PROLOGUE

August, 2000


She could hear them searching for her and slowly burrowed further into the storm tossed debris in the drainage ditch, trying desperately to make no sound. Her skin was already coated with the slimy ooze, there was nothing else she could do to avert capture.

A shadow passed over the mouth of the culvert and she closed her eyes, not wanting to see or be seen. Moments later there was a shout from the road, she heard running footsteps and then the sound of a motor accelerating. Fearing a trick, she remained where she was until, at last, as dark was fast approaching, she crept timidly out and stole a glance at the roadway. There was no one in sight and she ventured further, gained more confidence and began to jog down the road in the direction she hoped was London, nervously watching the verge for signs of a parked car or the dim glow of skin.

Several times she saw headlights approaching and dove into the under brush at the side of the road, once from the rear as well, but none of the vehicles paused or stopped. After a while she came near a village and took to the fields to circle around it, the lush, damp grasses soothing to her sore feet after the harshness of the pavement and pebbles. Reluctantly she went back on the road and kept going. With only a few stops to catch her breath she walked or jogged alternately throughout the night, circling villages, creeping up to a cross roads to read the signs.

Among the softly glinting words she saw the one she wanted: London, 69 K. She was going in the right direction.

Early morning came. Her bare feet had long since cracked and now were bleeding slightly but she knew if she stopped she would be found. She dared to approach a farm vehicle just turning onto the road, laden with vegetables for the market. She begged a ride from the farmer and something about her touched his heart. He let her ride in the back and she curled up on a bushel basket of carrots and slept until they entered London, slipping off with a wave of thanks when she reached an area close to where she had decided to go.

Another hour of walking, ignoring the disgusted looks of the other pedestrians and the pain of her abused feet. Finally she was at the church, entered the tiny, old cemetery and waited quietly behind some shrubs at the entrance to the rectory. Her timing was excellent and after only a few minutes the door opened and Father Rene stepped out into the early morning sunshine.

She stepped into his path and he jumped in surprise, then, as it became clear to him who she was he reached out to take her filthy hands.

“Dear Child…What has happened to you? Here, come inside.”

Several hours later two nuns carrying luggage entered the rectory, and stayed for a few hours. When darkness descended on the city once more, three nuns left for the airport.


**

October, 2000

Carlos sighed as he used the last bit of cream in the jar to remove his stage makeup. Tonight had been a particularly difficult performance, the tension between him and Geraldine difficult to hide, from the crew and cast and particularly from the audience. He hated it when they fought, though this time he could see her point. But she had to understand. He was born to be a flirt…it meant nothing, he didn’t follow through…well, almost never. And if he did was it such a bad thing? He always came back to her didn’t he? Perhaps it was just the age difference…..sure that’s what it was. After all he was more mature. But did that mean that he should be the one to apologize?

He finished changing and ran the comb through his hair one last time before leaving the dressing room, determined to face her and settle their differences in a mature, adult fashion, grinned at one of the ladies from the chorus as he exited his assigned dressing room…. and of course Gerry had to be right there, behind the woman, seething with fury as he dragged his eyes away from the half clad woman and she glared at him.

She stomped past him, down the hall and out the stage door to the parking lot, stood impatiently by the car waiting for him to catch up and unlock the passenger side, looking more like the Beast at the moment than the Beauty that she had just portrayed on the stage. He unlocked the door and took a step to round the car, yelped when the door was thrown open and hit him in the backside before he got far.

Why was he cursed with this innate charm that had women everywhere throwing themselves at him? It wasn’t his fault.

He got in and started the engine, ignoring the chill coming from the passenger seat, prepared to suffer through her silence, still not convinced that he should apologize. At least she wasn’t crying. He couldn’t stand it when she cried. It melted him, dredging up all the good times they had enjoyed over their years together, wanting more than anything to put a smile back on her face.

She started to cry, tears silently pooling in her eyes and trailing across her face.

He pulled the car over and took her in his arms.

“Querida….please do not weep. I am so sorry for hurting you. It will never happen again.” In his mind he clearly heard his conscience whisper ‘I hope’ as she sobbed against his chest and he held his one true love, murmuring how much he loved her into her soft hair.

**

December 2000

It was one of those clear, crisp winter days that made New York a wonderland, just before Christmas, the busy city aglow with decorations for the upcoming holiday, shoppers scurrying about with last minute purchases, music on every corner with red-suited Santas and small salvation Army bands reminding everyone that those less fortunate needed help enjoying the season as well.

David hunched his shoulders a bit against the cold, eager to get back to his small apartment and tidy up before Sarah arrived from Colorado. He was so looking forward to seeing her after a separation again, 3 months this time.

He didn’t know what their secret was of maintaining their relationship over the forced absences but somehow it worked. Each time they got together in person it was fresh and new and he fell in love with her all over again. Sure they both went out while they were apart, but never anything serious, usually just dinner with a group of friends or SRO performances of artists they knew and again, with a group. He knew Sarah did the same. Neither of them ever dated one-on-one and they talked often on the phone or online about the great times they had but more about how they missed being together.

He crossed the street and ran up the steps to the brownstone where he rented a nice flat on the second floor, switched the flowers to his other arm while he unlocked the door and thanked whatever Fates were responsible for the House being dark tonight. Tomorrow, after he had spent a good 12 hours alone with his dearest Sarah would be soon enough to get back into character for his role…. and Sarah would be right there in the audience to see it for the first time.

He was humming softly as he opened the door to the flat, shucked off his coat and began to tidy up the place in preparation for her arrival.

**

January 2001

Sebastien left his apartment in Paris and decided to walk to the venue, not a great distance and the night was unseasonably warm. As always in this, his home town he thrilled at the sight of Paris in the evening, the cafes lit subtly, stylishly clad people bustling about, he liked to think keeping trysts with loved ones. There was always an aura of joy about the city, of something wonderful just about to happen, all looked over lovingly by the lit up Tower that loomed over the city or the serene Cathedral that soared into the night sky, offering hope to those who may have lost their way.

The gig tonight could be a turning point for his career. He knew that but felt no apprehension about the fact that there would be agents in the audience, that perhaps the recording contract he so yearned for would come out of tonight’s performance. He was confident, pleased with the sets the group had decided on, sure that the perfectionism he was known for had tweaked his creations into something that could not be ignored.

He smiled as he strode purposefully along the sidewalk, nearing the venue, a suave, good natured man with sparkling blue/green eyes that made many women glance a second time, wishing he would make eye contact, disappointed when he passed on by with only a non-committal smile.

Life was good. Could it get any better?

**

March 2001

The chorale put the finishing touches on Johannes Passion in preparation for the night’s performance, all well pleased with the rehearsal. It was a difficult piece but the key roles had been filled perfectly and performed with a passion that should enthrall their audience.

Urs was happy with the work he had done, his three Arias, his favorite admittedly short but beautiful, had gone well and his voice had never been better. This work with the chorale was to have been a learning experience for him, at his age he was not expected to be a major star yet but his lyric tenor voice had just enough unusual quality after all the years of training and practice that he had been noticed and given this opportunity to show his worth. And he did.

What a change from his days with the Heavy Metal band, Conspiracy, he thought as he crashed on the too short sofa in the dressing room he shared with a couple of other tenors.

They had garnered mild success, traveling throughout Europe to varied venues, offering their covers of American groups, usually to very enthusiastic crowds. Then he had heard the intriguing music of Carmen Burana and that was it for him. His focus had changed to intense study of classical voice and there was no holding him back. All his studies had developed his inherent talent to the point that he now studied with the masters and was reaching for the elusive goal of starring roles.

He wondered, as he drifted off to sleep on the lumpy old sofa, just where his voice would take him, what adventures the future held, hoped that it was something that paid better but that too would come with time. He fell asleep, smiling.

CHAPTER ONE

June, 2006

Cat checked the already perfect wardrobe again, not leaving anything to chance. The band would be arriving soon for makeup, styling and to change into their suits. Six suits and shirts for each of them thought they didn’t need that many but it was best to be prepared, plus the suitable accessories, each clearly marked with a large sign above the hangers on the rack. Now if she could just convince Urs to switch to more suitable shoes. His usual white ones just didn’t cut it.

She smiled as she thought that perhaps she should let it slide. She was new to the position, taking over from her Uncle Claude who had found that the constant traveling was too hard on his aging system. Cat had worked with him before so she was the obvious choice to replace him on the tour. The pace would be strenuous but not nearly the intense controlled chaos of her last job, assistant to the head of the costume department at the Academy of Theatrical Arts, so she agreed to take his place, temporarily.

As she worked her way through the rack she caught sight of herself in one of the many full-length mirrors in the dressing room. She had no false pride in herself, perhaps far too little since she was brutally honest when passing judgment, felt no need to be diplomatic with her own ego.

She was short, only 5 foot 3inches in flat feet, and totally out of proportion, her legs too long, bust far too large for her tiny waist, square shoulders like a man and her body was way too muscular for a woman due to her love of roller-blading and Tai Chi. Her only redeeming features, as far as she was concerned was a flawless, slightly olive complexion, wide emerald green cat’s eyes and long wavy chestnut hair that sparkled with red and gold highlights in the sun. Not that it would matter here since she had it pulled back into a severe braid that doubled back on itself.

One of the strict rules Uncle Claude had always stressed was that one should never become ‘involved’ with the stars they dressed and cared for. Easy for him since he was older, slightly paunchy and happily married. For Cat it once, long ago, had been a problem. Now she hit on the subterfuge of dressing dowdy, preferring to keep herself insulated from any entanglements with clients or anyone for that matter. Though in her private life she dressed in well fitted clothing that enhanced her looks and felt comfortable, at work her clothing was always baggy, ill fitting jeans and sloppy sweat shirts or in the warmer weather loose men’s shirts with the sleeves rolled back and always laceless running shoes, sensible since she was usually rushing to get something done.

Today was to be the first day of Cat’s new position and she was mildly nervous. She had worked with the makeup people before and with some of the crew but never with this group of performers, though of course she knew of them, fairly well, since she was herself a huge fan. Il Divo, the crossover group that sang what the media called pop-opera, four mid thirties men with the voices of angels, who sang classics as well as pop but in several languages and with an operatic twist. This was their first World Tour and it was going extremely well, the public loved them and clamored for more, each of the venues sold out for months in advance.

The door opened and 2 of the stylists/makeup people came in.

“Hi Cat….so Claude did send you in his place. He said that he might. I think all this traveling was getting to him.” Wendy, an old friend from London, smiled at Cat as she laid out her equipment in front of the mirrors and turned on the lights around them.

“Well he isn’t getting any younger. We try to get him to slow down but you know how stubborn he can be.” Cat noticed that Wendy was shrugging her shoulders and seemed to have a pain in her neck. “What’ve you done to your neck? You look in pain.”

Wendy laughed and shrugged. “Don’t know…it’s more my shoulders ….maybe I slept wrong…anyway it was sore when I got up this morning and hasn’t improved any.”

Cat pulled one of the chairs out and pointed to it. “Sit. The guys aren’t here yet so maybe I can ease it a bit.”

Susan, the other stylist, laughed and begged to be next and Cat laughed as she began to massage Wendy’s neck and shoulders in lazy circles that deepened as the skin warmed.

She closed her eyes and felt the muscles under the skin, murmuring to Wendy. “What did you lift yesterday that was too heavy for you? I can feel the stress on this muscle right here,” and she gently massaged the area. “It isn’t happy with you, girl. You need a nice strong man to fetch and carry for you. For now, I think this will help.” She raised Wendy’s arm and curling her arm around to the front and then behind her neck gave the girl a sharp tug, went back to massaging the shoulder, moving on to Wendy’s neck. She stroked her fingers into the dimple at the back of each ear and applied pressure for a few seconds, then again, and a third time. After a few more minutes of gently massaging her scalp in circles from back to front, she opened her eyes and said, “How’s that feel now?”

“Wonderful…you haven’t lost your touch, Cat. Thank you.”

Wendy stood and looked much more at ease as she faced Cat then laughed.

“Oops, caught in the act,” she said and indicated the doorway were Urs and David lounged watching.

“Hi guys,” Susie said. “Where’s my two?”

“Coming,” David said as he strolled into the room. “Urs and I were in the first van. You alright Wendy?”

She smiled at the big American. “Yeah I am now. Guys this is Cat, Claude’s niece. She’s the new wardrobe lady and a great hand at massages if you ever need one.”

Cat held her hand out to each of them in turn and introduced herself. “Cat Gilbert, happy to meet you Mr. Miller, Mr. Buhler. Let me know if there is anything you need or anything you want switched. I’m looking forward to the rest of the tour.”

“First of all, he’s David and I’m Urs….we don’t like to be too formal. Is Cat a nickname, short for Catherine?”

She smiled at the usual question. “No, it’s a result of a strange mother who had a fascination with green eyed cats. They were going to name me something else but when my eyes changed from blue to this bright green….well you get the picture.”

Cat was friendly but impersonal as she spoke to the men but inwardly she felt a disturbing heat. They were much better looking in person than she had expected.

David, a tenor, was tall, at 6’3” the tallest of the group, spiky sandy colored hair and the open, American look of the boy next door. He was like a big friendly teddy bear and Cat knew instinctively that she would find him easy to like.

Urs was also a tenor, what is called a baritenor in the rare chance that one was found. Swiss and slightly withdrawn or shy, he was the one of the group that needed special tailoring since he was a workout fanatic and had developed a sculpted chest and upper arms. He wasn’t nearly as easy to read, Cat found, his hazel eyes, direct and probing but giving nothing away.

Carlos and Seb arrived then and they all began to get stripped to skin to have their makeup and hair done, wearing shirts not a great idea while this was going on. Cat moved out of the way, took their shirts and placed them, neatly folded, on their small gym bags, while she looked over her last 2 charges.

Carlos, was the baritone of the group and from Spain, his looks the smoldering Latin Lover that so many women found attractive. At 5’11 he was about the same as Urs and Seb and slightly older than the others at 38. Cat knew that during performances his deep rich voice quite often carried the melody of the tracks near the operatic finale of the music while the others sang harmony. He would be one to steer clear of since with his Latin ego he would likely try to woo every woman who came in range.

Seb she found very interesting. Sebastien was the only self taught musician and before coming to Il Divo had a blossoming pop career. From France and with a quiet French charm he reminded her of a friendly big puppy, wanting affection more than romance.

Wendy was working on David but called Cat over.

“Babe, Urs has a splitting headache. Could you…?”

Cat hesitated, but she looked at him and could see the pain in his eyes.

“Would you like me to try, Mr. Buhler?”

“Only if you’ll agree to call me Urs,” he said. She laughed and pronounced it the way he had, rolling the ‘R’ slightly….. “Urrrs”.

She walked over to him and gently pushed him back in the chair. “Where does it feel like the pain is centered?” He indicated his temples, both sides. “Sit with your back to me, with your feet flat on the floor and your hands resting on your thighs, please,” she said matter-of-factly. He did and she stood behind him and reached to his head, letting her fingers delve into his soft, curly, shoulder length hair. For just a moment she forgot to breathe, the warmth of him under her hands sending a tingling through her body.

‘Whoa girl,’ she said silently to herself. ‘No lusting after the pretty boys.’

Cat closed her eyes, and massaged his scalp gently, pulling his head close to rest against her chest. She could feel the tension, the way it crept up the back of his head and centered in his brow, radiating to the temples. Gently she tilted his head forward further pressing her fingers firmly into the cords of his neck and then shoulders, returning to slowly move up the back of his head, repeated the process twice more then moved across the top and tilted his head back so his face was looking directly at hers as she gently caressed his brow and cheeks, fluttered across his eyes and back to his brow to rest there gently. Cat took large hands-full of his thick hair in her fingers, kept her knuckles lightly against his skull and tugged gently, moved on to do it again, and again until she had covered his whole head, then moved on to cup his head with her left hand and press first on one side then the other on the occipital hollows at the base of his skull. She moved to the front now, nudging his knees apart so she could reach his head, stroked across his brow to the dimples below his ears and pressed firmly, returned and repeated, more gently each time.

She cupped his face with her hands, ran her thumbs up his brow into his hair with gentle pressure, opened her eyes and stared unsmiling into his, for a moment thinking she might drown in the hazel/amber depths.

“Better?” she asked and knew it was. The pain was gone from his eyes which now were just full of wonder.

“You know it is. Thank you. I don’t understand but thank you.”

Cat stepped back evading his hands that were coming up to touch her waist and looked over to find that Wendy was ready for him now.

“No thanks necessary…just part of the service, sir.”

“Don’t call me sir….you play guitar, don’t you? I could feel the slight calluses on your right hand fingertips. And what is that scent you wear…so subtle, jasmine….. and chocolate.”

“A bit of guitar, nothing too special.” She glared at Wendy who had overheard and snorted. “And I wear Angel, by Thierry Muegler, mostly because it has a chocolate base. I love chocolate.”

She turned away from him and went to get David’s first outfit off the rack while Wendy used the straightening iron to take the curls out of his hair….. a criminal act she thought, but she had no voice in his hair style.

The wardrobe changes were all ready and while they were on stage she went into the wings to watch and listen, her first live performance and she was entranced. Live they were even better than on the CD’s she had and played often. Though they were new at touring and this type of stage performances they had developed a presence that was hypnotic, displayed no sign of the nerves often found in other new performers…but then they weren’t new to the business, just to this genre. She was impressed with how they fed off of the audience reaction, the sign of a true professional who truly enjoyed their work. And the audience loved them. She scurried back to the dressing room when she knew that the break was coming, listened to their excited talk as they changed and sipped on refreshments, put up with the fiddling the girls did with their hair and makeup and grinned at her as they went back out for the second half.

They established a routine quickly and found that the transition of wardrobe master to wardrobe mistress was made seamlessly. As an added bonus Cat was always willing to ease headaches or tension with a soothing massage and soon the guys felt easy asking for her assistance. She relaxed her rules a bit with most of the band, becoming friends with Carlos, Seb and David easily but found that Urs disturbed her and she couldn’t relax in his company.

And he didn’t make it easy for her. She often looked up to find him watching her, silent and broody, sometimes giving her a soft half smile when she caught him, once even crossing the room and stroking his hand across her cheek for no apparent reason. There seemed to be no way to avoid him and she tried to be cool and indifferent towards him but that only seemed to pique his interest more. The rest of the guys turned out like she had expected and she soon was friendly with them, found it easy to joke and tease them, still wouldn’t join them after hours but had no problem being pleasant.

There was lots to do to keep her busy though and she quickly found that except for tending to scatter their casual clothing about the dressing room the 4 men were fairly neat, easy to take care of. They treated all the crew equally, not like some of the snobby performers who felt that they were STARS and everyone else merely servants. The Il Divo group tended to stick together, sometimes going out to clubs after performances with some of the crew, having dinners with them at times, some of them going to the gym when they could with Urs who tended to work out every chance he got.

For herself Cat found time to work out with her Tai Chi routines and some Ballet, the hardest part was finding space to do so when no one was around so she often just hung out in her room, quietly playing her guitar or working on some arrangements she had been doing, hoping that she would find a jazz singer who would be interested. It was quiet and lonely, but the way she preferred her life. Even back in London at the Academy she had kept to her self, formed no friendships that over lapped from work to private life.

When they got to Houston the weather was so incredibly hot for June that it was a relief to go to the venue and enjoy the air conditioning. Cat took the opportunity to practice her Ballet/Tai chi moves on the dark stage in the empty venue, with only the security light on.

Steve, the production manager, found her there as he took a short cut across the stage, drawn by curiosity when he heard classical music playing. She was nearly done, the Dvorak playing for her cool down and though she saw him watching she finished the routine.

“Sorry, Steve. It’s so nice and cool here, thought I could get in a workout while no-one was around. Why are you here anyway?”

“Just came to watch my favorite god daughter dance…..” he gave Cat a kiss on the cheek and hugged her. “Sorry I’ve been so busy. How’s the job going?”

“Fine. They’re very easy to take care of…The heat here is the only problem I have.”

“Why don’t you go cool off in the hotel pool? That’s what most of the crew and band are doing and I just may join them if I get my e.mails cleaned up.”

“Maybe,” she replied and then laughed. “Did you forget I can’t swim? Go finish your work. I’ll see you later.”

She dressed in shorts and a loose man’s white shirt over her tank top, donned her helmet and roller blades and bladed down the hall to the stage door, swung her back pack over her shoulders and stepped out into the heat and sunshine. She paused a moment to tighten her wrist guards then, placing her hands on the metal railing vaulted over to land on the pavement and skate away down the alley. Within a few strokes she was sweating, more from the heat than the exercise and decided to aim for speed to create a bit of a cooling breeze.

Traffic was light and she made good time, arriving at the hotel from the side. She could see the outdoor pool from this nearly empty area of the parking lot and stopped to see if any of the musicians she knew were there. Millie was easy to spot, that flaming red mop of hair glowing in the sun, and she saw Marlene and Paolo…and the band.

“Far too many semi-naked people for me,” she thought and skated to the front of the hotel, replaced her roller blades with laceless sneakers and went up to her room. She worked on some blues arrangements for a few hours, showered again and got ready for work.

It was cooler out now and she moved briskly, humming along with her IPod player, this time a selection of classical Sinfonias, as she made the miles pass. Just as she made the turn into the parking lot at the venue, one of her favourites started and she fooled around doing a sort of dance routine to the peppy music until she saw Steve’s van slowing as it made the turn and drew ahead of her. She knew how he hated her to take chances and obstinately decided to scare him, secure in her abilities. With a burst of speed she passed the van, went into a racer’s crouch and shot up the delivery ramp to fly off the end, do a three-spin while airborne and land perfectly, ahead of the van at the stage entrance, doing gentle circles to slow herself down.

Steve got out of the van, the second one just pulling up beside him, and he stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at her as she grinned and slipped out of her blades, put her sneakers on and bolted inside the building.

Her hair was still damp from sweat when the band and Steve entered the cool dressing room a few minutes later.

The members of the band looked in confused amusement when Steve caught Cat’s braid in his hand and pulled her back to his chest. She tilted her head to look up at him and they could see she was trying hard not to laugh.

“You did that to scare me didn’t you?”

“Who, me?” she answered and a giggle escaped.

“Yes, you, little Miss Innocent. Promise you won’t do it again.”

“Sorry…can’t do that.”

“CAT!”

“BULLY!”

“PROMISE ME!”

“NEVER!”

Steve started laughing and let her go, she gave him a smile and a quick kiss on the cheek and he left the room laughing.

“What was that about?” David asked but Cat looked at him with big innocent eyes and said “I’ve no idea. You’ll have to ask Steve.” And they could get nothing else out of her.

CHAPTER TWO

Dallas was just as hot as Houston and once again everyone except Cat went to the pool on the off day. That night on the way to the airport Urs asked her casually why she never came to the pool to cool off and she just shrugged and said “I never learned how to swim,” and went back to the book she was pretending to read, something she had found that stopped people from trying to have a conversation with her.

A few minutes into the flight it didn’t stop Carlos from coming to her and asking if she had any advice for Seb. He had a stomach ache, didn’t know why, could Cat do anything?

“Maybe,” she said with concern and unclipped her seat belt to follow Carlos down the aisle.

Seb was indeed suffering and she knelt in front of him to take his wrist and check his heart rate, stood to feel his damp forehead and asked Carlos to recline the seat back as far as it would go. She leaned over Seb and spoke softly to him, got a blush and nod of the head in response, then stood for a minute thinking.

Quietly she spoke to him again. “Sebbie, I need to check out something. Would you put your finger on your navel, please…..Please, I know it sounds silly but do it.” He did and she quickly pushed his hand out of the way to put her finger on the spot. With her left hand she felt his leg until she found the hip bone and ran her right finger towards the left, stopping half way.

“Tell me if this hurts.” Swiftly she pushed three fingers of her right hand into his stomach for a few inches then let go quickly, testing for rebound pain.

Seb told her it felt uncomfortable, nothing more.

“Good, then we can probably rule out appendix. Let me try something and in the mean time, Carlos, if you look in my bag you’ll find some Organic Yogurt and a spoon. When I’m done with his legs I want Seb to eat it before he falls asleep.”

She knelt at Seb’s feet and ran her hands up his pant legs to his ankles, searched for and found the pain points she wanted and applied alternating pressure. Three minutes and Seb sat forward a bit. “It’s gone. The ache is gone.”

“Of course it is. Too much stress and bad food. I want you to eat this, it will settle your tummy. You have about 2 minutes before you’re going to crash.”

Seb ate the yogurt but shook his head saying he wasn’t even tired but Cat just smiled and put her hand gently on his shoulder, pressing deep into the nerve endings.

“You sure?” she said and watched as his eyes began to droop. Another minute and he was asleep and Cat went back to her seat.

Steve caught her hand as she passed him and mouthed ’Thank you’ He was the only one of the passengers who had been close enough to see what she had done with Seb, except possibly Urs who sat across the aisle and was privy to everything. She didn’t meet Urs eyes as she returned to her seat and rested, holistic healing sometimes leaving her in discomfort and she had learned over the years to rest afterward.

Seb was fine when he woke and came to sit with Cat for the remainder of the flight. Before he sat he kissed her on the cheek and smiled as he said “Merci, mon Petite Chat.”

“How do you know about this stuff? It’s almost like witchcraft.”

Cat laughed and put her book in her huge tote bag. “I’ve always been interested in hands on healing, even as a kid, so I read everything I could find, took classes. I even studied with the monks in Nepal, with Shamans in the Western U.S., with some Wiccans in Mexico and Brazil, sifted through everything I learned and I use what works for me. I’m actually a licensed and internationally registered medic and when it’s indicated, when I can’t do anything for the person, I send them to a medical doctor.”

“And how did you put me to sleep? Was that a knock out pinch or what?”

Cat laughed, a pure delighted giggle that had others looking at her and smiling. The times when Cat had actually let herself go enough to laugh like that were few.

“No, Frenchie. I just activated a nerve that suggested to your brain that you were tired. If you had fought it you would have stayed awake.” She took his hand and smiled at him. “It’s all psychological. I had already suggested to you that you would go to sleep, you trusted me because I helped get rid of your pain…so you slept. No magic, no hypnosis.”

He laughed at himself. “I find the whole subject fascinating. I’m going to try to find some books about it and study up.”

“When we get back to London, I have quite a few and can loan you some, if you’re still interested.”

“Do you live in London?”

“Yes, I’m still at home. I never felt the need to have a place of my own, maybe because the one I have with Claude and Celeste has everything I need.”

“Is Celeste French, that’s a French name,” he asked.

Cat smiled as she thought about Aunt Celeste. “Yes, she is. She taught me French and we often speak it to tease Uncle Claude. He has no ear for languages, always says he’s lucky to speak decent English. He met Celeste on a visit to Paris with a group. She was a makeup artist and he chased her until she let him catch her. They’re very dear to me.”

“So you do speak a few languages. I thought so. You looked like you understood what was being said when we were discussing how to translate that Verdi piece. Do you speak Spanish? I could use some help, Carlos isn’t very patient with me.”

“I thought Urs was teaching you German…I’m sure I heard him with you the other day.”

“He is and he’s very patient. I like to learn new things. And with our tracks the more languages I have the better.”

Cat laughed. “Maybe with the Asian tour coming up you should let me teach you Chinese. I don’t think any of the others can.”

Seb looked at her in surprise. “How many languages do you speak, Cat?”

For a moment she looked embarrassed and was upset with herself for telling too much of her private life. She liked Seb and felt comfortable with him so she just smiled.

“A few…once you master three, they say the rest are easy.”

The flight attendant announced that they would be arriving in Las Vegas shortly and advised everyone to return to their seats.

Seb returned to his seat and Cat got her guitar out of the overhead rack, checked that she had everything in her bag and got ready to arrive.

She rushed a bit as the plane taxied and the passengers headed for the exits. It was her responsibility to see that the wardrobe arrived and made it to the Hotel in good shape and she wanted to waste no time. As she passed Seb, he caught her hand and thanked her again. She grinned at him and answered in Spanish.

“Da nada, ‘migo. Quiza, no mas alimento peligroso por ti.”

She scurried off the plane before he could figure out an answer and heard Carlos laughing behind her.

The Mandalay Bay had pulled out all the stops for Il Divo. The venue was superb, the facilities the finest and even the meals for the performers were to be comped.

Cat ignored the tables and the slot machines, went back stage and checked the wardrobe, found everything to be perfect, checked to see if the boys had left her any laundry, found none and then went to her room. She was still tired from the healing but restless too and decided to rest in the sun by the pool. She felt that all the others would probably go to the gaming rooms and with sunglasses on and her hair covered with a scarf no one would recognize her anyway.

Most of the lounges were occupied when she entered the pool area, showed her room key-card to the attendant and found a single lounge away from all the action.

It wasn’t long before she began to recognize some of the faces arriving and settling in clusters in the extra lounges the pool attendants put out….some of the regular band, Wendy and Susie, and all four Divos. She scrunched down with her book, not wanting to be seen but it was futile for Wendy made a bee line for her even though Cat shook her head.

“With that pale skin you’re going to burn, girl. Got any sunblock?”

Cat gave up and smiled at the bubbly stylist.

“Didn’t even think of it….maybe I’ll just go in…”

“Nonsense….here I’ll put some on but if you go in the water we’ll need to do it again.”

“No problem…I can’t swim so I won’t be going in.”

“It’s a good thing…with that killer body none of the guys would pay any attention to the rest of us.” Wendy looked at her friend with a grin and Cat felt a bit embarassed, thinking perhaps she should have opted for a plain black one piece instead of the bright green printed bikini she had worn.

Wendy put cream on Cat’s back, gave her some in her hand to do her face and arms and another hand full to do her legs, back and front.

As the stylist got ready to rejoin her friends, Cat caught her arm.

“Wen, please don’t mention to the others that I’m over here if they haven’t recognized me. I’d rather not have the band see me in this skimpy suit….”

Wendy looked at her with a long suffering smile. “Cat you really have to come out of your shell. They really are nice guys, not a lech among them.”

She lasted another 20 minutes, nervously watching out of the corner of her eye as the band and a number of attractive females played in the water, lay about on mats and chatted, greasing each other often, laughing, living a normal life. It was too much and she put her shirt on, gathered her belongings and, taking a circuitous route, started to leave the pool area to go back to her room.

Just as Cat was passing the deep end of the pool a couple of young men who had been fooling around with a Frisbee made a wild throw and one of them leapt for the disc, colliding with Cat and knocking her into the water, following right behind her.

As Cat flew through the air she heard a scream, then the water closed over her head and she felt panic set in. Somehow her foot got tangled in her shoulder bag and though she kicked and tried to free herself it was impossible. Hands clutched at her and she felt herself being pulled through the water, wanted to breathe, was desperate to breathe, began to open her mouth to gulp in something, anything to ease the pain in her chest and her head broke the surface of the water just in time. She gulped in air, swallowed water and choked, drew another breath and clutched blindly at the person who held her.

“Don’t fight him, Cat…relax,” she recognized David’s voice behind her but still in panic mode she kicked again as something touched her foot, connected with David as he freed her from the tangled bag and came back up grinning to swim along side her as someone lay a strong arm around her neck and towed her to the edge. She couldn’t see him but she knew it was Urs, even before he stopped swimming and rested his hand on the edge, she knew.

“Raise your arms up, Cat….Seb will lift you up.” His voice was soft, calming.

His arm had slipped around her now, holding her against his body and she fought the urge to struggle and get away from him, from the feeling of his body in a clinging wet suit brushing against her legs and the muscular arm that held her so firmly that her chest was squashed against his. She raised her arms up, saw Seb leaning over to take her hands and in a flash she was airborne, clearing the edge, grasped around the waist by Carlos and deposited in a nearby lounge chair.

The young man who had knocked her in the pool came over and apologized profusely, and she tried to make light of the whole thing, smiled at him and said it was her own fault…a non-swimmer, she had no business being at the pool.

For someone who didn’t like attention the next few minutes were torture.

Most of the bathers and the pool guy clustered around, retrieving her towel and sunglasses, her bag and contents, until the Divos took charge and chased them all away.

“You alright, Cat?” Urs asked as he crouched beside her.

“Fine. Thank you for pulling me out. I really must learn how to swim someday.”

He grinned at her. “I’d be happy to teach you. I’m sure we’re going to have more of this hot weather and pools at all the hotels.”

Cat shuddered at the thought of having him that close, touching her even.

“Thanks, but you have enough ladies to take care of with all the fans hanging on your every word.” She knew it was rude but had to discourage him. She stood and gathered up her soggy things, trying not to look at the hurt expression on Urs’ face as she left the area quickly.

CHAPTER THREE

Somehow the weeks passed without any further incidents. Cat stayed away from the pools in the hotels, searched for and found a couple of places to drop in and practice her Capoiera, worked out quietly very late at night and managed to stay away from Urs as much as possible.

She was cross with herself for being so attracted to him…there was no logical reason for it. He was a performer, for God’s sake, not someone she could ever be serious about…and anyway she didn’t want a romantic relationship, not now, maybe not ever. The thought of being forced to have sex with someone colored her every decision….. after what had happened 6 years before she was more than just a little determined to spend her life celibate. At least she had been before meeting a certain intriguing Swiss man in person.

Every day that it was possible she roller bladed to the venue and back, toured around the cities when there was time and did her job, efficiently, quietly, impersonally.

One bright spot in the daily routine had been meeting Geraldine when she made a quick four day visit to Carlos. He had been over-joyed at the surprise and Cat found that the bubbly, beautiful woman was charming, impossible not to like. Carlos was so clearly in love with her, despite the sometimes tumultuous relationship and Gerry worshiped him but accepted no less than complete devotion on his part.

Gerry had watched the way Cat worked so hard at limiting the contact she had with Urs and how different it was from the ease she showed with the other men of the band. She was polite but distant, never allowed herself to be too close unless her work demanded it, never teased or joked. When they were alone in the suite the first night she mentioned this strange behavior to Carlos, wondering if he had been astute enough to notice it as well.

“Of course, Querida. I do not know what he has done to anger the little one…Urs is always so proper, so withdrawn when it comes to the women. No off color comments, no flirting, in fact I thought he would die of embarrassment when that woman tried to touch him inappropriately in Phoenix. At times our little Gata seems almost frightened of him and this I do not understand.”

“She is not afraid of our Urs, Carlito. She is afraid of the FEELINGS she has for him and this is worse for it is something she will have to over-come herself.”

Carlos pulled her into his arms and began exploring the tender skin of her neck.

“And you, my angel, are you afraid?”

“Only of having to leave you again, Carlito,” she murmured and began pulling at his jeans to remove them. Soon all thoughts of Cat and Urs, of anyone other than the lover offering remembered bliss was all either could think of.

**

Cat was sorry to see her leave, comforted Carlos in a sisterly fashion after he returned from the airport, sorry for herself as well, for in Gerry she had quickly found some-one her own age that she knew it would be possible to turn to with problems…. Especially the one that plagued her now, this unwanted attraction she had and couldn’t easily control.

**

The news from London was still not good. Cat was eager to get out of the commitment she had made to do Claude’s job. Even though she was able to keep herself separate from the singers during her private time, the daily exposure to Urs was playing on her nerves. She fought the feelings that he produced in her with just a glance, fitting his clothing to his long, lean body was becoming nearly painful.

Most days she tried to wear herself out completely so she wouldn’t add fuel to an already well fanned flame but of course that meant that the nightmares started again and her sleep was disturbed. It was a vicious circle and the only way out was for Claude to come back to work. Her e/mail to check on his health was not what she wanted to hear. He was not well enough to take the traveling, was improving but not ready yet.

**

One bit of good news that she did have was in her search for an Indian Motorcycle for parts. Cat had been riding since she was a young teen, first behind Claude on his old Harley, then when she got older, on the Indian which had belonged to her father.

The bike had been Granda Gilbert’s during WW2 and passed on to his son, then after the accident which took her parents, on to Cat. Now it badly needed a few parts replaced and she wanted to remain authentic and had been searching for nearly a year. Finally she received an e/mail about a possibility in San Diego, a city they would be going to shortly.

The news excited her and she was grinning like a fool when she stepped off the elevator to go in the small dining room of the hotel for lunch. David and Seb were just sitting down at a table when she entered and motioned her over. HE wasn’t with them so she walked over and accepted their invitation, sitting at the table and laughing when they asked her why she was so up.

“I’ve been trying to get parts for my Da’s bike for ages and maybe, just maybe I’ve found them…in San Diego. I can’t wait to get there and check it out.”

David grinned at her. “It doesn’t surprise me that someone in your family likes bikes,” he said. “I’ve seen you practically drool over some that we’ve seen on the road.”

Cat couldn’t think of a way around telling him that her father was gone, not without seeming rude so she just smiled sadly and said it.

“Actually, the bike is mine, Davey. Da left it to me. I haven’t been able to ride it for a year now.”

As she knew they would be, both David and Seb were sorry for her loss, David even more so for his statement.

“Cat, I’m so sorry, I…”

She raised her hand to stop him and smiled again. “It’s alright….you couldn’t have known and it was so long ago…I don’t even really remember Da or Mama…I was only 3 at the time. I grew up with my godfather’s friends and had a great life with them.”

They had just ordered breakfast from the blushing waitress who found writing an almost impossible task when faced with the charms and startling eyes of Sebastien. David was teasing him and Cat was laughing when Urs arrived at the table, pulled out the chair next to Cat and sat down with a cheerful ‘Good Morning’ to all.

He was freshly showered, likely after the run she knew he took each morning, his long hair was wet but beginning to curl wildly as it dried. Because of his still healing eyes from Laser Surgery he had put on sun glasses to combat the bright morning sunlight streaming in the windows, so she couldn’t see his eyes but when he looked in her direction his mouth curled in a lazy smile.

“Well, Good Morning, Kitty…You’re slipping this morning…I actually got within 10 feet of you without you running for cover.”

He knew just how to push her buttons! She glared at him and deliberately turned to chat with Seb on her other side, flushing scarlet when she heard him laugh lightly behind her.

The waitress came back, even more flustered now that the third Divo was at the table and took his order, almost the identical breakfast to what Cat was having: Mueslix, fruit, juice and 1% milk….Urs also had rye toast.

Fortunately Carlos came to join them and as always, he took over the flow of conversation. Carlos was such a presence that Cat thought for sure this time the waitress was going to faint but she struggled on and took his order, walking back to the kitchen with a dazed look, holding the hand Carlos had kissed as if it were broken.

Cat giggled and shook her finger at him.

“You do that on purpose, you cheeky Spaniard. Now how is that poor girl supposed to get through the rest of her shift.”

“Maybe you should go help her Cat…she might need a medic.” Seb laughed as he teased her.

David picked up on the word immediately but Urs did also and turned to her.

“Medic? I didn’t know you were a medic as well as a magician with those fingers of yours.” She was always a little defensive with him and coolly answered.

“No reason that you should know. There’s actually a lot about me that I like to keep private.”

David hadn’t heard all of her quiet words and asked her if it was a part time thing.

“No, Davey,” she said with a sigh. “This is…I’m just doing it to help Claude out. I’m on sick leave from my regular job…a medic with an International Search and Rescue Organization called Rapid UK. I really dislike being idle so I was working for Claude in wardrobe at the Academy, quit there to come on the tour.”

“Sick Leave??? Are you ill?” Carlos asked just as their orders came and put off needing to answer…but only for a moment. When the waitress was gone Urs reminded her of Carlos question.

“Are you ill? Isn’t the pace of the tour a little hard on someone who is sick?”

She gritted her teeth, began pouring milk on her Mueslix and answered.

“I’m not sick anymore…. recovering from another bout of Malaria, that’s all…and the pace of the tour is quite different from what I’m used to at disasters.”

Cat finished breakfast as soon as she could without seeming rude and excused herself, went up to her room to clean her teeth, gathered up Gertrude, her blades and small back pack and headed out. The gym where she could practice her Capoeira was only about 2 miles away and blading there would be a great warm up.

**
The sun had passed far enough beyond the windows to allow Urs to take off his glasses now and he looked up to see all three of the Divos staring at him.

“What?” he said with genuine surprise.

David started to grin and nodded his head.

“You’ve got a thing for Cat…that’s what it is. I couldn’t figure out why she avoids you like the plague and why you always try to wind her up. You’ve got a thing for her.”

“She’s a nice girl, Swiss boy. Don’t you hurt her,” Carlos warned, only half joking.

Urs grinned and admitted that she intrigued him. “She likes me, I can feel it, but she’s fighting it, tooth and nail. I’m trying to wear her down, but, man is she tough.”

“Take her out to dinner, just the two of you,” Seb contributed.

“Ja, and how do I get her to stand still long enough to ask her?”

“That could be a problem,” David said with a grin.

CHAPTER FOUR

The second time she gave Urs a massage was nearly two weeks later and was a little more complicated than a simple headache.
When the knock came on her door she couldn’t imagine who it would be but peeked out the spy hole to find Urs leaning against the door. For a moment she hesitated since she wasn’t really dressed, had already changed into a green satin bed-shirt and briefs and her hair was down, but he looked up and she recognized the pain in his eyes.

“Have you had an accident?” she asked when she opened the door and saw that he was hurting, bad, bent over a bit and there was a sheen of perspiration across his forehead.

“Slipped on a step and put my back out. Can you try to work your magic on it? Please, Cat, I know you don’t like me but I’m really hurting.”

“Come in, and don’t talk rubbish. What makes you think I don’t like you?”

She took him by the hand, slipped his shirt off and helped him lay on her bed, face down, trying to control her rapid breathing at the sight of his sculpted chest and arms, the dark curly hair that veed to the waist of his jeans and lay silky along his lower arms. Even without the attraction she felt he was one gorgeous specimen of man.

Very gently she ran her hands over his long back, touching the solid muscles one by one, feathering her hands along his sides and up to his shoulders, then back down his spine, slowly. She watched as he shivered and smiled to herself, thinking that perhaps the Swiss tenor was more sensitive than she had thought.

“I have to pull your jeans down just a bit, is that alright?”

“Sure, let me up so I can do it.”

“No, I can manage…. Lie still.”

Cat took a deep breath and reached under his body to find the dome of his jeans, worked the zipper down and bringing her hands back out, inched his jeans and shorts down to the small of his back. She oiled her hands lightly and ran them over the newly exposed skin and found the spot she was looking for, worked it gently, then with more pressure, then knelt on the bed.

“I need to get closer,” she said. “There’s a great deal of length to you and I can’t reach it properly from here.” Carefully she straddled him and sat on his bottom, placing her strong hands on his back and beginning to knead the muscles. She worked up his back to his shoulders, along his arms and back down, laying stretched out on him as she worked, her hair falling like a curtain over his body, not thinking of anything except the muscles under her hands.

For more than a half hour she worked steadily, varying the techniques, working from bottom to top, top to bottom, raising his soft hair to gently work the muscles at the back of his head and neck, speaking little, asking him to turn his face to the other side, moving his bent arms to a higher position, kneading the muscles of his shoulders and upper arms, then down to his lower back and around his waist. His skin warmed under her hands, the light tan deepening with a fresh influx of blood, the referred pain easing and the definition of his muscles no longer twisted, now firm and pliant.

He lay under her hands, totally relaxed and trusting, sighed once when she finished with his neck and smoothed his hair back down. One last time she skimmed her hands lightly over his back, sensing that the pain was eased, ending gently now that she knew the knot was gone completely. She stretched her cramped legs and slid from the bed.

“That should make you feel better. You had a bundle of nerves that were twisted. It took a while to ease them back into place and to soothe the pain. How do you feel? You can get up now.”

He raised up slightly on his elbows and grinned at her, though he did have to the decency to be a little flushed with embarrassment.

“My back feels great but I can’t get up just yet. After the pain went I found what you were doing very…erotic. Afraid I need a minute or so to…relax.”

Cat felt her face grow hot and she excused herself to go in the washroom. She washed her flushed face and stared at herself in the mirror. ‘What kind of fool are you, woman? A half naked man in your room and you dressed in thin night clothes and you sit on his butt. E-gods, if you get out of this one, you’ll be lucky.’

She stayed in the washroom as long as politely possible then returned to the other room. Urs was off the bed now, had pulled his shirt on and done up his jeans. Cat stepped past him to open the door and he caught her by the arm, pulling her against him, making her gasp in fear.

“Why do you pretend to be something you’re not? Why the severe hairstyle and the baggy clothes? I felt your body against mine. You’re tiny, weigh next to nothing. You’re attractive, even beautiful when you let yourself be. And now I see fear in your eyes. For god’s sake Cat, you must know I would never hurt you. Why do you treat me like I’m poison?”

Cat sighed but didn’t struggle. With her honed martial arts skills she knew she was in no danger but then again she had no desire to hurt him, not Urs. She looked at his eyes and saw only hurt and confusion, not the lust she had been so afraid of.

“I have a rule of never getting involved with a client. If you think I treat you badly, I’m sorry. I find you a very attractive, sensitive man and I don’t want to get too close.” She relaxed against him and lay her hand on his chest. “It would be so easy to fall in love with you….so easy. But it wouldn’t be good for either of us.” She looked at him with sadness and moved away.

“I’m very tired, Urs and you should get some rest. Good night.” She opened the door and waited for him to leave.

He leaned on the door and pushed it almost closed, at the same time cradling her against him. “I don’t know who hurt you, Cat but I’d like to get my hands on him for a few minutes. There’s an attraction between us and I for one don’t intend to ignore it forever. But I can be patient. I desperately want to be closer to you, to love you but not until you’re ready. You’ll have to tell me….don’t wait too long.”

He dropped his mouth to caress hers and she moaned as he touched her lips with his tongue. Encouraged, he explored the velvet inside of her mouth, teasing the sensitive inner surface of her lips, molding her body against his as she submitted to him. Her hands came up to twine in his hair and she returned his passion, gasping when his hands slid under her nightshirt to caress her soft skin. His hands roamed her body, opened the front closing of her bra and tenderly touched her breasts, the nipples already swollen with arousal and he broke the kiss to rest his eager mouth first on one then the other as she moaned under his hands.

Reluctantly he broke the contact and moved away from her, somehow finding the strength for control as he opened the door.

He knew that he could have gone further now, right this moment if he pushed it but that wasn’t what he wanted. She had to come to him freely, not in a confused state that left no room for reason until it was too late and not with the fear he could still see in her eyes. He stepped out and closed the door firmly.

CHAPTER FIVE


Cat tried hard to be pleasant to Urs after that night and found that it wasn’t nearly as difficult as she thought, except for this annoying habit he had of touching her when no one was around, sometimes taking her hand or draping his long arm around her shoulders even when they were in a group, and the way he calmly pulled her into his arms to thoroughly kiss her when she least expected it. Those moments, if she were to be honest with herself, were so intensely enjoyable that if a day passed without feeling his eager mouth on hers she felt desolate.

She also found, now that she gave him a chance, that he was naturally quiet and introspective but had a wry sense of humor that constantly amused her and she often found herself laughing at something he had said or done.

They flitted from one venue to the other, the occasional day off in between concerts when usually all the members of the tour were free to do as they pleased.

Cat chose to do things separate from the others, still not really ready to socialize except in the safety of a crowd. She bladed nearly every day, back and forth to the venues, timing it usually to arrive well before the vans with the band or Steve who would lecture her again and she didn’t want that.

A few times Cat had been asked to relieve someone’s pain and she willingly obliged, David, one of the regular crew, even Steve once. A few times she played with the orchestra when they finished their practice for the concert and had an informal jam session, her favorite, the times when they played in the style of Waldo de Los Rios, the maestro who led his orchestra in classics with a modern twist, another cross over group.

On one occasion they were playing Mozart Forte when she looked up from her guitar and noticed that the band had come into the venue and were watching and listening to the music. She grinned at them from her place as first chair and went back to the challenging part, playing it flawlessly, feeling the music as she so often had in the past. Before there was even a chance to breathe the violins went into the opening for ‘Eine Kleine Nachtmusik’ and carried Cat along with them. First chair was supposed to rise and set the tempo for the piece and she did it automatically, earning smiles from the violins as the music swelled.

“One more, Cat, then we have to leave…your choice,” Marlene, second violin, called out and Cat began the soft, plaintive intro for Brahms, Sinfonia in F Major. It was one of her favorites, the soft music sad somehow, especially when the cello and oboe played off each other. It required a mezzo for the harmony in the last 8 bars but Millie knew the part and sang it. Before they could leave however, the horns burst into Mendelssohn’s ‘Italiana’ and the rest followed. Cat loved it when this happened, the musicians so caught up in making music that all else was forgotten. She laughed lightly to herself thinking how fickle she was….each track they did was her favourite…until the next one came along. When this track finished she rose and lay her guitar carefully back in the case, waved to the departing musicians and called out Thank you and went back to work.

The guys had gone to the photo shoot she knew had been scheduled and now she had the dressing room all to herself. She checked the rack of clothing for the concert, found a loose button on one of Seb’s shirts and fixed it, steamed some wrinkles out of Carlos second pair of trousers, in general just tidied up some details. Their laundry was back and she sorted it into four stacks with a small hand written note on the top. She hummed as she worked, some show tunes that she liked, Abba and ALW and finally after everything was to her expectations took Gertrude out of the case again. The band probably wouldn’t arrive again for another hour and she was trying to remember a Beethoven Sinfonia, kept getting lost in the transition.

She played it through, humming the violin score while refreshing herself on the guitar harmony, did it twice until satisfied, then ran through a version of Verdi’s Je Chante Avec Toi Liberte. Seconds after she put Gertrude away the band arrived and asked if she had been playing a CD. She quickly pulled out her copy of Nana Mouskouri and showed it to them, well pleased with her own quick thinking.

Nights were the hardest. It was then that the old memories came back to haunt her, then that she felt the ooze of the culvert and the cracked bleeding feet, the fear that she would be re-captured. She relived the flight from the priest’s home, dressed as a nun, accompanied by two authentic Sisters, the quiet, tense trip to France and how the 3 ‘Sisters’ had been treated with respect by all the officials, the peace and acceptance of the cloistered convent where at first she had been determined to spend the rest of her life. The desperation and loneliness crept over her and she often wept herself to sleep, only to be wakened by nightmares that had begun to occur all too frequently lately.

**

The next day was a free day and everyone had been invited to attend a pool party at Steve’s LA home base. At first Cat wasn’t going to go but the more she thought about it the more she wanted to. Hiding from what she was feeling wouldn’t be productive and with all the people around she could afford to just be herself, safely.

She packed everything she would need in an oversized purse along with brush etc. and zipped her acoustic guitar, Gertrude, into a black case. Her clothes were not what she had been wearing to work daily, instead she dressed as she would normally, casual but classy, high heels and designer jeans and a loose, thin, white eyelet lace top over a tight white silk cami. She left her hair long, brushed into glossy waves that fell down her back. She accessorized with a turquoise and silver belt, matching earrings and a dozen bangles on her wrist of small turquoise links and twisted silver, all crafted for her during one of her stays on the Navajo reservation in New Mexico.

Cat had been to parties at Steve’s before and knew that even though he had a marvelous sound system, the crowd he hung out with were all musical and would bring an assortment of instruments and sometime during the night a jam session would start. That was what she looked forward to more than anything.

Most of the guests had already arrived when her cab pulled up in front of the long, low house. There were a number of cars lining the driveway and people standing about on the terraces and in the rooms as she wound her way through. A waiter passed her with a tray of white or red wine and when he paused she took a glass of white, sipped at it as she continued through the house, out onto the patio. She spotted Steve immediately, he was such a commanding presence that there were always a cluster of people around him.

“Cat! I was hoping you would come soon. We need to get this party livened up. Some of the guys have set up over by the cabana. Could you help them with a few tracks?” He hugged her and kissed her cheek and knew that she couldn’t resist playing with professionals.

Cat laughed and waved at him as she worked her way around the pool and found a bunch of musicians noodling with the mikes turned off. She knew most of them and they teased her while she shed her bag and pulled Gertrude out of the case.

Gary turned the mikes on and without much more fuss she strummed the first chords for Jim Croce’s ‘Rapid Roy’. It was fun to be playing and singing again and she belted out the fast song with gusto, her hair swaying as she moved to the music. The guys in the group were having fun and soon so was everyone else as a lot of the crowd began dancing. She had a little dueling guitar session with Joel that left them both laughing and when they finished the track, Sam on the piano, went into the intro of Leroy Brown, another one that Cat loved to do. The other players sang along with her on the chorus.

She was caught up in the music and the fun now, swung Gertrude to her back, took a mike and led the band into the next track ‘You don’t mess around with Jim’. Half way through the track she noticed Urs and David nursing drinks at the edge of the pool, Seb and Carlos talking to a couple of beautiful women. She grinned at them after the track was over and they raised their glasses to her.

Cat saw Steve coming toward her wearing a big grin and knew exactly what he was going to ask. She shook her head before he reached her and continued to do so but it was fun and she liked to sing and dance…it wasn’t the same thing when she was enthralled with the music as being the centre of attention at other times. The music insulated her and she could ignore the people who gawked, bond with those who felt the music as she did. So, encouraged by the group of musicians and Steve she put her guitar down, unbuttoned her lace top and removed it, took a mike and got ready, standing with her legs spread slightly, her back to the party goers.

The heavy beat started with the piano and then the drums and guitars coming in. Right on cue she whirled around and belted out the song, ‘Faster than the Speed of Night’. She danced and pranced around the poolside stage, even up on the top of the upright piano as she sang the fast sexy song, trying not to look at anyone in particular, just having a good time. The track ended with Cat near the band and bent back so her hair hung in a cascade to the floor, hitting the high notes in a pure mezzo sound that was piercing.

Now the party was moving, everyone having a great time as they danced and enjoyed the music and the band went into the intro of another Bonnie Tyler song that would be great for some of them to dance to and that they wanted Cat to do. Short of making a scene she felt she had to do it.

Just before she was to come in on the verse she caught sight of Urs and David again, both wearing huge grins. This time she wound through the crowd as she danced, acting like a woman in heat, searching for her ‘Hero’, spurning the many offers by guys around the pool, searching but not finding. During the interlude she did a routine of almost balletic moves, returning to the band as the song neared the end and singing along with them as the music faded. This time she shook her head vehemently and put her lace top on, searched for her wine glass and found it empty. She was just going to leave them as they started another slower song when a hand came into view holding a full wineglass.

“Here, I think you need this. That was amazing. I didn’t know you could sing and that routine you did…it was like crossover ballet.” Urs had brought her some wine and was standing grinning at her, a real grin that squinched his eyes and made the dimples in his cheeks stand out.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. I’d forgotten how much energy it takes.”

Carlos and Seb wandered over just then and were full of praise and consternation.

“I didn’t even recognize you. Cat that was incredible. Why have you been hiding in those unattractive clothes? You’re a very beautiful woman.” Carlos had turned on the Latin charm and Cat smiled at him but shook her head.

“No, I’m just ordinary, really. I’ve got good hair and cat’s eyes and that fools people. Anyway I prefer that people like me for who I really am, not how I dress or look. And for me the music is fun because I only do it once in a while. I’m not good enough to make a career out of it.”

Someone grasped her about the waist and she turned to find David pulling her to a bare patch of floor to dance to Dancing Queen. He was a good dancer and she laughed aloud as he spun her in circles, his hand lightly touching her waist and turning her.

Steve came up to the guys as Cat and David swirled around on the floor and stood watching his guests having a good time.

“Cat surprised you didn’t she?” he said as he sipped his drink and glanced at Urs and Seb, Carlos again gone to talk to someone, female no doubt.

“She withdrew from society for quite a few years, it’s only recently, maybe 2-3 years, that she’s back working with Rapid UK and Claude again. I don’t know what happened but I think someone hurt her, badly and it took her a long time to get over it. At least now she’s finally stopped wearing that lame disguise but I wonder if her confidence is still bruised. Sometimes I get the feeling she’s scared, of failing, of being hurt again, of stepping outside her safety zone. Still, it’s nice to see her coming out of her shell.”

Cat and David came back and she smiled at Steve and took his arm.

“Steve, please tell me that there’s food somewhere. I forgot about lunch and dinner and now I’m starving.”

He laughed and nodded towards the house. “I remember how you used to eat. It always amazed me that someone so tiny could pack that much food away. What were you doing that you forgot to eat?”

“An art exhibit at the Convention Centre. They had a Klee that I wanted to study. It was wonderful and by the time I bladed back to the hotel it was time to get ready for tonight.”

“There’s a buffet in the dining room, Go help yourself.” He turned to the singers. “Any of you guys hungry? There’s quite a spread in there…and lots of chocolate.” He laughed as he saw Urs eyes light up. As they turned to the house Steve called out to her. “You didn’t blade here tonight did you?”

She laughed and shook her head.

Urs and Seb joined Cat and as they wound through the crowd to reach the house she scooped another glass of wine off a tray. Not usually much of a drinker she found that tonight seemed to be a major turning point for her. Her first party in a long time, the first time in ages she had performed in public as well and being in the company of a certain Swiss gentleman that made her quiver when he touched her…..too many firsts to face stone cold sober.

“What’s this blading Steve was talking about?” Urs asked as he took a few things from the buffet, watching in amazement as Cat filled her plate.

“Roller-blading,” she answered, so hungry that she forgot her own admonition to not let him get too close. “I do it every chance I get. It’s great exercise and keeps the metabolism at a peak performance level.” She added a few more prawns to her already full plate and looked around for a table. Seb waved at them from the side of the terrace and indicated he had found one so they made their way to him.

Cat attacked her food without waiting for the men to start and they laughed at the amount she had. “Do you always eat like this?” Urs asked as he watched her.

She looked up in surprise then laughed too. “Only when I remember to eat. I love food and fortunately I’m active enough that it doesn’t pack any weight on me. I’m also a good cook but never have the time anymore…it usually turns out to be a quick sandwich or take out, if I remember.” She finished her wine and signaled a waiter for another, drank half of it to wash her food down and eased back in her chair.

“I’m surprised no –one has fallen in the pool yet. At Steve’s parties there’s always one and then everyone else follows. I haven’t been to this house in a long time but it’s kind of like the whole scene was caught in a time warp.”

“So you and Steve are friends from a long time?” Seb asked and she smiled at him, finishing the last bit of shrimp on her plate before she answered. “Since before I was born actually. Steve is my god-father, he was best friends with my parents and took his responsibilities very seriously especially when they died. We usually see each other about twice a year, he oversaw my education, would write me these long letters from all the places he visited because of his career…he always seemed to make time for me.”

They saw that her eyes had taken on a sadness and glistened with unshed tears. She took another swallow of her wine and continued. “I regret shutting him out the past few years, more so now since he’s been so kind to me. Never mentions the unanswered letters or E.mails, doesn’t hold a grudge.” She seemed to suddenly shut a door, realizing that she was opening up to these clients, allowing them to see her most private thoughts.

He stomach started to warn her that she very rarely drank, churning the food she had just eaten in revenge for the abuse she was putting it through. She rose from the table, too quickly, for the world spun a bit and it took her a moment to steady herself.

“Oops….too much wine after being dry for such a long time, I think. Excuse me for a moment, please.”

They watched as she regained control and found her way through the crowd into the house, slow and steady as if she didn’t quite trust her balance.

Cat made it to the ladies room just in time to empty her stomach of the lovely food she had just consumed, swore she wouldn’t drink again, maybe ever and washed her face, rinsed her mouth out at the sink with some mouth wash from Steve’s cabinet. Never one to wear much makeup, she saw that perhaps she should have tonight. She was a little pale but there was nothing she could do so a few minutes later she headed back to join the men.

As she neared the table she found that during her absence a very pretty blonde had joined them and was sitting on Urs lap. They were both laughing about something and the woman leaned forward to lightly kiss him. Cat felt her heart plummet and swore at the foolish sense of loss she felt. She had made it plain to him that she wasn’t interested …who could blame him for shopping around.

“Cat, haven’t seen you for a long time. Come dance with me and we’ll catch up.”

The speaker was a bass player she had known 6 years before, the year she turned 20 and went with Claude on her first tour. A nice enough guy she remembered, though a little of the playboy, always chasing anything in a skirt. Tonight she needed a diversion, didn’t want to join Urs and his new friend at the table and gladly went to dance with Mark.

He was a good dancer, easy to follow, held her a little closer than she liked but made no other overt moves. They chatted about his life mostly, another thing she remembered about him now, how self-centered he had always been. Still it was easier than coming up with excuses for her long absence from the music scene. They finished dancing and moved to a bench, Mark stopping a waiter and getting her another white wine. Cat said she had finished drinking for the night but her eyes caught Urs staring at her and defiantly she took it and drained the glass. After that she lost count.

She danced with Mark again, laughed at his jokes and feigned interest in the exploits he was talking about, drank more wine, lots more, but always aware that she was being watched intently. Her head was becoming increasingly fuzzy and she found herself led into the house, unaware of what was happening until with a jolt she realized that Mark had her on a sofa and was running his hands under her cami, her top was gone and her mouth was being ravaged by someone with revolting breath.

She struggled to free herself and pushed at him but her hands seemed to have no strength. With an effort she freed her mouth and hissed at him.

“Stop…NO…. Mark, let me up…please stop!!”

“Gerard said you like it rough and I guess he was right. C’mon Cat, you know you want it.” Mark tried to force his mouth over hers again and Cat cried out. “No!”

CHAPTER SIX

Gerard…the memory brought back all the pain and sorrow and she tried to scream but found his hands on her throat cutting off her air. Adrenaline surged through her and she found the strength to move her hand free and rake the nails, kept long for guitar playing, across his cheek.

“You b**ch !” he shrieked at her and doubled his fist to punch her in the face. Before he could continue, his arm was grabbed violently from behind and his body followed, landing on his butt a few feet away.

Urs stood over him, seething with fury, picked Mark up by the neck and drove his fist in Mark’s stomach, again into his face, shoved him out the door and turned to Cat who was curled on the sofa, weeping. He went to her and cradled her in his arms letting her cry it out, all the while murmuring softly to her, telling her it was over, she was safe, trying to calm her.

She quieted after a few minutes, lay against him with only the occasional gulp for air as she regained her composure. Urs retrieved her lace shirt and helped her put it on, tidied her hair and tipped her face up to look in her eyes. She seemed dazed and so sad it made his heart ache.

“How about some coffee? We could have it in here if you don’t want to go back out to the party.”

Cat smiled and he felt relieved that she was capable of it. “Thanks but I never drink coffee….or wine either though you’d never know it by tonight. You should get back to your new friend. Thank you for the rescue, Urs.” Her voice was soft and raspy, full of the sadness and residual fear that filled her eyes.

“My new friend? Oh, you mean Carol…we go way back. She married one of my best friends from the Amsterdam Chorale. I was just congratulating her on their newest addition. That’s 3 for them and she’s still slim as a rake. I wanted to introduce you but you left with that Mark character. I didn’t like the look of him so I followed you into the house.”

Cat rose slowly from the sofa and stumbled a bit. Urs grasped her arm and frowned.

“Urs I think I’ve had enough party. If you could call me a cab I think I’ll go home.”

He shook his head and picked her up. “I’ll take you,” he said in such a firm tone that she didn’t bother to argue, just gave up and nestled her head against his neck, actually comforted that he wasn’t about to leave her alone.

He sent one of the waiters for Steve and when Cat’s godfather came to the foyer to see what was going on he explained that Cat had too much wine and he was going to take her home. Steve looked at him with raised brows and Urs responded with “Loan me a car and I’ll see that she’s settled in and be right back.”

Steve handed Urs the car keys, mentioned which one it was and bent over Cat to give her a fatherly kiss Good Night. When she raised her head he saw that her neck was bruised, already turning color and looked angrily at Urs, who shook his head and mouthed ‘Not me…Later’.

Cat drifted off to sleep with her head on Urs’ thigh as they drove through the streets to the hotel, roused briefly and murmured ‘Gertrude’ as they crossed the lobby. In the elevator he asked who Gertrude was.

She giggled. “My guitar,” then got serious and her eyes flooded with unhappy tears again. “Urs, I left her at Steve’s. I abandoned Gertrude.”

He laughed and motioned with his head to the bell hop. “No, you didn’t. Steve brought Gertrude and your bag out to the car just before we left. You were asleep. Jorge has them.”

“Okay,” was all she said and promptly fell asleep again.

The bellman let them into Cat’s suite and happily left with the good tip that Urs passed him. He placed Cat on her bed and she lay there silently, out cold. He took her shoes off and debated about the rest, knew that she would be angry if he undressed her but she so often was anyway that it didn’t matter much. He inched her out of her jeans, slipped her top off and pulled her cami up over her head, all the while as she lay limp in his hands, like a rag doll. Dressed now only in a lacy white bra and underwear she looked incredibly beautiful and it took all his control not to feast his eyes on her. He couldn’t help but notice a round, purplish scar on the side of her flat stomach, another just above it under her left breast and wondered what had happened to cause them.

He pulled the covers on her bed down a bit and picked her up to place her on the soft bedding, surprised when she murmured and opened her eyes. Her arms came up around his neck and her hands lost themselves in his hair. She opened her rosy mouth and smiled at him, whispering “Would you kiss me again Urs? I need something wonderful to dream about.”

He was unable to resist and kissed her tenderly, deepening the kiss when her mouth opened and she plundered his, touching the inside of his lips with her tongue, nipping his lower lip with her teeth and arching her body up to meet his.

It was impossible not to react to her passion. He couldn’t stop his hands from roaming gently over her smooth skin, his mouth trailing kisses over her neck and chest, making her moan, making his own body react noticeably.

“Oh…Oh that feels so good, Urs. I don’t deserve this, please just hold me, nothing more, please…..Oh Urs, you don’t know how frightened I am of you….If only…”

He pulled her into his arms and held her until she calmed and slept, knowing that once more he could have taken her but unwilling to lose control when she was so fragile. And ‘frightened’? Why would she be frightened of him?

He snuggled her into the bed and covered her with the duvet, brushing a strand of hair from her face and kissed her lightly. Then he left, going back as he had promised to explain what he could to Steve.

As he had expected Steve was waiting on the front terrace when Urs drove up. Without a word he motioned for Urs to follow him and led the way to a book lined room, shut the door and turned to face the singer.

“Now, tell me,” he said and left no room for stalling.

“What I said about too much wine was true, but that wasn’t everything. She had a couple of dances with an old friend and he must have seen how vulnerable she was. He kept pouring the wine into her then dragged her off into the house and I had a very bad feeling about his intentions so I followed a few minutes later. He had Cat pinned to the sofa and she was fighting him off and crying, telling him to stop. He got rough with her and I stopped him. He left and Cat was so upset I couldn’t leave her. And that’s all of it except he’ll have a set of claw marks across his face where she scratched him and maybe a black eye or two were I hit him. She’s okay now and asleep.” Urs waited for Steve to say something and when he did it was with such a cold voice Urs knew that Mark was going to regret ever touching Cat.

“Who?”

“Mark somebody…don’t know his last name. Don’t do anything rash Steve. Whatever you do will come back on Cat and she doesn’t deserve that.”

Steve went over to a little mini bar in the corner and without asking poured them each a drink. He gave one to Urs and drank his down in one toss.

“Did she tell you I’m her godfather?” He motioned to chairs and they both sat. “I loved her mother more than life but she married my best friend and I was happy for them until he started to abuse her, something that shocked me, I never knew he was like that. Maggie came to me many times, crying about the way Jed drank, how mean he would get but it wasn’t until she was nearly due with Cat that I saw any marks on her. I warned him what I would do if he ever laid a hand on her again in anger and things were fine until Cat was nearly 3. Then one night he came home drunk and beat her so bad that she could hardly stand. She tried to take Cat and run but he caught her and tossed the child into a neighbour’s yard, then chased Maggie into the road. They both were hit and killed. Cat landed on some garden stakes, she has two scars on her from them, doesn’t know why, just that it was a childhood injury.”

He poured them each another drink and sat again. “Claude is actually my father’s younger brother. I took Cat to Claude and Celeste to raise, my lifestyle wasn’t the best for a child and they had no children though they tried for years. She had a good life with them, had a talent for music that we developed, voice, piano, guitar, violin, ballet, but also had the ability to feel others pain, sometimes to the extent that she seemed to take it into herself and help them. So when she asked, we sent her to study some of the ancient healing arts, massage, acupressure, holistic stuff that I don’t understand but it seems to work when she does it.

“When she had some problems about 6-7 years ago, she withdrew, wouldn’t talk to any of us, disappeared for a while, e.mailed, then went off by herself. She kept in touch with Claude and Celeste by mail or e.mail….from Mexico, Brazil, from India, and Nepal, from New Mexico several times for a while and then Nepal again.

“I think she was raped, maybe a few times, certainly for a few days while she was missing. She never said what happened or where she went, what she did but now she seems more at peace, though she never dates and seldom socializes. She keeps everyone at arms length, won’t allow closeness in her life. I worry about her…I want her to be happy and sometimes I see the flicker of fear in her eyes and I don’t like it.”

Urs met Steve’s eyes and bluntly asked him. “Why are you telling me this Steve? I would never hurt her, you must know that.”

Steve smiled at him but the warmth didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yes, I know. But Urs, I’m not blind. I see the way the two of you dance around each other, the way she keeps herself from being close to you, not even like a brother as she is with the rest of the band. I’m just asking you to be patient, to let her ease into whatever might be. She seems strong and tough at times but really she’s very fragile, has been for over 6 years and I don’t know how to help her. Have patience. I think you’ll find she’s worth the wait.”

Urs grinned at him. “Great advice Steve, but a little late. I already decided that I wouldn’t rush things and scare her off. I figure I have a few more months to melt that wall of ice she puts between us, but let me warn you now…it will happen and I will make her happy, if she lets me.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Cat woke to the mother of all headaches, downed some aspirin and did some gentle Tai Chi to realign her jangled nerve endings. She had some yogurt out of the little mini fridge and a glass of orange juice, showered and by the time she had dried off felt immensely better, but was annoyed since there were far too many gaps in her memory from the night before. One thing she did remember was the episode with Mark, as she could see now from the evidence, bruising on her throat and legs, a couple of broken fingernails and a clear picture of Urs as she never seen him before, looking eight feet tall and in such fury he was nearly unrecognizable as the sweet, gentle man she knew. How had he known she needed him? And how could she have been so stupid as to drink heavily when she normally drank so little?

Thank goodness today was a free day. The guys had something secret planned, something that Carlos had arranged and just told them about before the party yesterday. They would be gone all day and back in the very late evening so she had the whole day free.

She looked at the nice comfy bed for a few minutes…it was very tempting but she knew that the best thing for her was to keep busy so she went downstairs and had a very light breakfast in the restaurant then worked on some arrangements for a while. Security would be at the venue around noon and she could get in then to check the wardrobe, getting a head start on tomorrow.

Just after lunch, which she skipped, she donned her blades and went slowly to the venue, the Greek Theatre, was passed in by the guards and made her way to the dressing rooms. Her headache was still with her a bit, a nagging presence that refused to leave completely, matching the tired body she was lugging around.

Empty theatres always seemed a little spooky to her, haunted by the ghosts of all the past performances, good and bad. Her footsteps echoed as she went down the hall, entered the dressing room and clicked on the light.

There was a faint scent of aftershave in the room, a mix of the scents the four of them wore, not unpleasant and she breathed deep as she checked each suit for defects or the necessity of dry cleaning or steaming. As always Urs was the neatest, his buttons done up to keep the lines from sagging, his dress shoes wiped and evenly aligned under his suits. She brushed her hands lightly over the shoulders of his jacket and down the sleeves, remembering only now the way he had cuddled her in the house after he threw Mark out, the strong feel of his muscles wrapping around her, the safety she felt as long as he touched her.

She shook her head and moved away from the rack. There was only a short time left before they returned to the UK and then a brief break before the Summer Nights concerts. If she could just last until then, perhaps Claude would take over the UK part and she could go back to Rapid UK. That’s what she desperately needed…to be busy and away from the daily sight of him, the scent that she could detect even in a crowded room, the glimpses of him that made her heart lurch.

She wandered out onto the stage and looked out at the rows of seating, picturing how it would look the next night, filled with enthused fans, all eager to listen to and perhaps even get close to the Divos. So many adoring women of all ages.

In a way she was proud of her small part in their success but knew that it was the natural charm and amazing vocal talents that drew these people to the guys. They were without a doubt the nicest, most gentlemanly and truly likeable performers it had ever been her pleasure to work with and for that she was sorry that she wanted so desperately to end it.

She sat on the edge of the stage were Urs usually sat during Somewhere and smiled at how he so often flushed when the fans became a little too friendly. Most were very respectful but there had been a few who demanded kisses or tried to touch him, and of course there were the panties and bras. He had adapted to that quite nicely, passing them on to Carlos as rapidly as possible and she thought of it and smiled.

Dear Carlos. He put on such a good front as the typical Latin Lover but she knew at heart he was so in love with his Geraldine that he never followed through on the constant flirting he seemed unable to stop. None of them was into the usual musicians ‘perks’ of one night stands with women whose names they would forget the next day, if they ever bothered to even ask. Even Seb and Urs, the two real bachelors preferred to have platonic ‘dates’ for publicity purposes with members of the orchestra or one of the stylists, though even that was not often with their hectic schedules. And David of course was over the moon since he had found out that his Sarah would be joining them in the UK for the Australian part of the tour.

For a second she thought of how lovely that would be, going with Urs on the tour, not merely as part of the crew but WITH him. It made her feel warm and happy to think about it but suddenly the words that Mark had shouted at her echoed in her head and she shuddered.

‘Gerard said you liked it rough!’ and ‘You know you want it!’

The image of swarthy men on top of her and the overpowering scent of sweating bodies made her gag and she wept as she ran from the stage, gathered her things and left the venue, trembling and silently crying as she donned her blades and headed for the hotel.

Would those memories haunt her forever?

**

An hour’s drive from the hotel, in Disneyland, Carlos had surprised his Geraldine with a dream wedding, everything planned and kept secret from the bride: their relatives and a few friends that had been flown in, the wedding dress that fit perfectly and was designed specially for her, the flowers, Cinderella’s coach. The Divos had attended in their best Armani and helped to party long into the night at the private reception and it wasn’t until very early in the morning that they returned to the Hotel.

Cat had been sitting quietly in the little nook just outside the main entrance, nestled among the thick boles of the palms and the gently swaying oleander bushes when the guys and Geraldine returned to the Hotel. Gerry had changed out of her gown into a tailored pant suit and positively beamed when she kissed the three Divos, Good Night and raced through the Lobby with Carlos.

Cat knew instinctively what had transpired, even before it was confirmed when David bowed deep to Gerry and wished “Mrs. Marin” a good night. She smiled at the thought of how happy they looked, silently wished them much happiness and sighed when she saw the others stop in the bar for one last drink to end the evening.

She settled back on the bench, thinking that she wouldn’t risk going up to try to sleep for a couple of hours without more nightmares, the thing that had driven her outside earlier. She would wait until Urs, Seb and David retired then go up and try once again, this time if it didn’t work she would just work on transcribing or maybe go online and read some Fan Fictions. It had been a while so there would be lots to catch up on.

**
She was exhausted the next morning but determined to put the unpleasantness of the party behind her. One vivid reminder was her neck. It looked like she had a purple and blue scarf tied around it, tried to cover it with makeup and gave up, putting a deep purple silk scarf around to hide the worst of it, dressed in shorts and a tank because of the warm weather and got ready to go to work.

She stuffed her sneakers and a peasant skirt in layers of mauve to match her tank into her small back pack, picked up Gertrude, her roller blades and helmet and padded barefoot to the elevator.

It was nearly 11:15 by the time she donned her boots at the curb, keyed in a classical playlist on her I Pod player and left for the venue, a little later than she had planned but she knew that everything was ready for the guys at noon. They would don their Armani and go off to a studio for a talk show before coming back to the venue to get ready for the concert.

The traffic was heavier than she liked but not that dangerous yet and she was a good blader. She obeyed all the stop lights, watched for car doors opening, for drivers who strayed too far to the side, occasionally going on the sidewalk if the roads were bad or got too congested. Still she moved right along, hitting greens most of the way, getting up to a respectable speed, not paying any attention to the odd pedestrian or driver who called out to her. She looked fluid, even elegant as she glided along, her strong legs propelling her with ease, keeping time with the Mozart that was playing, her damp hair streaming behind her over the top of her back pack and Gertrude.

For the past few blocks though, she had felt a limo pacing her even though she signaled a few times for him to pass. They came to a red light and she spun in a circle on one blade to stare at the driver and the back window rolled down. It was the band and they laughed when she recognized them and called them voyeurs.

The light changed and she sped off, challenged now and in a racers crouch, taking a short cut that they couldn’t through a narrow alley, flying down the next street, cutting the corner easily with overlapping strokes of her long legs, jumping the curb at the stage entrance of the venue and was sitting on the edge of a planter taking her boots off when they pulled up.

She grinned at them as she slid her laceless sneakers on and tied her blades together to carry them. Urs took them from her along with her backpack and she started to carp at him, ceasing when he ignored her and walked calmly into the venue.

“I can carry my own stuff you know,” she said as she caught up with him.

He just smiled at her and kept going. “I know but it makes me feel like a jock to carry your blades. People will think I know how to use them.”

His reasoning amused her and she laughed as they went in the doors.

“Damn you, Urs. You make it impossible for me to be angry with you.”

He just looked at her and smiled. “Good, then I’m making some progress.”

“So no ill effects from the other night?” he asked and grinned at her as they wound through the hall to the dressing room.

She shrugged. “Only what I deserved. A bit of a headache when I first got up but I did some Tai Chi to get rid of it, ate some yogurt to settle my stomach and got lots of exercise to infuse my body with oxygen. No sweat.”

Carlos, who knew nothing about the incident with Mark was very undiplomatic when he noticed the edges of bruising on her neck.

“Cat, who was the cabrone who did that to you? Those are fingermarks!”

She put her hand to her neck and paled but tried to laugh it off. “I…uh..had a little argument with someone….he lost.”

Nothing would satisfy the singers but to show them her neck and when she did they were horrified and angry. Indeed it did look terrible, purple and blue streaks that were clearly the marks of fingers and went in a half circle around both sides of her neck. The inside of her throat was sore but she didn’t mention that since the bruises clearly upset them so much.

Cat stamped her foot in anger as she tried to put the scarf back. Urs pushed her hands out of the way and did it for her, letting his fingers linger for just a second on her neck when he finished.

He went about getting ready with a short but direct comment to the men.

“Okay, we’ve all seen what this guy did and Cat knows how we feel about men who hurt women. Now let’s stop embarrassing the woman and get ready for work.”

“Anyone have a hangover?” Cat asked them as they started to get ready. They all denied it and she took Gertrude and her backpack to another dressing room to change into her skirt, thinking as she did that it was a good thing they hadn’t noticed the couple of large bruises on her thighs as well. They were all so cute, so protective of her. It was like having a whole set of brothers. Well, three anyway. She was pretty sure that Urs, unfortunately, didn’t feel very brotherly toward her.

When she went back to the dressing room they had all donned pants and shoes, started on shirts and the room was scattered with discarded clothing. As always she cruised the room, picking up their clothing, folding everything neatly and placing their street clothes in the usual spots reserved for their belongings. As each singer was ready, Cat checked them out, adjusting a tie or collar, adding just a bit more shine to shoes, reminded David about his ear-rings, and before she thought, reached up to tuck Urs’ hair behind his ears, the way he liked it.

Her fingers were still tingling as she faced them and grinned. “Perfect. You all look good enough to eat. Go make Mama proud.” They laughed at her as they left and promised to be back in time to catch the jam session before the orchestra left.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Urs, what really happened the other night?”

David and Urs had finished their makeup and styling first and were lounging in the Green room, waiting for Seb and Carlos and putting in time until they were called for the interview. They had grabbed coffees from the side table in the comfortable room…which wasn’t green at all but an insipid shade of beige, walls, sofas, chairs, even carpet…… the coffee and fixings and assortment of pastries, compliments of the host.

He sat down opposite David and nursed his coffee, comfortable talking to the big American that he had become so close to over the past year.

He described in an economical use of words the incident with Mark, saw David’s usually cheerful face darken with anger and for a change opened up and spoke about his private thoughts to him, about the brief glimpse he had into Cat’s mixed feelings, about this fear she had and what Steve had told him, even though it was mostly guess work.

“It’s pretty sure that she was abused, somehow and by someone and can’t get over it. It must have been pretty bad to still be affecting her and I think that’s why she won’t let herself feel anything for me. It’s so frustrating. When I kiss her she just kind of melts into me and responds with so much passion but only for a few minutes, then the fear comes back.”

David was silent for a moment.

“So why don’t you just stop trying to get through to her and get on with your life. There’s lots of women out there ready and willing to jump through hoops to get close to you.”

Urs looked up sharply, angered at David’s unfeeling comment, but saw that even though he had asked the question, he knew the answer, just wanted Urs to say it.

“You’re an ass, David….you know I care about her. I want to take care of her, to show her that all men aren’t animals, to make her understand that some of us would never hurt a woman, that sharing love can be a beautiful experience, not something to be afraid of….and you already know that’s how I feel.”

David smiled.

“Yeah I knew, but I wondered how much you cared. Now I know.”

Seb and Carlos entered the room and they began talking about the interview.

**

They were late getting back, only three Divos since Carlos had left to meet up with Gerry and they found only a half dozen musicians still there but were drawn to the stage by the music. The three singers had left their Armani on and strolled onto the stage looking elegant though Urs carried his electric guitar and Seb his acoustic.

Part way through the track, ‘Hero’ done in English with Cat singing and playing acoustic, her voice a little raspy but perfect for the low ranges of the song, Urs and Seb caught up and joined in the music. It was fun singing and playing with them and Cat forgot her trepidation at being with such professionals and enjoyed herself.

They went into another Julio Iglesia track “I will Survive” and the back up Urs and Seb did to her melody was inspired.

When it was done Cat looked at the guys and shyly asked what she hadn’t felt confident asking before.

“I’ve never had a real pro voice to sing some of my favourites with before. Would you be offended if I asked you to do a couple with me? I’ll understand if you don’t want to.”

Urs smiled gently and nodded at her. “I think we’d all be honored to sing with you, little Kitty…if we know the tracks.” She strummed a few notes of L’Amour En Heritage and both David who was now at the piano and the guys on guitars picked up right away. Urs sang with her until the build up at the end when they all sang. Marlene on violin started the intro for the next one, mouthing please at Cat and everyone joined in…Verdi’s Je Chante Avec Toi Liberte.. This one didn’t call for guitars and so all three sang with Cat.

Urs could see and hear that Cat’s throat was bothering her, knew that it was possible for a tenor or mezzo to push their voices though not wise, so he cut the session short by claiming they needed to relax a bit before the night’s performance.

Cat made them all change when they returned to the dressing room and steamed their suits, put out fresh shirts for the evening and tried not to talk much since her throat hurt like sin. When she had finished with the clothing she went to the sofa in the room and leaned back in the cushions closing her eyes as she tried to control the tears that were dangerously close to the surface. She felt someone sit beside her and when she raised her head and opened her eyes it was Urs, just as she had known it would be.

He held a glass of fruit juice in his hand and when she went to speak he put his finger to her lips and said “Hush. Here drink this, it will help.” She raised her brows in question and he smiled.

“It’s just fruit juice with honey. I drink it when I’ve abused my throat. It’s very soothing.”

She took a sip, found that one a little difficult to swallow but soothing and sipped at it until it was all gone. She still didn’t trust herself to speak without croaking and lay her hand against his cheek in thanks. He took her hand and gently kissed the fingers, then when he saw her eyes begin to glisten with tears, pulled her down to lay her head in his lap with his leather jacket over her.

“Nap time,” he said and leaned his head back on the cushions. Cat closed her eyes and slept, feeling safer than she had in 6 years except in Nepal. She dreamt of being in Nepal and the peace of the woman’s house and the calmness of the monks as they went about their daily business.

When Seb and David came back from the quick trip to a fast food joint they found Urs resting and Cat fast asleep with her head on his thigh, a slight peaceful smile on her face.

David smiled as he saw them, happy that Urs seemed to be making some progress, slow, but progress. They made a pretty picture and he half thought of grabbing his cam-corder to capture the moment, Cat sleeping peacefully with her head on Urs thigh, his large hand laying gently on her shoulder, a look of tenderness about him. Just as he decided not to do it, Cat stirred and moved her arm out from under the leather jacket to let it fall across Urs, unfortunately her hand fell unerringly were it shouldn’t. Urs groaned and reached for her hand, taking it gently in his and holding it against his thigh, beside her face, the safest spot he could find.

He grinned at David and whispered “She doesn’t make keeping in control easy.”

David laughed softly and unwrapped the sandwich Urs had asked for, handing him half.

“I didn’t know what Cat would want,” he said quietly. “So I got her a vanilla shake and some Chocolate cream pie. Figured they would be easy to swallow.” Another tenor, David had also noticed how sore her throat was.

Just then Cat woke, stretched and sat up.

“I smell food, who has something to eat?” She spoke before remembering how much her throat had hurt after singing and was relieved to find it felt better but still sounded a bit raspy.

Urs had stopped with his half sandwich part way to his mouth and looked reluctant as he held it out to her.

“P.B and J. if you think you can swallow it. David brought you a shake and some pie.”

She smiled. Since coming to the States Urs had become addicted to Peanut Butter and Jam sandwiches.

“Feeding your habit again? I’ll settle for the shake and pie, Thanks David. How long was I out?”

Between mouthfuls of sandwich Urs told her about 45 minutes and she smiled as she idly commented.

“That’s the best sleep I’ve had since Nepal, one of the few times in over 6 years with no nightmares.” They noticed that she paled slightly and turned away, embarrassed to have spoken of something so private.

Cat rose and moved to the other side of the room to sit at the small round table with Seb and work on the pie. After the first few bites she found her throat much improved and smiled at the men.

“I think your magic drink is working Urs. I feel much better, thank you.” She finished, took her shake and left the dressing room saying she needed to check on something when actually what she needed was to put some distance between herself and the tender ministrations of that gorgeous man. She was upset with herself for allowing him to melt the fringes of the wall she tried, most of the time, to keep between them.

**

The concert that night was the usual success, the approval and love from the audience fed the adrenal rush the performers received and helped them to achieve even better results each time. They were bubbling with energy when they came backstage to change and remove their stage makeup. Cat caught some of their fervor as they took turns dancing her around the room, all except Urs who, she was sort of thankful, for some reason never danced with her.


They asked her to go to dinner with them and Gerry but she claimed to have already eaten and just wanted to get some rest. When she went out the stage door a few minutes later the men were all still swarmed by fans who wanted pictures and autographs. She inched her way past them and a little further down the alley sat on the planter box to put her blades on. A few minutes later she noticed the band and several beautiful women heading for the limo, put her helmet on and with her small pack and Gertrude on her back, quickly headed down the alley to the street, paused to check the traffic and sped through a small gap to reach the other side.

She was upset, and angry with herself for feeling this way. To burn off some of the adrenaline coursing through her she took chances, bladed too fast, went up a ramp and became airborne, doing a twist in the air before landing on one blade, going into a crouch to go faster around a corner.

There was a red light ahead and she stopped with the traffic, her body already sticky with sweat, a sheen on her face. She waltzed her blades back and forth in impatience, waiting for the light to change, got up to speed fast as it changed to green, laughing as a car blocked her path and she jumped it, one hand on the hood as she flew over and landed to the amazement of the driver who sat watching open-mouthed.

She grinned and spun in a circle to wave at him, turned again and fled before he could yell at her, finished the last mile like a bullet in a racing crouch, under the tail of a truck who tried to beat the light, grasping the rear bumper to sling-shot herself past, jumped the small flower bed at the entrance to the parking area, went up the ramp to the delivery doors and flew again, doing a three spin in the air and landing again on one blade, spinning slowly to come to a stop. She stepped lightly to the curb and stood for a minute with her hands on her knees, catching her breath. There was a sound of squealing brakes behind her and she whirled around to find the band’s limo pulling to a stop inches from her and a furious singer erupting from the back.

“What the hell were you trying to do?” He yelled as he came close to grab her shoulders and shake her. “You’re lucky you didn’t get killed a half dozen times.”

She could see that Urs was so angry his eyes blazed fire and deep inside she quaked, fear infusing her entire body, stopping her breathing. Behind him, nearer the limo the other singers had exited and stood watching…. no women, except for Gerry…she had been mistaken.

Cat struggled to free herself but Urs was so angry it made her weak. With difficulty she whispered “Let me go” and her timidness seemed to get through to him and he saw the fear in her eyes, the paling of her skin under the sheen of sweat and he released her. She gasped for a breath and sank to the curb to remove her boots, trying to steady her breathing at the same time, rose to face him and very softly spoke, cutting off the apology he was trying to get out through clenched teeth.

He could still see the fear in her eyes and the way her body shook violently as she faced him but her words were calm and brutal.

“Don’t ever put your hands on me again, not ever!”

She turned and went barefoot into the side entrance, leaving him to return to the limo, still angry but also hurt now that she was so afraid of him.

**

In the morning before she went in to the venue for the second L.A. concert she e.mailed Uncle Claude to inquire about his health, didn’t mention any problems but prayed he would be ready to come back to work.

She sedately bladed in to work, checked everything and made herself scarce until the band was on stage. At the intermission she was there with their changes ready, cool, professional and distant as she performed her duties, managing to avoid eye contact with Urs, not overly friendly with any of them, just efficient and distant, answering any direct questions with one word replies. After the performance she collected the suits and laundry, checked them and found that they would all need a quick cleaning. She couldn’t resist torturing herself by burying her face in Urs’ shirts, breathing in the light scent he wore and the faint tinge of body heat from the glare of the stage lights. Her eyes welled with tears and she quickly folded and packed them for the trip the next morning with all the others and was gone before anyone realized it.

From the Hotel she phoned the transportation manager and requested an early pick up so she could have the suits cleaned and he offered to have her picked up at 5:30 a.m., the earliest truck leaving.

Another night full of nightmares and lack of sleep and it was beginning to show. Cat had bought some emergency makeup in the Hotel pharmacy for the bruising on her neck and now applied some to her eyes to hide the shadows. She was ready before the truck arrived and tried to sleep on the 4 hour drive to San Diego but failed miserably. The driver was a young man on his first Tour, full of tales of what he had seen so far, enthused about his job and kept up a non stop conversation throughout the trip.

She was exhausted by the time the suits and laundry were ready and everything arranged to be delivered, all as it should be. Her legs felt leaden as she bladed to the waterfront and nibbled on a salad at one of the small kiosks after checking out the Indian parts at a local garage. They were perfect and she paid to have them shipped to the UK but even this small success after such a long search did nothing to buoy her spirits.

The ocean was usually calming but today she just found it empty, endless. She felt guilty for over-reacting about the fans. The guys had recognized them from other concerts, lovely, but harmless, very happily married ladies who had parked at the outer edges of the giant lot and had gladly accepted a lift out to their vehicle. On top of every thing else guilt was a heavy burden. Gertrude was back in her room so she didn’t even have music to brighten her mood. At last she gave up and slowly went back to the venue.

There were at least two hours before anyone arrived so she put her hair in a high ponytail, stripped to a unitard and soft shoes, found her CD’s and with only the one light on the dim stage began to do some Tai Chi/Ballet routines to the music.

Within seconds she was lost to the music and danced, first Tchaikovsky, then Offenbach followed by Beethoven’s Emperor Suite. Mozart’s Elvira Madigan was next, then Morricone even though it made her cry as she danced, thinking of the Il Divo version of Nella Fantasia.

For a cool down she switched to Tai Chi to Beethoven’s Pathetique, the slow moves and deep breathing somewhat comforting. She stretched her tallest then bent to grasp her left ankle with her face against her knee and right leg extended fully to the ceiling, held if for one long beat then melted into a front roll and came up to her feet again, this time bending backwards until her hands were flat on the floor and did a walkover that ended in the splits, raised herself on her hands and slowly stretched her body upright to a hand stand, rolled out of it and went back to slow Ballet moves.

The movements and music did nothing to lift her spirits today. She wasn’t aware of how she looked but knew that she felt sad, felt that her dancing probably reflected it, no passion, just soul wrenching despair.

Before the CD ended, the flood she had held back burst and she wept as she finished her routine, tears silently flowing down her cheeks until she finally gave up and fell to her knees, covered her face with her hands and sobbed. The music ended and she gathered her belongings and started toward the wings, gasped when she realized that someone was watching her from the dark second step of the set.

Urs, all dressed in black, his hair still curly from his shower. He rose and stared at her without smiling or speaking and then turned and walked off the stage. Cat followed slowly, entered the dressing room to find him sitting on the sofa nursing two bottles of water. He held one out to her without a word and she took it, wiping her wet face on a towel and draining half the bottle. She turned away, murmured “I need to change” and took her pack and gear to another dressing room.

After she changed to her skirt and tank she pulled her lap-top out of her pack and signed in to check her e.mail, swore quietly when there were no messages from Uncle Claude, closed it down again and got ready to go to work.

**

Once again they got into a routine, fly or bus to a venue, check it out, rough practice with the local orchestra members, sound checks, late dinners, TV appearances, all the things that make up a World Tour.

Cat kept herself busy with her work, took time to find a gym for workouts, stayed private as much as possible, bladed everywhere if the distances were reasonable. Her bruises faded but she didn’t look healthy, her skin pale and shadowed and she lost weight. The nightmares returned, again nearly nightly. She politely refused all social invitations, even requests to join Steve for dinner or Gerry for a girls only night or the musicians for jam sessions and soon everyone stopped asking.

**

Of course the Divos all knew that the change in the atmosphere was a result of Urs’ panic and loss of temper when he had seen Cat being careless roller blading. It seemed impossible to tie her down to talk about it or to ease the tension between them by involving her in casual get togethers. She had perfected a skill at avoiding people over the years and never allowed an opportunity to talk to arise in their busy schedule. Even Gerry was at a loss of how to solve the dilemma though she, more than the others, sensed that Urs was not handling it well. He was tired looking, not sleeping or eating well, quieter than usual, spending more time at the gym and less enjoying the company of his friends.

She tried to talk to Urs one afternoon while Carlos was getting his hair trimmed and they sat on the stage, enjoying the quiet and the air-conditioning.

Gerry saw him sitting on one of the steps of the set and went to him with a smile, parked herself on his lap and hugged him.

“Want to talk about it, Swiss boy?” she said softly.

Urs didn’t try to dissemble, not with Gerry. He knew she was much too wise about the vibes that he was emanating and would only hound him until he opened up.

He smiled at her pretty face and sighed.

“I don’t think even you can fix this problem, little Sister. I really blew it Gerry. I knew how fragile Cat was but it scared me when I saw her skating like that and I lost my temper. Now we’re back to the coldness like it was when she first came on the tour, worse even, since she’s keeping everyone at arms length, not just me. I care about her so much…. To be so close and yet have this distance between us is eating me up but short of grabbing her and having her even more afraid of me I don’t know what to do.”

Gerry patted him on the shoulder and he rested his head against her chest, comforted by her concern.

“Urs, I don’t think Cat is afraid of you really. She must know that none of you guys would ever hurt her. I think she’s afraid of the feelings she has for you, afraid to let herself trust and accept what could be between the two of you. All you can do is be patient, wait for her to break down and reach out to you, and be there for her when she does. It’s not fair or easy, but if you care enough…it will happen.”

They heard Carlos coming and Urs sat up, kissed Gerry on the cheek and quietly replied.

“I care enough, Gerry… more than enough. Thank you.”

He waved at Carlos as he went for his trim and Carlos gathered his wife in his arms, kissed her thoroughly, knowing exactly what the tender scene that he had observed was about.

“Gracias, Querida,” he said and hugged her tight, lifting her off her tiny feet. He hoped that soon this distance between the two would- be lovers would be healed and they would be as happy as he was with his adorable and wise wife.

CHAPTER NINE

The news from Claude was not what she had hoped. He was still not feeling up to par and asked her to stay on till the end of the tour and she e.mailed him back that she would out of concern for his health.

July second they arrived in Vancouver, Canada. David had picked up a flu bug somewhere along the line and when the band tried to practice so the sound engineers could work on the mix, Steve didn’t want to let him try to sing, preferring to save his voice for the concert the next night. He came to Cat and told her that since Gerry was tied up getting her hair done, she would have to do David’s part, in practice only. There was no one else with the top range to do it. He left without waiting for her reply and she slowly walked out to the stage to join the band, not happy but feeling duty bound.

David was there but didn’t look well and reclined on the steps, perking up a bit when he saw Cat. He held his hand out to her and she took it, smiled at him and stroked her cool hand over his fevered forehead.

“I wish there was something I could do for you, Davey,” she said.

“Thanks Cat. This is a big help. The guys will try not to drown you out but we really need someone to do the top notes.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know your part, I’ve heard it often enough.” She laughed and went to collect a mike, stood near Carlos and they began, starting with Hasta Mi Final.

Cat held her own nicely through the bit of the track they did to the surprise of the singers. Then they started I Believe in You and she got completely into the song. David’s part was key to the track, the part that on the album had been done by Celine Dion and Cat sang it well, her voice rising above that of the others perfectly. They didn’t need to do the whole song but the orchestra continued and she followed, carefully not turning to meet Urs eyes but in her heart singing to him.

They did Solo Otra Vez and for some reason Cat nearly lost it on the sad track. As a result, her rendition of David’s part was so poignant that every one felt it, some nearly in tears. On ‘sin amor’ her voice actually seemed to crack with despair.

The techie spoke over the headset to Steve and he relayed the message to Cat

“They want to know if you could do something with a lot of the high range in it, just solo. There’s still some sort of reverb.”

Cat looked over at him and sighed. “How about Danny Boy in F? That’s about as much top as I can do without practice.”

The orchestra began the intro and she sang, alone. Her top was crystal clear and the guys in the band looked at each other grinning like they were responsible for her learning how to sing. By the time the track was finished and the techies were happy Cat had proved once and for all that she could sing BIG.

When they finished Cat looked over at Steve and quietly asked if they had done enough yet.

He nodded and said ‘Thanks’ and she put the mike down on one of the stools and scurried from the stage. When the singers wandered back into the dressing room, Gertrude, her backpack and roller blades were conspicuous by their absence…she had gone.

They flew back to the U.K. from Vancouver and on the flight, though she tried hard to stay awake she was so tired that a few hours into the flight she succumbed. This dream was especially vivid and as the terror built she began to whimper in her sleep, tears rolling down her cheeks, she screamed “No, Gerard!” and woke herself to find that Urs had risen from his seat and was crouched in front of her, almost touching her and looking worried. With a sob she flung herself into his arms and cried quietly against his chest. She heard him remark to someone… ‘Bad dream…she’ll be alright in a minute’…he flipped up the arm rest, sat beside her, slipped her gently onto his lap and held her against him, rocking her body gently, his mouth against her hair until she calmed. He gave her a handful of Kleenex to blow her red nose and wipe her face, brushed damp hair off her face and he smiled tenderly at her.

“You want to go back to sleep or would you rather talk?” he asked when her breathing returned to normal.

Cat looked up into his eyes, saw only concern and maybe something more, but wouldn’t let herself think about that.

“I’m sorry for being so cold to you lately. It’s just…you’re so intense sometimes…it scares me, Urs. I can’t let myself care too much for you. It wouldn’t be fair.”

He raised his brows at that and said “Fair? To whom, Cat….is there someone else in your life?” They both spoke quietly, not wanting to be overheard or to bother the sleeping passengers.

She looked horrified and shook her head vehemently. “No, no-one. To you Urs, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You’re a passionate, sensitive man, I can feel that and I’m not good enough…I’m … damaged. I could never respond to you, not the way I would want, not the way you deserve. I’m sorry.”

“Cat, you need to talk this out. I’ve held you in my arms, felt your pulse race, felt the thrill of you responding to my touch, my kisses. Cat, who is Gerard?”

He felt her stiffen and begin to withdraw and kissed her gently on her forehead. “Cat, tell me, don’t close yourself off from me again; Please…let me help you.”

She tried to burrow deeper into his chest and whispered “I can’t,” so sadly that he sighed and just held her.

Cat slept against him the rest of the way to London, no more bad dreams and Urs watched her, trying to make sense out of what he felt, of what little she had said, of what he could manage to live with, for now. Just before they started to make their descent he woke her and she returned to her own seat. He held her hands in his, kissed her fingertips gently and smiled at her.

“Okay, my beautiful Kitty, no more wall of ice between us. As much as I would like to love you, I can do without intimacy for now, if that’s what frightens you. I can’t do without you in my life but I’m not willing to put up with anymore chill. Just be yourself. I want to get to know you better, to have a good time with you and because of you. I won’t promise not to touch you or kiss you but nothing more. Can you accept that?”

She fixed those huge green eyes on him and then nodded. “Yes…I trust you, Urs.”

He smiled and kissed her tenderly, did up her seat belt and held her hand as they landed, helped with Gertrude and her backpack while they deplaned and not one bristle or complaint came from her.

CHAPTER TEN


They had nearly 2 weeks for R and R before the next concert and the band decided to spend it in London in their Chelsea flats. Cat went home to Claude and Celeste, but promised to get together with them if they called her.

Urs phoned her before noon the next day and asked if she would go with him on a search through the second hand book stores. He was looking for some old motorcycle manuals and a specific book on Amelita Galicurchi, the great Diva who had lived in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. She was eager for a good browse and they met at the Paddington Station at one, spent the entire afternoon going from one store to another.

Dinner was at a stand in the market that Cat claimed had the best fish and chips in London, served in newspaper as custom demanded, and in a small park they found a little carnival complete with merry-go-round that intrigued Cat since she claimed never to have ridden on one. Urs bought tickets and dragged her on the motionless ride, sat her sidesaddle on the wooden horse and stood beside her for the whole ride when the attendant started it up, grinning like a Cheshire Cat himself when for the first time she initiated a kiss, short and friendly but it was a kiss.

They met the guys at a coffee shop and spent an hour talking about their day, comparing notes with the others and laughing at some of the silly things that had happened.

It was like a door had opened and a new and improved Cat had entered their lives. She laughed with them and teased, told the others how Urs had toppled a huge pile of manuals trying to get the one he wanted, which of course had to be near the bottom, how he had charmed the female clerk out of her anger at the mess with one of his blinky winks. He claimed that he didn’t know what she was referring to and they all razzed him.

Gerry caught Urs’ eyes and raised her brows at him and he nodded and grinned, a private message between them that her advice been right on.

When it was time to head home, Urs sent Cat in a taxi, claiming that it was too dangerous for a pretty woman to ride the trains at night alone. She just smiled, kissed him again and stood for a minute staring in his eyes as if she was seeing him, really seeing him for the first time. Her hands came up to frame his face and again she lay her mouth on his, this time with a passion that left him burning, breathless. She got in the cab and was gone while he watched and could still taste her on his lips.

David called out to him from where the three men and Gerry waited and Urs turned to join them, murmuring to David, “Bro, I need to get l**d. I don’t know how much more of this teasing I can take.”

David nodded to his friend and though he knew the answer offered a suggestion. “Well there are plenty of ladies available. All you have to do is say the word, you know that.”

Urs stuck his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “Can’t do it. I’d feel like I was cheating.”

David laughed and groaned. “Yeah, I know just what you mean. Three more weeks and Sarah will be here and I can hardly wait. The first free day I have we’re going to spend the whole day in bed.”

**

They all went to the zoo one day and then out for dinner after in Soho, another day they visited the Museums and Galleries, saw the Elgin Marbles and in the evening went to a club for dinner and dancing.

This time Urs actually danced some of the slow tunes with Cat and she found that he was an excellent partner but she blushed when he said that he found dancing very sensual and so didn’t do it often.

At the end of the first week when Urs phoned in the morning Cat said that she needed to do some shopping, that he could come with her if he liked but would probably be bored since she was looking for some slightly more formal clothing for the venues they would be going to. He met her at Picadilly Circus and they used his Mini Martin to browse the lanes of dress shops, settled on one area and parked.

Before too long Cat was happy he had come along for he had excellent taste and an eye for colors and styles that suited her. She tried a few gowns on, settled on several and he pulled her into a shoe store to try on matching footwear for her gowns.

“How did you get to be so smart about women’s clothing? Is there something you’re not telling me?” She smiled at him and raised her brows, teasing him.

“Only that I have three very bossy sisters who never would have found husbands if I hadn’t taught them how to look good.”

“I wonder what they would say if I asked them?” she teased.

They stowed the parcels in the Mini and decided to spend the next few hours in a nice cool theatre, eating junk food and watching the remake of the Poseidon Adventure. It was a good choice since they both were action film junkies and enjoyed it thoroughly.

Urs was in the mood for Thai food when they came out and they drove to one he knew, parked and spent a couple of hours talking and eating enormous amounts of food. Urs drank some imported beer with his meal but Cat refused anything, saying she had lost her taste for wine for a while.

Celeste and Claude were already in bed when they arrived back at the house, so Urs carried the parcels to the door and said good night.

Cat looked at him and sighed. He was so incredibly gorgeous yet so careful to keep himself in check, limiting his touches to hand holding and tender hugs, his arm often around her shoulders. She found herself anticipating what it would be like to have him caress her, to run his hands over her skin, to rest her mouth against his neck and taste his skin. She shivered at the though, not from fear…. Fear was not something this man caused in her, not any more.

He held his hands out to her and she came to him quickly, smiling and wrapping her arms around his waist, lifting her face to his.

“You’ve been very patient with me, Urs. I know this is hard on you. I can feel how aroused you get sometimes when we kiss and I’m sorry. If you want to walk away, I’ll understand, I won’t be happy but I will understand.”

He caressed her hair and hugged her to him. “I can wait, Kitty. I’m not going anywhere…except home to bed, alone. Sweet dreams, Little One.” He kissed her gently, deepened the touch when she opened to him, sucked on her lips and held her face while he took from her, put her away from him with a moan and left.

It was a couple of minutes before Cat could move to enter the house. She watched him drive off, wanted to run after the car but knew that she wasn’t quite ready to let all her defenses down yet, so she picked up the parcels and went in the house, like Urs, to a lonely bed.

**

He picked her up one afternoon from an Ashram were she had gone to meditate with the monks. She was gowned in a long flowing blue cotton robe and had a covering over her hair but looked lovely, almost ethereal he thought when he helped her into the car.

She was quiet on the drive home, seemed lost in the thoughts that being with the monks had created, but the sadness was gone. She smiled tenderly at him and lay her hand on his thigh as he drove.

“You look very handsome,” she said with a smile that melted his heart and she reached up to loosen his tie, just a bit.

“There…suave and handsome, but content with your masculinity.”

“Careful…I can feel my ego inflating.”

She laughed.

“It’s one of the things I like about you, Urs. You really have no idea how much appeal you have.”

“One of the things? Does that mean there is something else? Like my addiction to PB and J for instance?”

He grinned and she had the most intense urge to kiss the dimples that appeared in his cheeks.

“Oh, that’s way down on the list…and it’s a very long list.”

**

They pulled up in front of the two floor brick house, a little patch of garden at the front that extended around the side with climbing roses wandering over the bricks and on an arbor over the door. There was a large building to one side that seemed to be a garage and workshop, again neatly maintained, the entire place looking lived in and loved.

He met Claude and Celeste in the entry, Claude a tall, slightly paunchy older man with twinkling eyes that reminded Urs of Steve in a good mood, though this man was bigger, more bearlike, a happy bear with a solid grip, somehow not at all sickly and Urs had the feeling that the illness had been a ruse to get Cat out in the world again.

Celeste was very petite, her hair gracefully going grey at the temples, very French looking and stylish even dressed casually, her voice still heavily accented even after years of living in the UK. She kissed Urs on both cheeks, as was her custom, and took his hand to lead him into the Lounge.

Urs already wore his Armani tux for the event tonight and he waited with Claude and Celeste while Cat changed, prepared to face a quiz about his intentions but they were very polite and welcoming and soon he was at ease.

Urs remarked on the garden and learned that it was Claude who was the gardener. He was invited out for a closer look and walked with Claude who was very proud of his roses and, Urs suspected, wanted a few minutes alone with his charge’s friend.

“Claude, can I ask you something about Cat’s past?” Claude stared at him then nodded.

“She has terrible nightmares….no, we don’t spend the night together, but when she naps or on the plane and it’s obvious…she has shadows under her eyes a lot, has lost weight….until recently she kept a wall of ice between us…..who is Gerard?”

Claude motioned to a garden bench and they sat down while the older man got his thoughts organized.

“You’re very perceptive, Lad, and I wouldn’t say anything but since she met you Cat is different, more like her old self. I believe you’re good for her …and to her.

“About 6 years ago, Cat dated a young fellow named Gerard Buchanan, a musician with a group we did the wardrobe for. Nice enough chap but I didn’t trust him, especially with Cat…..she was so socially young, inexperienced. Still you can’t chose your child’s friends and though she knew how I felt she kept seeing him. Something happened, I don’t know what, I can only guess that it was pretty bad. She went out with him one night, supposedly to a party and we didn’t hear anything from her for a week. We phoned, tried to find out where they had gone, even spoke to the police but there was nothing, no sign of either of them. On the eighth day I got an e.mail from her saying she was fine, was at a convent in France for some rest and meditation and would call when she could.

“Well you can imagine how that gob-smacked me and I started some wheels rolling, found out that she had gone to an old friend who happens to be a priest and asked for help. He wouldn’t tell me much, just that she was barefoot, bloody, dirty and terrified, like the survivor of a disaster…..he suggested a retreat and so she was indeed in a convent, not as a nun but as a guest. We waited and after a month she phoned from Nepal, said that she was fine, and again would be out of touch for a while. We weren’t worried about the finances since Steve had invested what she got from her parents and she had a tidy sum available. The nuns took care of getting her a new passport and her debit card since she had arrived on the priest’s door step with nothing. It might actually have been better if she was broke and had to come home.

“ For nearly 3 years we heard little from her, just the odd e.mail from various places then one day she came home, thin, pale but seemed more or less at peace with whatever had happened. She went back to work, had a paper that said she was a qualified medic and Rapid UK took her on… when she got the Malaria the second time and had to be off, she was going mental being idle so I took her back into the business, she’s good at it, has worked with me off and on since she was about 13. She was living like a hermit, just going out to work, exercising and doing that Martial arts stuff she practices, living in her music the rest of the time, so I got ‘sick’ and asked her to take over.

“This is kind of a long answer to your question but the bottom line is, something happened between her and that Gerard and I don’t know what, though I can guess some of it. I just know that now, since she met you, she’s the most like our darling old Cat that she’s been for all these years.”

Urs sat for a minute digesting what Claude had said then replied. “Thank you for telling me. Cat is very important to me, I guess you can see that. I’m hoping that I can help her battle whatever demons he created in her life. She deserves to be happy and loved… I love her and want her to be with me.”

He felt a surge run through him as he realized what he had just declared to this father figure in Cat’s life but knew without a doubt to be true. He was in love with Cat and it felt right. He grinned at Claude and shook his head in wonder, laughed and admitted what had just happened.

“I just realized, now as we were speaking. I’m not just attracted ….I’m in love with her. For weeks we’ve fought like cat and dog and now I have no doubts. God, what a fool I’ve been.”

Claude laughed and clapped him on the back. “Welcome to the club, Lad. I was the same with Celeste…took me a while to finally admit it but now I wonder how I ever lived without her….and she can still turn my guts to jelly with just one look.”

They went back in the house and found that Cat was ready.

Tonight was the opening of a group called Bond at Prince Albert Hall, a formal affair that Il Divo had been asked to attend and Urs had asked Cat to be his date. The first sight of her took his breath away.

She had dressed in a long emerald green silk column that floated over her lush figure, a jewel collar with bare shoulders and back, diamond and emerald earrings glistening at her ears and her hair piled up to cascade like a gilded waterfall past her shoulders. With high heels on she came up to his chin and looked delicate and stunningly beautiful. She carried a tiny silver purse that Urs took and dropped into an inside pocket, they said good night to the older couple and he took her arm to escort her to the car.

Before he started the engine, Urs turned to her and asked “Do you have makeup on?”

Cat hesitated, not sure why he asked but answered anyway. “Only on my eyes….why?”

“I didn’t want to mess it up but I have to kiss you.” and he gently took her in his arms and placed his mouth tenderly on hers, touching her lips with his tongue, entering when she moaned and opened to him. She ran her fingers into his hair, holding his mouth on hers and returned his kiss with a passion that thrilled him. It took an effort but he managed to release her and move away slightly.

“We have to go, Cat. The guys will be waiting at the flats.” She sighed and smiled, took his hand and just said “Drive one handed,” then laughed when he smiled and lay their clasped hands on his thigh.

The limo was already there when they arrived at the flats and David and Seb just coming out of the doors, holding them open for Gerry who looked stunning in a shimmering white gown with tiny diamante straps. Carlos beamed at them as they parked Urs’ car and joined their friends, clearly very proud of his beautiful wife.

They sipped on champagne while on the trip to the RAH, a nice perk that Simon had laid on as a ‘Thank you’ for attending the function.

There was a huge crowd around the red carpet when the limo arrived and Il Divo stepped out, accompanied by Cat and Geraldine, David and Seb having chosen to go stag. Urs kept Cat by his side, though she had expressed worry that his fans would be unhappy, and the photographers snapped pictures like crazy. Some of the fans called out to them and the men signed and smiled while Cat watched from a few feet away, until Urs took her hand again and urged her to stay with him.

The fans seemed delighted to see Urs with a beautiful woman, and many asked if they could take pictures, wanted to know who she was and if Cat was his girlfriend. He just laughed and smiled, dodged answering and let them take all the pictures they wanted since they would anyway. They answered questions from some of the reporters along the carpet, Urs introduced Cat as his ‘friend’ and ignored more pointed questions, politely but firmly.

Then at last they were inside and nearly headed for their seats when Cat saw Mark standing a few feet away watching them. Cat had her arm through his and Urs felt her stiffen, followed her gaze and glared at Mark. The man had the gall to come up to them, smiling, knowing that neither Urs nor Cat would cause a scene in this public place.

With a confidence that surprised him Cat nodded to Mark and spoke pleasantly though the warmth of her remark never reached her eyes.

“Mark, how nice to see you. I’m sure you remember Urs. I believe you met at Steve’s party in L.A.”

The two men nodded to each other and she could feel the anger Urs was suppressing though to the casual observer he was calm and smiling slightly.

“Yes, nice to see you too. Perhaps we can get together for a glass of wine sometime soon,” Mark said with a phony smile.

Urs leaned a bit closer to the shorter man and murmured just loud enough for him to hear.

“Looking forward to it. Just tell us what rock you’re living under so we can find you. We have something to finish.” He smiled and urged Cat on, leaving Mark to wonder just how serious the singer was and thinking that his brazenness had maybe not been a good idea.

Urs looked down at Cat and saw that she was smiling. “You alright?” he asked softly and was relieved to find that the tension and slight tremble he had felt when they first saw Mark had passed. She looked up at him and grinned. “Perfect,” was all she needed to say and he squeezed her hand as they passed down the hall into the box reserved for them.

**

After the show they all went back stage to congratulate the Bond women. Hayley spotted Cat right away and rushed across the dressing room to hug her.

“Where have you been? We tried to get in touch with you but you had vanished. No-one was able to find you and we had to get permission from Steve Martin to do your arrangement of Carnivale. What did you think?”

Cat laughed and told them how much she enjoyed it and to change the focus introduced the Il Divo men.

“So nice to meet you. We’re all big fans. Is Cat working on arrangements for you?” Hayley said looking at them all but clearly centering on David.

“Maybe in the future but now she’s taking her uncle’s place as Wardrobe mistress.” David smiled at all the women and gave Cat a questioning look. “We’re never sure what talents she is going to surprise us with. Outstanding performance tonight, Ladies.”

Hayley laughed and hugged Cat. “Some things never change. When we took violin lessons together, a million years ago it seems, you never wanted to be first violin. I can remember you purposely botching a track just so the maestro wouldn’t make you solo.”

Cat was embarrassed but smiled and told the girls how much she loved their performance, steered the conversation to the plans they had for the future and listened quietly while they all talked non stop. The crowd at the dressing room doors was getting impatient so the Il Divo group excused themselves, refused to sign autographs saying that it was Bond’s night not theirs and made their escape.

They had reservations at a swanky Chinese place in Soho for a late dinner, another photo op but this time with food so they were happy. Cat spoke to the staff in Chinese, Mandarin she told the men, and taught them a few phrases so they could be polite. The owner was so impressed he sent over several special dishes, on the house.

By the time they had finished the hearty meal and were back in the limo it was nearly 2 a.m. and since it was on the way the driver stopped in Chelsea to drop the Divos off first. Seb, Carlos and Gerry and David bid Cat good night and disappeared in the building leaving Urs and Cat alone for a few minutes to say good night.

He held his arms out to her and she went into them willingly, met his passion with her own when he kissed her and sighed when he stopped and just held her close.

“Stay with me tonight, Cat. I want to sleep with you beside me, wake to see your face when I open my eyes.” His words were soft and whispered in her ear, his breath warm and making her shiver.

He felt a slight tension in her as she leaned back to look in his eyes and he stroked his hand lightly over her cheek.

“I promise nothing will happen that you don’t want to happen. Trust me, Cat. Stay with me.”

She leaned into him and whispered with her lips barely touching his.

“Yes.”