Be With You (Loneliness) Read online

  "Oh, boy. Plan to use several wipes to get her clean," I tell him.

  More grunting.

  I wonder what she ate? I think to the snacks she had, then remember giving her a new fruit. "Marcus, tell me if there's anything...unusual about what's in her nappy," I ask.

  "She's not acting sick."

  Lizzie sighs, relieved.

  "You might be right. I think she just needed to...go...a lot!"

  Marcus brings a cleaned-up Lizzie, wrapped in a combination towel-robe, into the bathroom. He lifts himself to the counter and sits.

  Standing on the fluffy bath mat, she shucks the towel and climbs into the warm water with my assistance. She splashes the water, getting herself and me wet. I give her several water toys.

  "What did you and your mum discuss?"

  "Plans for tomorrow before the benefit concert. She and dad will come here for dinner before - she's bringing dessert. After, she and dad will take little stink-bug here to the park, along with her nappy bag..."

  "Let's hope stink bug won't give us a repeat of tonight's nappy!" Marcus says, laughing

  "Ewwww! If need be, we can clean her up before they leave. Lizzie, your grammie and grampie will be here tomorrow night to take you to my show!" I tell her.

  "Grammie? Grampie? No auntie?"

  "No, not auntie," I say, just as persistent honking begins outside.

  Marcus and I both sigh. He stands, saying, "I'll go take care of her. You keep stink bug inside."

  "Not stink bug any more. She's going to smell so nice, just like the flowers!" I say, distracting Lizzie, who also hears the honking. "Go make her stop. She's scaring Lizzie. Daddy's going to make auntie stop."

  I get Lizzie cleaned and dried. Dressing her for bed, I realize Marcus is still downstairs. I give Lizzie a kiss, read a bed time story to her, then shut her bedroom light and close her door. Downstairs, I search for Marcus inside. Peeking outside, I see him standing at the gate, arguing with...who else? Millie. Sighing, I open the door slightly so I can better hear what's being said.

  "...Not what you think, Millie! The band are composed of good, solid citizens of Saint Albans. Your petition is wrong-hearted. No, they won't disband voluntarily," Marcus says stubbornly.

  "...bad people. Long hair, drugs, promiscuity...example for our young people! My group...there, protesting. Expect us to make a lot of noise!...drown out your 'music,'" Millie threatens.

  "Go! Get out of here, before I call the police!" Marcus says. He stands there, waiting.

  I pick up my phone, ready to call the police or give it to Marcus to do so.

  "Get on out of here! Now!"

  I wait, my finger hovering over the numbers for the emergency services number. I'm looking at the gate, keeping myself positioned behind the kitchen door.

  She won't leave, so I call the police and report what is happening. Once I have hung up, I walk outside so I can let Marcus know I've called already.

  "Marcus. What's going on?"

  "She won't stop harassing us. I've told her I'm going to call the police."

  I look into his eyes and send a silent message to him.

  Marcus registers this message. We wait then. If she gets ugly, go inside.

  Yes, I will. I just wanted to let you know they're on their way.

  Five minutes later, two police cars pull up, one next to Millie's car, one just behind. The officers step out of their cars and approach the gate.

  "Sir? What's going on here?"

  "For starters, how about the fact that this woman, who is, unfortunately my sister, refuses to stop coming round uninvited. She has made her feelings about my wife and child well-known. Second, while my wife and I were putting our child to bed, she came round, again uninvited, honking and irritating neighbors. She keeps wanting to cover issues that I refuse to discuss with her," Marcus says.

  "Aren't you...that minister organizing the take-down of The Lonely Lovers, the band?" asks the other officer.

  "Why, yes, I am. Are you aware that at least two of the members are virulent drug abusers and that his wife is a slut with loose morals? That the baby she is carrying is very likely not my brother's? That my other brother, who is in the band, is violent?" Millie asserts.

  The officers look at Marcus and me. The expressions on their faces are, thankfully skeptical.

  Marcus grinds his teeth as he tries to hold onto his patience.

  "Officer, everything she has just brought up - all false, all lies. My brother is not a violent man. The band members are not drug abusers, and my wife certainly does not have loose morals. She's just trying to intimidate us into canceling this concert."

  "Ma'am, you have to leave. You're creating a disturbance and everyone here has the right to enjoy their properties with nobody's interference. If you don't have solid proof of someone's actions, it's best not to air them - else you find yourself on the wrong end of a defamation lawsuit. Sir, Mrs. Hadley, please do not cancel the concert. I know many of my family and friends are all interested, and many of us have bought tickets. Mrs.?..." the officer says, looking at Millie.

  "Smythe. How can you support them? They are immoral!"

  "Mrs. Smythe, you are disturbing the peace. I am giving you one more chance. If you do not leave right now, you will force me to arrest you and take you to the jail. Now, which is it?" asks the officer who seems to be in the lead.

  "All right, all right, I'll leave! But you...and you...haven't heard the last from me!" Millie says, shaking a short finger at us. Getting into her car, she tries mightily to get around the officer's cars. She has plenty of room, but she is nervous and angry to boot. From my vantage point, it looks like she comes perilously close to striking one car. Finally, she manages to pull out and leaves quickly. It's good she left, because shortly afterward, the satellite van and news crew show up. Marcus opens the electronic gate at the rear of our property, letting the crew drive in.

  After they set up, we sit, wondering what kinds of questions they will ask.

  "Mrs. Hadley, you and your band, The Lonely Lovers have been the subject of a church group's petition. This church group want to force your band to break up. In response, The Lonely Lovers are putting a benefit show on - tomorrow night - to help the homeless in Saint Albans. Why are you doing this?" asks the photogenic female reporter.

  "It's simple, really. We love music. Each band member have professional musical education and training, so the music we write and perform is well-written. Our music can be listened to by people of all ages, children and adults. When we learned of this petition, my husband came up with the idea that we could give a free concert here in Saint Albans. We spoke to the mayor and he made one change - he asked us to change our plans to a benefit concert, charging a ticket fee for admission to benefit the homeless."

  "Why are this church group trying to force your band to break up?"

  I look at Marcus. "I would rather have Marcus answer this one," I say.

  "My sister is the new minister of this church. When she came back to the U.K. upon graduating from her divinity program in the United States, she professed to some extremely conservative and, may I say, narrow-minded viewpoints on several groups and members of these groups - immigrants, minorities, lesbians, transgendered and gays. She never took to Johanna and, in fact, started calling her...well, 'loose' would describe it in a way that's suitable for your audience. Beyond that, much of what she has said remains between us," Marcus says.

  "Do you think this church's petition will succeed?"

  "No! Oh, no!" I say. "First, she has tried to say that their other brother is 'violent,' that two other members of the band are drug addicts and that I am...of loose morals. None of this is true. It is all based on the beliefs she assumed and began acting upon while she lived in the States. No. We are not disbanding. Not ever."

  The interview ended shortly after and the anchor requested our permission to transmit her report from our back yard after she edited camera shots.

  "Certainly. And thank you for s
eeking us out," Marcus says.

  I drink some hot tea so I can be more successful at staying awake. I want to see this news report and see what is actually reported upon. Marcus and I snuggle on the sofa and await the news to begin. One hour later, it is finally on. We watch impatiently as the anchors report on international and national news. Finally, it's about to start!

  "And, from Saint Albans, where our reporter, Jennifer Snow, traveled this evening, we have the reactions of the lead singer of The Lonely Lovers and her husband, regarding a petition intended to break up the band. Jennifer, what have you learned?"

  "Michael, I spoke this evening with Mr. and Mrs. Hadley in their home. We talked about the composition of The Lonely Lovers, because, as you know, a highly conservative church group in Saint Albans has been circulating a petition and gathering signatures intended for presentation to the mayor of Saint Albans. The church group want to force the band to dissolve, alleging that two members are drug abusers, another is violent and the lead singer, Johanna Hadley, is promiscuous."

  The interview airs, and I see myself on television. I look a bit tired, but I'm grateful I took the time to change to a more-presentable outfit. Marcus sits next to me, with his arm around my shoulders. We listen as the interview plays out. What I say sounds reasoned!

  "So, there you have it, Michael. The new minister of this church and the de facto leader of this group is the sister of Marcus Hadley. We did not go into the U.S.-based groups with which she was involved, but from what Mr. and Mrs. Hadley say in their interview, it appears that that group, or those groups are highly conservative. Tomorrow night will be interesting - I have heard that the church group plans to protest right outside the concert venue, an outdoor park in Saint Albans," the reporter says. "We will be there to cover the concert. Should be interesting. Back to you in the studio."

  With that, the news is over. I take a deep breath and look over at Marcus. He looks as shocked as I feel.

  "Protest? Outside the park? Please tell me she's kidding!"

  "I am surprised, too. I will be calling the mayor tomorrow. If he doesn't know about this, he needs to know so you have protection," says Marcus. "We can call in the British security company we have used before to help out."

  Finally, I am too sleepy to hold my eyes open and discuss with him about the extra security.

  "I have to go to bed. I can't stay awake. I just hope the publicity is good," I say to Marcus.

  "It can't be anything but positive. We stayed away from negativity," Marcus says. With that, Marcus carries me to bed, where I toss and turn all night long.

  The next morning, we get to the studio, ready to rehearse for tonight. We go over the sets, not hearing anything that needs any additional work. After we have gone through both sets, Tim dismisses us early, telling us to rest up for that night. Like that is going to happen!

  At home, Marcus finds several voice mails from people he has never met - all stating support for him and the band after last night's interview!

  I log onto my computer and find several similar messages in my own email account. The messages all pledge support, saying, "What that church group are doing is wrong. We will speak up for you to the mayor if need be. Just let me know and I will be there."

  This makes me cry! Of course, I am more emotional than usual. Being pregnant does that to you! After I dry my tears, I call Tim - he, Laslow and Linny have all gotten similar emails, with correspondents all saying they will speak up for us if need be.

  We have voice mails from Saint Albans shop owners, all promising to contribute to the funding for the homeless. I send a fast email to Nigel, letting him know this. He is working on a large publicity poster and wants to highlight all shops and businesses helping us out.

  After I put Lizzie to bed for a short nap, I respond quickly to the emails. Once this is done, I wash and chop up the potatoes for dinner and season the chicken breasts. I check on Marcus - he is working - and tell him I am going to take a short nap. I definitely need my rest before the big night!

  I wake up when I hear Lizzie calling for me. Taking her downstairs, I give her a snack and she settles into Marcus' office, allowing me to take a quick shower. Changing to a loose pair of yoga pants and a short-sleeved sweater, I go back downstairs to start on dinner.

  Mum and dad ring to let us know they are on their way.

  Marcus finishes his work for the day and, when my parents arrive, he lets them into the house. Right after my mum and dad arrive, Marcus' parents arrive. The plan is to show Millie how she, her attitudes and activities are isolating herself from those who love her.

  Mum and I work on dinner while dad and Marcus entertain Lizzie. After we have eaten, I help Lizzie change into a clean summer dress and a pair of sandals. I pack a change of clothing into her nappy bag - just in case.

  Mum, Lizzie and dad take off for the park - they will allow her to run around for a while before the concert begins so she can use up some of her energy. I wish that I had half the energy that Lizzie had! She is growing so fast!

  I go upstairs to brush my makeup on - I will be highlighting my dark eyes so that I show up more easily on the large screens. For my hair, I style it in a loose upsweep, allowing my curls to cascade down my shoulders. I take my new outfit out of its bag. This is a bright-blue, shimmery top with three-quarter length, flowing sleeves. It has a scoop neck that hints at my cleavage. The bodice flows down over my back and abdomen and the hem is cut in a handkerchief style. The pants, made of a variegated blue silk, feature a wide elastic waistband with a drawstring. The legs are form-fitting around my ass and thighs, expanding out from my knees. Already, I find it necessary to wear flats, so I choose a pair of sandals with a 1-inch kitten heel. After I slip the ensemble on, I gaze at my reflection - I am twenty-three, but I look more mature. Looking at my pregnant belly, I can see that the blouse hides the small pooch.

  Marcus comes out from his shower and his eyes widen at my appearance.

  "You do know that I'm going to have to ravish you tonight," he says.

  I smile. "Ravish away - after the concert is over! We don't have much time," I say, giggling. Walking to my husband, I stretch up and give him a long, searching kiss. This makes him growl low in his throat as he grabs my ass and grinds himself into me. I feel his aroused cock pressing itself against me, causing my pussy to contract and release fluid.

  "Ohhh, don't, or I'll throw you on our bed right now," I tell him.

  He lets me go and I see the tent his towel is making.

  "You are going to have to wait. We have a concert to put on!" I slap his wandering hand away and push him off of me.

  "Have water with you? Let's go," Marcus says, folding my hand inside his.

  I tremble, knowing this will be the first time Lizzie sees me performing.

  "I'll take video and snaps through the entire concert. This way, we can give Lizzie lots of good memories," Marcus promises.

  Chapter 8

  I am getting excited and nervous at the same time. I love performing in front of a live audience, but at the same time, I am worried about what Millie and her group have in store for us! We arrive at the city green and Marcus drives to the area that has been reserved for the band and the city employees who have set up the stage, lighting and sound system. We walk to the stage and I hear some disturbing noises. Looking around, I spot Millie's group, holding signs and shouting pre-determined phrases. My stomach does a small flip-flop. The signs say, "Stop artist groups from benefiting! Artist groups and musicians are evil!" Individual members shout things such as, "Fight back against drug use! Protect your children!"

  I feel a shiver of apprehension. We can only set the sound system so high before we are in violation of sound ordinances - if we cannot drown out the noise of this protest group, the concert will be ruined! I look around for security but so far don't see any. Marcus ushers me to the rest of the band.

  We start our sound checks and then began to play. At first I think everything is going well, before I realize t
hat the audience can't hear us. We stop after the first song and confer with the sound guys. They tinkered with the sound as much as they could. Still we - and the audience - can hear the sounds of the protest group.

  I look around - Oh, no! The protest group have moved closer to the stage! I look at Tim and his face is grim. He shakes his head. A police officer approaches and talks to us.

  "We have as many officers as we can spare here. We have several civilian men who have volunteered to form a physical barrier between you and the protesters. Would this help?"

  Tim grins and nods.

  "Yes, sir, it would!"

  The officer leaves the stage, beckoning to the men, who follow him.

  Before we begin our next song of this first set, I glance back. Lord! A good forty men or more are standing, shoulder-to-shoulder with their backs to the stage! They are facing the protesters, giving them the message that the audience want to hear the music. Good!

  We are relieved. The group continues to perform, playing the first set. As the set ends, we receive thunderous applause from the audience, who appear to be giving the protesters their own message.

  I look at the men providing a physical barrier - they know they are forbidden from engaging the protesters, so they simply stand, providing a solid line of male resistance to hatred. We leave the stage and troop into the trailer set up for us. I gulp down water and sit down, shaking slightly. This is definitely a different situation to what I am used to! Nigel comes in, expressing excitement that the concert is going so well.

  "The police are guarding the stage so nobody can destroy instruments or sound equipment. Of course, anyone would be stupid to try - they would have to pay for the replacement costs of any damaged equipment," he says.

  "I don't know what else can be done," Tim says.

  "We can only get up there and give the audience our best." I touch-up my makeup and fuss with my hair. "I am not going to let Millie and her awful group get the best of us!"

  Marcus brings me some hot tea and I try to relax. We have to be back on stage in a few minutes. I close my eyes and try to drown out all the drama and focus on the positive.