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Edie
The paracetamols had finally taken effect and Edie had learned a very painful lesson, swearing an oath to anyone who would listen that she would never breakfast-drink ever again. During the course of the morning, Ace and Joe had also learned a lesson, about who their friends were. The drenched security men had called to the house with an armful of gifts and cards for the birthday boy and were sent away with flasks of coffee and a Tupperware full of cake.
Ace felt terrible that his friends hadn’t been allowed in, but accepted it was for the best and had texted them all and promised a proper get-together soon.
Joe had been in constant touch with Chaz and Steve who were also barricaded in their homes and dealing with distraught wives and kids who were reeling at the stories circulating everywhere, and as was always the case, the rumour-mongers and drum-bangers were having a field day. Mud was sticking and it appeared that innocent until proven guilty was a thing of the past, especially when you were a celebrity.
Denny had gone to ground and was refusing to speak to any of his bandmates but demanding to speak to Gus. Gus had passed the buck to Oliver, who was holding the fort in London.
Joe said he had complete faith in Oliver and was glad that Gus was able to delegate. Apparently Denny was furious and didn’t care that Gus was too ill to speak to him and accused Oliver of hanging him out to dry. Now, Denny was kicking out and threatening to sell his story to the press, who needed to hear his side because it wasn’t fair that he’d been branded a rapist and child molester when the other members of the band hadn’t exactly taken holy orders. If Chaz and Steve didn’t despise Denny already, they did now. Joe had done so for years.
They weren’t the only ones. Gus was sick and tired and disgusted by Denny’s past behaviour and in no mood for his antics. He also seemed to be flagging. Jenny had been clucking around him, insisting he rested and avoided stress which under the circumstances was nigh on impossible. But everyone could see he wasn’t well and after wishing Ace a happy birthday he’d retired to his room, saying he would hole up there for the rest of the morning.
Edie, Ace and Lance were in the kitchen chatting with Nanou who was preparing lunch, determined that it would be business as usual, regardless of stupid people with their stupid cameras. Because it was his birthday and as tradition dictated, Ace got to choose what they ate, so they were all looking forward to his favourite, lasagne. Jenny and Joe were outside feeding the animals and wouldn’t have seen Kamal, one of the security team arrive, heading towards the kitchen.
Lance stood first and went to meet him at the door, turning to Ace as he grabbed the handle. ‘Looks like the birthday boy got mail!’
Sure enough, he was handed a stack of sodden letters but as he did so, Kamal issued a warning. ‘Most of them are greetings cards and bills but I need to show your father the one on the top as a matter of urgency. We suspect it is from his stalker. Is he available?’
Everyone in the kitchen stopped what they were doing and listened as Lance nodded in the direction of the yard. ‘He’s here now.’ Calling over Kamal’s shoulder, he waved for Joe to hurry. ‘Dad, looks like we got another letter from the weirdo. You need to open it ASAP.’
Lance gestured for Kamal to enter, and everyone watched as Joe and Jenny stopped at the door and kicked off their damp boots. Once inside the kitchen, still in their waterproof jackets, Jenny moved closer to Joe who silently took the letter that Lance passed him. Edie held her breath.
They all watched as Joe’s eyes scanned the envelope. He sounded resigned as he spoke. ‘Yeah, it’s them all right. Same writing. Same postmark. Here, Jenny, you read it. Seeing the words makes me sick.’
With a nod, Jenny took the envelope and carefully sliced it open with her nail, then read out loud. ‘You disgust me. You deserve to rot in hell. I am going to send you there. Coming to get you. Time is running out.’
Nanou made a strange noise, halfway between a gasp and a cry then turned, shaking her head, and busied herself at her chopping board. Edie took Ace’s hand and after checking he was okay – his face was pale but otherwise he was not showing any signs of distress – she observed the others. Jenny was looking at the letter again, as if scanning for clues. Kamal was reaching for his phone and heading towards the door, no doubt contacting Pierre, while Joe began shrugging off his jacket, worry reflected in his frown and the set of his jaw. But when her eyes rested on Lance she got a shock when he returned her inquisitiveness with a stone-cold glare.
Ace spoke. ‘I still can’t believe whoever it is has managed to track Dad down. I always thought people respected our privacy here, not like in the city. We need to see if we can get any photos that give clues to our location taken down. I’ll look.’ He shot off to fetch his Mac, leaving her with a sense of abandonment, floundering in Lance’s death-ray stare-zone.
Dragging her eyes away because it was making her feel uncomfortable, Edie was relieved when Ace returned, his laptop open and after a few seconds, he’d found what he was looking for. A page for NorthStar superfans and there in the photo album were plenty of images of Joe, chatting at the gates to the farm. If you zoomed in, there for all to see was a name, carved into the stone, La Babinais. The trail was easy to follow, thanks to long-haired rock and rollers standing by the sign that welcomed you to the village, ‘Bienvenue à Herval’, goofy harmless grins on their faces. They had reached the holy grail, the home of their idol.
Joe looked over Ace’s shoulder and sighed, then ran a hand through his hair and went to hang his jacket in the boot room, giving weary orders as he walked. ‘No point bothering Gus with all that. Let him rest. Lance, can you scan the letter and send it over to the police? And give Oliver a call and let him know we got another one.’
‘Sure thing, Dad.’ But even though he was addressing Joe, Lance kept his sullen gaze on Edie and his next comment, which seemed to be directed at her, made her heart race. ‘I agree with Ace: let’s see if somehow we can get those photos taken down, but I’ve been thinking, and something doesn’t add up.’
‘What do you mean?’ Joe had moved over to where Nanou was slicing tomatoes and placed his arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze before facing Lance.
‘I mean that it’s odd, how they sent letters to New York and London within days of each other, but it took another month for any to arrive here. So why now?’ Lance directed his question to Joe but as soon as he went to the fridge to find a beer, Lance’s attention turned back to Edie, just as Jenny looked up from scrutinising the letter and envelope. Had she spotted the look too?
Edie knew her cheeks were aflame, fuelled by her racing heart that was responding to a brain that asked too many questions and top of the list was ‘what is his problem?’
From the puzzled look on Jenny’s face, she thought the same as she spoke up. ‘I don’t think there’s a big mystery. Maybe the whacko Marnie took longer to track this place down and then as soon as she realised it’s where Joe actually lives, decided to pursue him here. And now the news has broken she’s probably gonna go into a frenzy so be prepared. They’re just words and celebrities get trolled every single day much worse than this, so I really don’t know why you’re getting so het up about it.’
Joe answered first, beating open-mouthed Lance to it. ‘Because it’s not online, words on a screen, and we can’t delete the account or block them, that’s why. Those words written on paper, placed in an envelope then posted tell me that whoever Marnie is, she’s determined. Not content with trolling me the new way. The actual physical threat is in the paper, the stamp, the ink. Her hand wrote those words, her poisoned brain thought them. I can’t block a real-life human, I can’t push a button and erase them from my life just like I can’t stop someone from actually knowing where I live, where my kids and friends are. That’s what’s freaking me out.’
Holding up her hands in surrender, Jenny passed the envelope to Lance and now it was her turn to sound tired of it all. ‘Okay, I get it. Now you put it like that. Lance, you’d best do what your dad asked and make those calls. I need a drink and yes before anyone says it, another one!’
Ace dragged his eyes from the screen. ‘Are you okay, Dad? I know we’re all feeling this but it’s hardest for you.’
‘Son, I’m sick to the stomach and I’m starting to lose my shit with it all. I’ll cope but I’ve made a decision.’
All eyes were on him and even Nanou stopped what she was doing. ‘I’m not hiding up here anymore. It’s making me feel pathetic, and guilty. So, when Gus feels up to it I’m going to get him to arrange a conference call with Oliver in London, and Chaz and Steve and we’re going to either put a press release out or I’m going down there to speak to them all myself, get it over with.’
‘Dad, promise me you won’t go storming down there, especially when you’ve had a drink.’ Lance was more than likely speaking for all of them because that was the last thing Joe needed was his face all over the front pages and people twisting or misquoting his words.
‘Hey, give your old dad some credit. I know the game and from now on they’re only getting what I want them to get. So don’t worry. Maybe all of us could go down there, show a united front. Joe Jarrett: family man. We can even take the bastards some of your birthday cake.’
