Two hours later and the band was almost in Paris. Martin had finished tutoring Katie piano and turned off his phone, exhausted.
"Damn you know the piano well." Said Ollie,
"I'm grade eight. No diploma. Zoe's the piano genius." Said Martin,
"Yeah but you know it with your eyes closed." Complimented Ollie,
"Well I've been playing it for 25 years so I'd hope so." Laughed Martin, "Do you know how to play?"
"Nope I'm rhythm guitar only." Insisted Ollie.
"You're only saying that because you don't know how to play any other instrument." Mocked Martin,
"I have found my instrument and I like it. I've got no need for any other."
"You have found an instrument. There's a lot out there. I reckon you'd be good at the cello."
"Nah.. bows and stuff. Not into classical music."
"Classical music is good." Repelled Martin, "what music are you into then?"
"Like.. 70s, 80s rock. Guns n Roses, Oasis, Nirvana, Queen."
"Okay yeah i like them too." Admitted Martin,
"I think I'm too old to take up another instrument. I took up guitar when I was six."
"You're never too old to start." Said Martin, "what about singing?"
Ollie snorted with laughter, "singing? Seriously? Have you heard me singing?!"
"Yeah! And you're really good!" Insisted Martin,
"When have I ever sang in front of you?" Asked Ollie, nervous,
"Well, you did back up singing for Cloda a couple months ago. I turned off all the other microphones and just recorded you."
"No you didn't."
"Yes I did and I was blown away!"
"No you didn't! Why would you do that!" Shouted Ollie annoyed but joking,
"I want you to do a solo." Said Martin,
"No sir."
"I'm your manager, you do as i ask."
"No." Replied Ollie more sternly.
"What's the difference between the guitar and the voice I don't get it." Asked Martin,
"The guitar is an instrument, the voice is mine. Being good at an instrument is talent, being good at singing is.. luck."
"Are you saying Cloda's not talented?" Asked Martin,
"No- No! God I don't know sir. Just don't make me sing."
"You're too nervous."
"Yeah! I am. I've got my instrument. Everyone's got their place and we're happy with it."
"Okay." Accepted Martin. Giving up and tapping his finger against the wheel. Ollie looked down at it. He was wearing a ring, the same gold ring he used to wear.
"You're wearing your wedding ring." He exclaimed, confused.
Martin continued to concentrate on the road.
"Sir. Why are you wearing your wedding ring?" He repeated,
"I'm married, Ollie."
"You're divorced."
"We never got through the divorce. I never even got an annulment. I'm married." Justified Martin.
"But... she's dead." Whispered Ollie, looking both in sympathy and confusion at his teacher before he simply resulted in that Martin must just miss his wife. "Are you alright sir?"
Martin nodded, "found it in this jacket this morning. Haven't worn it in months. Must have been where i left it when.." Martin stopped himself from getting to personal.
"You said you weren't happy together." Recalled Ollie,
"We had a kid, Ollie. We obviously had some good times." Chuckled Martin,
"Oh! Don't give me images sir! You're my teacher!"
"I didn't mean it like that!" Laughed Martin, sighing, "we went to France a lot; me, Emily and Martha. It was good."
"Go on." Protruded Zoë, who had just woken up and sat in the seat behind.
"Oh- hello." Laughed Martin awkwardly, trying to cover his ring.
"Go on tell us about them." Encouraged Zoë,
"Not much to say really.." explained Martin, the memories he had he wanted to keep. They were his, nobody could touch them. So he summarised them.
"A lot of days in the sun, away from the forced relationships with our families. We didn't have to work or act and we could just be with Martha. It was one of the few times I actually ... loved my wife." Admitted Martin, feeling a bit self conscious,
"And- what happened after that." Asked Ollie, wondering how that would result in his wife's suicide.
"Well.. it's a bit deep but over the course of the holiday she became pregnant.." Martin remembered how happy he was finding out that he would have a second child, "but then a month later she said she had a miscarriage. But.. I found the abortion emails and letters." He looked down again, feeling horrible memories.
"Oh my god.. why would she have an abortion?" Asked Zoë,
"I don't know.. I honestly don't know.. and that's what we were arguing about when Martha died.." Muttered Martin, remembering that horrible horrible day.
Ollie didn't understand why Martin and his wife were fighting while their daughter was dying, he had envisioned that she had died of a virus or disease and that it wasn't sudden.
"Woah..." sniffed Martin, exhaling, "well we've arrived at the hotel. It's pretty fancy. We've got a couple nights here. Enjoy!"
Martin pulled the handbrake and parked just outside.
"Wow it's beautiful." Said Ollie, "five stars. Oh my god! Did you pay for this?"
"I'm gonna be absolutely broke after this tour." Laughed Martin, looking in the back. "Oh would you look at that." Cloda, Ryan, Jemma and Lucy lay fast asleep.
Ollie burst out laughing, looking over at his friends and taking out his phone, turning on his camera. "Oh my god this is gold!" He chuckled, taking several photos.
Martin and Zoe looked at each other, smiling.
"Welcome to Paris." Said Martin, smiling. Opening the door and taking Zoe's hand, helping her out. Jokingly, Ollie put out his hand at Martin as to ask for help, Martin laughed, walking away immediately before knocking on the window of the bus to wake up the rest of the band.
"Bonjour! Nous sommes à Paris!" Called Martin in his best French accent.
The four sleeping teenagers stumbled awake, dazed.
"Have a nice beauty sleep ladies?" Joked Ollie, laughing at all his friends.
"Who you callin' lady?" Growled Ryan, wiping his eyes and standing heavily up.
"Okay, ladies and a tramp." Corrected Ollie, stepping outside and looking around at the city, chuckling.
"It's so beautiful." Said Zoe, looking to the aesthetic buildings and the cobbled road before looking over to Martin in excitement. "I can't believe we're here!" She squeaked, giving an excited jump and wrapping her arms around Martin. "God you must be exhausted."
Martin was a little overwhelmed by the hug, but he loved it, "I'm okay, a two hour drive never hurt anyone." He smiled at her, feeling her cheek with his own.
"How many rooms have you booked?" Asked Cloda, climbing out of the van, under her eyes were dark from the mascara that had transferred below her eyes.
"Four." Replied Martin, "and you look a bit like a raccoon."
"Wow thanks sir!" Laughed Cloda, wiping under her eyes with her index finger.
"Come on let's check in." Replied Martin, helping to carry in the suitcases before locking the van.