Daylight

Pet’s POV

The bunch of us squeezed into a rental car and drove out to the hotel. I had to hand it to Joe and his manager: the place was nice, not a roach motel at all.

The girls showered and changed clothes. They refused Joe’s offer of a ride back to the bus, taking a cab instead. I decided to wait till later to bathe, thinking it would be a waste now with the heat. I also made sure, after the girls had gone, that they hadn’t left any “playthings” behind for my supposed big night with Joe.

I was relieved to find they apparently hadn’t had time to gift me with anything. Another bullet dodged. It still made me nervous to know I had condoms on me. I suppose, all things considered, that I should've been more nervous if I didn't have them.

I shook my head, trying to clear my brain. This whole thing was giving me a headache.

While Mo, Sal and Tia were cleaning up, Joe and I hung out in the hall, talking.

“So where would you like to eat dinner, since we have the time tonight?” he asked me.
I hadn’t thought much about it. “Not sure,” I answered. “What kind of food do you like?”
His eyes sparkled. “Well, I dunno about you, luv, but I’m up for a good curry, if such a thing can be had in these parts.”
I grinned. “Indian sounds great!” I said, digging out my phone to check out places to go. There were only a couple, so I asked the desk clerk—by luck, a lovely young Indian woman—and she made a recommendation.
We were set…for dinner at least.

Joe’s POV

We managed to make it to the restaurant—it was called Jaipur—with little trouble.

Thank fuck for that navigation thing in the car; I was sure we’d never find the place. It was a bit out of the way, and in one of those bloody “strip malls”, as they call them here, but once inside it was worth the trip. I also made Pet drive, since I wasn’t totally sure I’d remember to stay on the right side of the road.

“I love a curry,” I remarked to Pet as the hostess seated us.
She beamed. “Oh, me too. It just smells great—sort of like a heavy perfume, but in a good way.”
Pet’d changed into a dress before we’d left the hotel. I realised it must’ve been the first time I’d seen her in one offstage since the tour began.
“You look very nice, by the way,” I complimented her.
I think she blushed, but of course it was a bit dark in Jaipur, and so hard to tell.
“Thanks, I-I didn’t really have anything else that’s clean,” she murmured, picking at the sleeve. “We have lots of laundry to do tomorrow….”
“Don’t apologise,” I replied. “You look great. It’s supposed to be a nice thing for me to notice, right?”
She seemed to recover. “Yeah, of course, right. I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said quickly.
Then she hid her face with the menu. “So what looks good to you?” she asked from behind her little wall.
“Everything,” I answered, scanning the menu. The waitress came over, a lovely girl in a sari, and brought us our drinks.

Pet wrinkled her nose at me when she saw what I was drinkin’.
“Problem?” I asked as the waitress poured the beer.
“No,” she said, after the young lady had gone. “I just never got used to beer. Don’t really like it.”
I took a sip. “D’you drink anything?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes, but only when I really don’t have anything to do the next day. I pay for it pretty heavily if I go overboard.”
Too bad. “So what do girl bands do when they’re not on stage?” I wondered.
Petula giggled. “You mean, besides the bikini mud wrestling and pillow fights in our nighties?”

I was just about to take another drink and had to stop meself so’s not to choke.

Pet dissolved in laughter at what must’ve been the expression on me face.

“Oh, come on now,” she chortled, “really, Joe. Haven’t you been around women in your lifetime? You know we don’t all do that shit.”
“Undoubtedly some of you do, Pet, and that’s good enough for me,” I remarked. “But that was quite the picture you sent me. And thanks.”

She chuckled again and drank some tea. “Glad I could help. So tell me about where you guys are from. Have you been friends a long time?”
“Well, Tom and I’ve known Bryan for ages. Glenn we met just a few years ago when we nicked him from another band. Where we’re from…” I left off for a minute, just thinkin’ about Manchester and all we’d left behind this summer. “It’s cold and damp much of the time, the summers can be unbearable—though not as bad as here—and people work too hard for too little money. But that’s the way most places, innit?”
“True enough,” she agreed. “I come from Minnesota, where it’s almost unbearably cold in the winter. People go nuts—they get cabin fever from being inside so much. That’s why lots of them go somewhere warm for the winter. I mean, when you’re a kid, winters like that are amazing. And if you ski, snowboard, all that, then I guess it’s paradise.”
She wrinkled that pretty little nose again. “I loved it when I was a kid, but not so much now. Though some days this summer, I’d gladly trade for some cooler weather. So tell me about your family.”
“Well,” I began, “there’s me and Tom, and three sisters. And Mum and Dad of course.”
She took another drink. “Wow, big family. What did your parents do?”
“Mum worked as a seamstress—she’s very good—and Dad’s an electrician. What about you?”
“There’s just five of us total,” she replied. “I’m the oldest. My sister Frankie—I told you about her—she’s sixteen, and our little brother Sean is eleven. Oh! He plays soccer.”
“You mean football.”
She smiled. “Right, right, football. Call it whatever you like.”
I made like I was offended. “Hey, it’s the biggest sport in the world, luv!”
She rolled her eyes. She was spared from further embarrassment by the arrival of our food.

And what food it was. Our dinner was bloody amazing. And it was a treat to watch Pet devour her food; you’d think nobody’d fed the poor girl in weeks. It was alright, though: I love a girl with an appetite.
“Oh, my God, I think I’m gonna burst,” Pet groaned when she’d finally had enough.
I couldn’t help but to smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl your size eat like that,” I joked. “Not going to have to carry you to the car, am I?”
“No, but a wheelbarrow might be helpful,” she said all sleepy.
“Ah, don’t fall asleep now!” I chided her. “We still have to drive back.”
“Too bad we can’t walk there,” Pet moaned.

After a quick walk round the shops, Pet declared that she felt small enough again to get back in the car and drive us. I noticed, though, that as we got closer to the hotel, she seemed to get more tense. She stopped talking; she gripped the wheel like a lifeline; and she didn’t look at me.

I couldn’t imagine what was on her mind. She couldn’t possibly be nervous.
Could she?