March 5th, 1971

    The recording sessions had been going well, there’d been nothing more than a few verbal clashes that got sorted out rather quickly. I hoped it would continue this way, as we still had the producer hired until the ninth, though the look I’d seen on Dale’s face this morning made me doubt it would.
    The band had been in the studio for nearly five hours when I heard them emerge. I was in the kitchen standing by the stove waiting for water to boil, and Sylvia was relaxing on the sofa with a book.
    Everyone seemed in good spirits as they trickled into the hallway, and slowly dispersed.
    “Hey, Lee, do you remember that chick who kept following you around?” Willie asked. “Somewhere in Germany.”
    “More like all of Germany,” Lee retorted. “It was a blessing the Dutch stopped her at the border.”
    Most of them were in the kitchen now, searching for drinks and any food they could get their hands on.
    “I’m sure all she wanted to do was cast your cock in plaster,” Dale offered. “Make a mold from it and sell dildos.”
    “You’re a moron, Dale,” Clyde scoffed. His tone gave away the thinly-veiled insult.
    All the amusement fell from Dale’s face in an instant. “What?”
    Clyde noticed the accusatory tone and replied similarly. “I said you’re a moron.”
    Dale let out a short laugh and spoke. “Well, if a moron can fuck a man’s wife for months, what does that make him?”
    I saw Cameron’s brow tighten and knew what he was thinking.
    “Watch it,” Clyde replied. His voice was stern and his teeth were nearly bared.
    “All I’m saying is,” Dale continued with a malicious grin, “that woman knows how to use her mouth.”
    It was a lucky thing that Lee was standing nearby and quickly put his hand on Clyde’s shoulder.
    Clyde stared at Dale for a tense moment before turning to leave the room. “I tried, Cameron,” he stated as he walked past us and into the sitting room. “Sylvia, we’re leaving.”
    I had no doubt that she had heard the exchange in the kitchen, and I was proven correct when she simply stood, a frown on her face, and followed Clyde out of the front door without a word.
    “A bit dramatic,” Dale mumbled once the front door closed.
    “Seriously?” I asked incredulously.
    “You are a moron,” Lee chimed in.
    Dale was clearly insulted, but I paid no attention to him. The producer, a talented once-musician named Ron, walked into the room from the studio and looked around.
    “Where’s Clyde gone?” he asked in confusion.
    “Home,” Willie stated.
    Cameron looked at me and sighed. “We should get Colin on the phone.”


    Luckily for Amoeba, Colin was free to step in to finish recording. He’d gratefully accepted to stay with Cameron and I for the next four days, but didn’t have money for the train to Aberdeen. Without much hesitation, Cameron got in the van and left for Kirkcaldy. The drive was just about one hundred miles, so we wouldn’t expect Cameron and Colin to return for at least four hours.
    I didn’t much want to be anywhere near Dale, who I was finding increasingly difficult to get along with, so when those of us left at the house reached a lull in the conversation I excused myself.
    “I’ve got a headache starting,” I told them. “I’ll be upstairs. Lee, take care of my house,” I added.
    “Will do,” Lee replied. I gave him a weak smile and left him to deal with Willie, Ron, and Dale.
    Once in the sanctuary of my bedroom, I sighed. I felt bad for Sylvia, who was caught in the middle of an angry husband and a shameless lover. I laid on the bed and pulled the blanket over myself, holding it tight to my chest. I closed my eyes and spent a few minutes pushing all the worries from my mind before slipping into unconsciousness.


    I awoke hearing the sweet sound of Cameron’s voice. He spoke my name softly as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
    “You brought Colin?” I mumbled, my eyes opening slowly.
    Cameron nodded and gently touched his palm to my forehead. “Are you feeling alright? Lee said you had a headache.”
    “I think I quelled it,” I replied as I sat up. “I think it was the high concentration of drama,” I added with a chuckle.
    “I don’t blame you,” he assured me. “Honestly, I was relieved to go for a drive.” Cameron laughed softly and leaned closer to kiss me. “You’re positive you feel alright?”
    “It’s nothing, Cameron,” I insisted. “Don’t worry. You should get back to the studio.”
    Cameron shifted his body closer to mine and put his arm around my waist. “They’ve waited this long, they can wait longer.” He smiled reassuringly and touched his lips to my cheek.
    A smile spread across my face but I didn’t speak. Instead, Cameron broke the silence between us.
    “Do you know the term seppuku?” he asked quietly.

    I nodded slowly. “Honour suicide.”

    He took my hands in his and looked at me with sincerity in his eyes. “I would sooner do that to myself, than do anything to make you feel as she does,” he said firmly.
    “How do you know that’s what I’m thinking of?” I asked.
    “You’re screaming about it,” Cameron replied. “Silently, but I can still hear it.”
    I rested my head against his shoulder and let out a huff. “I’m sorry you can hear me screaming.” My voice was only a whisper. “And I would never let you hurt yourself, anyway. Even if it was for honour.”
    “I never would, my love.” Cameron lifted my chin to gaze at me. “You make me too happy to even think about pain.”
    I returned his smile with my own, but gave him a nudge. “Go on,” I urged. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
    Cameron gave me a swift peck on the lips before leaving the room and heading down the stairs. I took a few minutes to wash my face in the bathroom, hoping the water would have a cleansing effect. I refused to give any thoughts time to return to me, so I headed into the hall and downstairs.
    Colin stood in the middle of the sitting room, trying to balance a drumstick on the tip of his nose. Everyone in the room was captivated by the performance, and even more so when it balanced perfectly.
    “Someone call the circus,” I joked aloud.
    The drumstick fell, but Colin caught it as he turned towards me. “Nice to see you, Emily,” he greeted with a large grin on his face.
    “You know what would be really interesting?” I added as I smiled back. “If you could do that on stilts. Then I would definitely sell you to the circus.”
    Colin laughed and thanked me for the compliment.
    “Wasn’t a compliment,” I answered with a wink.
    He shook his head and feigned sadness. “You’re not a very nice grandmother,” he whimpered.
    I shrugged and let out an exaggerated sigh. “Why would I be nice to a grandson who doesn’t even call? Your grandma’s always at home, by the phone waiting for someone to call. Anyone to call,” I added dramatically, though I was suppressing a laugh. “All I’ve got is my knitting and the crosswords!”
    My final, albeit fake, cry of sadness made everyone laugh. Even Ron, who was known by all as a stoic man, cracked a smile.
    “Alright, get going into the studio,” I shooed. “Grandma’s got cooking to do.”