He shrugged diffidently. "I don't know… I just thought it might be a bit awkward… just with things that have happened before." He paused, "I was worried in case you would have a difficulty with it…"

I laughed. "Oh, Jon, come on. Don't flatter yourself, hon. I mean, yes we shared a moment, but that's all it was."

He nodded. "OK… well that's fine."

I looked up at him and softly said, "Surely you should be happy that there's no problem. You look as if someone died."

He forced a smile and stood up straighter. "I am happy. No, it's good. I just wanted to make sure."

I chuckled. "Come on, silly old you. Let's go back down and get back to work."

As we descended the stairs, I casually said, "Actually, I was thinking that perhaps I should start seeing someone too. All work and no play, you know…"
 

*          *          *

 
The first week of December was a busy one. Although we had finished all our practices and would not be playing our songs again until we went on stage in Edinburgh that Friday night, I had plenty to think about. I needed to work out what I was going to say on stage and, perhaps even more importantly, what I was going to wear.

All this was compounded by the fact that my solicitor had managed to complete the purchase of my new house. Having signed the contract and now being the official owner, I was keen to move in as soon as possible. Gareth had various teams of men swarming over the place making the adjustments that he had recommended. He had asked how much I wanted to know about what he was getting done and I had assured him that he could tell me all about it when it was finished. I trusted him to sort it out.

With the house being already fully furnished and with me owning very little in the way of substantial possessions, moving was not going to be an onerous task. At least, not physically. As I packed my clothes — not an inconsequential job given the large wardrobe I had built up — I felt very strange inside. It felt like I was leaving home. I sat on my bed staring into space for some time. My bed? My room? When I thought about it, I realised that Jools' house was the only place that I as a female had known as home. I had had few qualms about leaving the grotty Greenwich flat that Nick had inhabited, but this was different. This place was filled with many intense memories for me.

"Taking a break?" a quiet voice said from the doorway.

I looked up and grinned at Jools. "Heya, yes, just thinking."

She sat down beside me and gave me a wan smile. "Are you feeling as rotten as I am?"

I managed an equally washed-out smile. "Pretty much, I reckon."

Jools put her arm around my shoulders. "I know you have to move on and get your own place. It makes sense, but… hell I'm going to miss you so much."

I swallowed hard. "Jools, I know. I'm going to miss you too, but if we talk about this more, I know that I'm going to end up crying."

Jools shrugged. "Why don't we cry about it here and now together… rather than later tonight when we're each alone in our own houses?"

That did the trick and the floodgates opened. We both sat and sobbed as we hugged each other. I know it might sound pathetic, but perhaps even I had underestimated the bond that I had built up with this incredible woman.

I wiped my eyes and managed to achieve some semblance of control. In a shaky voice I said, "Jools, you're the best, you really are. I couldn't ask for a better friend. I know I've been difficult to live with recently and I know that this whole move could have taken place in better circumstances, but I want you to know that I love you so much and… if it weren't for you, I don't know where I'd be today." I paused. "Actually I do. I'd probably be still asleep in that hellhole of a flat that used to be mine. I'd be a skinny, unattractive, and probably still unsuccessful, man."

Jools laughed through her tears. "You do realise that you've been a woman for over a year now. Just about a week ago you passed that milestone."

I nodded and smiled. I had noted it myself as the date had passed. "I know, it's hard to believe."

"Any regrets?"

I shrugged. "We all have regrets even when we make the right choices. Would I do things differently?" I thought for a moment before continuing in a determined voice, "Knowing what I do now, I'd definitely do it all again. Despite the troubles and difficulties there have been."

She grinned and squeezed my arm. "So you don't blame me for totally changing your life?"

I chuckled. "I just blame you for not doing it sooner."

We laughed and recalled the many happy times that we had spent together in her house over the past year. We did more crying too before we were done.
 

*          *          *

 
I stood on the front steps having packed everything into my car and Gareth's. Truth be told, most of it was in Gareth's. After all, my car was more about aesthetics than functional luggage space.

"Thanks so much, Jools. This place has been a real home for me. I'm going to miss it."

We both misted over again as she hugged me fiercely. "Damn it," she said through her tears, "I'm going to miss you."

I tried to force a laugh. "You're not going to get rid of me that easily. You'll see plenty of me, and remember I'm only going to be living about fifteen minutes from here."

As we broke the embrace, she said, "You will think about what I suggested, won't you?"

I nodded, "I promise."
 

*          *          *

 
"Are you listening, Miss Malone?"

"Mmm? What was that?"

Gareth sighed. "I'm trying to show you how this security system works. You were miles away."

I smiled apologetically. "Sorry. Listen, would you do me a really big favour?"

He shrugged, seemingly caught off balance. "Sure, what do you want?"

"Would you please call me Cara? I feel silly having you call me Miss Malone. It was fine at first when we didn't really know each other, but it sounds ridiculous now."

He screwed up his face. "I don't know, I mean I sort of always like to stick to the rules…"

I chuckled and with a flash of insight said, "Gareth, I know what you mean about the rules, but trust me — calling me Cara won't lead to you and me doing the dirty before we both know it. I mean, I like you, but not like that."

He looked both shocked and amused at the same time. He laughed and didn't say anything as he nodded slowly. "Alright, Cara, you win." He winked. "Although I'm gutted the way you've just dashed all my hopes and dreams."

I laughed and said, "OK, you were telling me about some alarm thingy?"

He rolled his eyes and patiently repeated his demonstration and instructions. He had been busy - or rather those he had employed on my behalf had been. There was a complete eight-foot high red brick wall surrounding the property and the front entrance had electronically controlled gates with an intercom system. There were sensor-controlled security lights all around the house and I was assured that the intruder alarm was state of the art. Apparently it was wired into the local police station and the security company's central control room. There were closed circuit TV cameras that covered the front gates and the front and rear entrances. I was impressed by the work that had been put in. Strangely though, instead of feeling more secure, I felt more vulnerable.

Gareth was about to leave for the night, when I stopped him. "Gareth?"

"Yes?"

I hesitated. I looked up at him and opened my mouth to speak, but then felt foolish.

"What is it?" he prompted gently.

I shook my head. "Nothing, I'm just being silly."

He really was quite astute. "You feel funny being left here alone, is that it?"

I smiled bashfully and nodded. "Ridiculous, isn't it?"

He shrugged. "Not really. It is your house, but it's not your home yet. The place is still unfamiliar, but you'll get used to it." He paused and looked at me as I stood there feeling a little lost. Then he sighed and smiled. "Do you want me to stay here tonight?"

I felt like a little girl as I asked, "Would you?"

He nodded and smiled kindly. "Sure I will, but I'm warning you, no funny business from you. I'm on duty." He winked.

I laughed and immediately felt better. "Fancy a quick nightcap then?"

He shook his head. "Remember — on duty."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh come on. One drink before bed will hardly hurt."

His eyes looked away for a moment before returning to me. "I don't drink… anymore," he said quietly.

He communicated so much more by what he didn't say. Although I had gotten to know him fairly well over the previous weeks, I realised that there was so much about him that I did not know. The sort of man that he was, I reckoned that I would never know the half of it.

"OK," I said brightly. "Well, you can have your pick of the bedrooms. Of course, I've already reserved the master bedroom, but the rest are available."

"Goodnight, Miss… goodnight, Cara," he said with a smile.

"Night, Gareth... and thanks."

I went into my spacious kitchen and opened the fridge. It was nearly empty save for a few bottles of wine that I had brought from Jools' place. I remembered that I had no food either. I frowned as I realised that I had never been very good at the living on my own thing. As I savoured a glass or two of wine, I mulled over Jools' earlier suggestion and concluded that it made good sense.
 

*          *          *

 
After having persuaded Gareth to stay the next night also, he gently suggested the following morning that perhaps I should think about employing the equivalent of a night watchman. He said that various security companies provided the services of someone to watch private properties at night. It was not that they were trained killers to ward off any evil that may come around, but more like a reassurance to the owner and deterrent to any intruders.

"Can't you just stay with me?" I said grinning foolishly and batting my eyelashes furiously.

He chuckled. "I've got a social life to think of too."

We both laughed. In the short time in which I had known him, it had become fairly clear that he didn't get out much. I supposed that it was difficult given the unpredictable hours involved in his line of work. Nonetheless I knew that he couldn't keep staying over. So I agreed that he should pursue his suggestion. It did make sense: not only would it put my mind at rest when I was there, but given that I could be away from the house for prolonged periods of time, it was wise to have someone watching the house at night.

I had followed up on Jools' suggestion too. She had thought that I should get myself a housekeeper. Initially I had pooh-poohed the idea as I said that with only one person living in the house, it was hardly necessary. Jools had pointed out that the one person living in the house was unlikely to clean the house or do much in the line of cooking. She was right. Domestic chores had never been my strong point.

While staying with Jools, I had made more of an effort, as it was only fair given that she was letting me live with her for free. However, left to my own devices, we both had a fair idea of what would happen. It just so happened that Jools had done some groundwork of her own before mentioning this to me. She had talked to the person who knew most about housekeeping: Mabel at Silsbury Manor. Mabel had given Jools the phone number of a distant cousin of hers who used to keep house for an elderly gentleman who had recently passed away.

I phoned the number. "Hello, can I speak to Mrs. Dorothy Pantridge please?"

"Speaking. Who's calling, please?"

"Mrs. Pantridge, my name's Cara Malone, you don't know me but…"

"Oh yes, I recognise the name."

I was surprised, as I doubted that a sixty-year-old distant cousin of Mabel's would be up to date with current rock/pop music. My surprise was dispelled and explained as she continued.

"Mabel rang me and said that you might be telephoning. She said that you are a lovely young woman, but that you needed some looking after."

I laughed. "Yes, that sounds about right. It seems you are well informed. Would there be any possibility that you would be interested in helping me?"

It seemed that there was. She arranged to meet me at my house the next morning.
 

*          *          *

 
"This is a lovely house, my dear."

I smiled. "Thank you. I've only moved in and can take no credit for the décor or furnishings though."

Dorothy Pantridge was a thin but sprightly, well-groomed and conservatively attired woman. She had a warm smile, but a penetrating gaze. She was forthright and looked like a woman who had no trouble speaking her mind.

"So, tell me what you need, my dear."

I shrugged. "I guess the usual things: cleaning, laundry and ironing. You don't happen to cook too, do you?"

She laughed. "Of course I do. How do you think I survived to my age without being able to cook?"

The implication was evident. Doesn't every woman know how to cook? I didn't enlighten her as to my deficiencies in this area. My mind idly wondered if she would buy the excuse that I used to be a man until just over a year ago.

"That would be wonderful. I'd be delighted if you were willing to take up this job. If you're recommended by Mabel, that's all the references I'd need."

She chuckled. "And vice versa, my dear. Mabel said you were a lovely young woman and it seems that she hasn't lost her critical faculties yet. Yes, I'd be happy to take up the position."

We sorted out the practicalities such as her hours, holidays and pay. I was happy to agree to whatever she suggested in each regard. I already began to feel happier in the house knowing that there was going to be a friendly face there most days.

"Oh, I'll be away this weekend until Sunday," I informed her, "I'm going to Edinburgh and then Manchester."

"That's nice, dear. Going to see some friends?"

I smiled and shook my head. "No, I've got some concerts."

"Really? Who are you going to hear? I always liked some Mozart myself."

I grinned. "No, I mean I'm singing at the concerts."

"That's nice, dear."

I chuckled to myself as she bustled off to tackle another task. She was down to earth and I figured that was what I needed. I liked her.


 

To Be Continued...
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Checking in

Time for another comment. I am enjoying No Half Measures immensely. It's a classy story. Sure, I've driven the highway between LA and Fresno more times than I wanted to, and could pick a few nits, but I won't. What I will do is rave about how this story keeps unfolding. With thirteen more chapters to go, we know Cara's not going to hit the wall, at least not just yet, but I love how the tension's building. And, having written a full length novel myself in longish installments (Balthasar's Elixir), I'm having a wonderful time imagining Jenny's creative process. Hugs, Daphne

Daphne

Mmm Just thinking; Wonder

Mmm Just thinking; Wonder when Jon's latest flame
starts sputtering and if Cara and him are finally going
to ignite?

alissa