Free Black Girls and Bad Boys: Changing his Tune by Neneh J. Gordon Page B

was in a good mood and nobody forgot anything important. All in all, it
was enough to make Angelique extremely nervous. Nothing went this well for very
long. Not in her experience. Then Noah went all quiet and disappeared into his
bunk and she started to think she was right.
    Should she check on him? She hovered around in the middle of the
coach until John closed his newspaper, called her over to the table and made
her sit down. “What’s the matter?”
    She glanced over at the back of the bus. “It’s not like him to be so
withdrawn.”
    “He gets like that sometimes. His version of stage-fright. He’ll be
thinking about tonight. Getting it all straight in his head.”
    She looked over at his cubicle again. “How can he shut himself up in
there like that?”
    He shrugged. “Probably finds it comforting. Like being back in the
womb.”
    She couldn’t imagine how anybody would enjoy being in such an
enclosed space, but to each his own.
    “You haven’t seen him play before, have you?”
    “Not a gig, no.” She knew most of the new songs just from hearing
him play around the house, but his back catalogue was something she’d had no
exposure to.
    “Tonight will be a good introduction.”
    “Yeah, he was telling me about the secret gig.” None of the fans
even knew where it was yet. The location was going out to his fan club email
list about an hour before the set started. “He said it’s years since he’s
played anywhere this small. Sounds like he’s looking forward to it.”
    “I thought it was a good way to ease him back in – friendly crowd,
intimate venue.”
    As they carried on chatting, Angelique forgot to worry about Noah
and started to relax. This was the longest conversation she’d ever had with
John. He was a lot warmer than she’d given him credit for.
    As they drove on, glimpses of dirty blue sea appeared in the gaps
between buildings.
    “Will we have time to go to the beach?” She hadn’t been to the coast
for years. It would be sad to come this close and leave without having a
paddle.
    “The gig finishes at eight. As long as we’re ready to roll by nine
tomorrow, you can do whatever you like.” The coach slowed down and he craned to
see out of the front window. “Looks like we’re here.”
    “Thanks, John.”
    “What for?”
    “Taking my mind off things.”
    “Look.” He pointed behind her to the back of the bus.
    Noah was out of his den and stretching his lithe body until his
hands pressed against the ceiling. His black t-shirt rode up and she glimpsed
the dark line of hair that ran from the top of his jeans up over his taut
stomach. She looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed where her gaze had fallen.
    He was her friend – her charge. She didn’t have those sorts of
feelings for him. It must have been because they’d been trapped in the bus
together for so long.
    But she hadn’t been looking at John’s stomach, had she?
    “Everyone okay?”
    She nodded, feeling very self-conscious.
    “Yeah,” John said. “Do you want to tell the others we’re about to
park up?”
    Noah headed for the stairs and she kept her eyes firmly on the
table. She knew he was wearing one of his many pairs of skinny jeans. It
wouldn’t be safe to look up until he was well out of the way. She had to nip
this thing in the bud.
    ***
    T here was just about time to get something to eat before the gig,
but John and the driver were the only people who had any appetite. Noah sat in
the dressing room, strumming his battered acoustic guitar to settle his nerves.
His fidgeting had already annoyed the band to the point where they’d gone out
to the stage. Now they sat with their instruments holding a stop-start
conversation and having a post-sound-check sound-check. Angelique kept walking
from the bar to the dressing room and back again.
    After he’d bought a bag of crisps and a chocolate bar, John found himself
a seat near the back of the room. Angelique sat with him briefly, but she was
too antsy to