Page 115 of When We Were Young

‘Yeah…’

‘I have a special birthday surprise for you, Tiffany. Would you like to speak to Reu?’

‘Yes!’ exclaimed the little girl.

A voice in the background was asking, ‘Who is it?’

‘Say it’s Nanny,’ whispered Reu. ‘Mum won’t want to speak to her mother-in-law.’

Emily relayed the message and handed him the receiver.

‘Happy birthday, Tiffy!’ cried Reu, and launched into ‘Happy Birthday’ – the squashed tomatoes and stew version. ‘How are you?… What did you get for your birthday?… You’re so lucky! You must’ve been really good.’

Emily sorted through the coins in her purse, thumbing the European ones into the phone.

Reu was talking like a children’s TV presenter. ‘McDonald’s? Good choice… No, I can’t… I’m sorry, Tiff… I’m in Austria… No, kangaroos live in Australia… I’ll come and see you soon, though, I promise…’

Emily slotted her last few cents into the phone.

‘I miss you, too,’ he was saying as she slipped out of the booth.

She waited outside. When Reu emerged, blinking in the sunlight, his eyes were swimming.

Emily opened her arms, and he fell into her.

She felt him quaking as they stood on the street, people bustling past. Had she made a terrible mistake suggesting he call Tiffany? When at last he pulled away, wiping his nose on his sleeve, he managed two words: ‘Thank you.’

What better place for the final show of the US leg of the tour than the legendary Red Rocks Amphitheatre? Will followed the sound engineer up the corridor to the stage, and as they rounded the corner, the amphitheatre opened out before them. Two colossal sandstone rocks jutted out either side of them, soaring upwards to a point and wrapping the stage in its sculpted wings. Hundreds of steps, seemingly carved out of the rock, rose sharply to the azure sky. He’d seen pictures, but they didn’t do it justice.

As he wheeled slowly around taking in the view, his chest felt like it would burst. Reu was practically bouncing with excitement; Matty’s mouth hung open and Emily let out an awestruck giggle that bounced off the rock. She slipped her arm around his waist, her camera bumping into his ribs as she leant in and whispered, ‘We made it.’

The corridors backstage were lined with photographs of iconic acts that had performed here over the years: The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan, the list went on. And they were about to join that list. Become part of history.

They had time to kill after the sound check, so they hung out in the dressing room, its craggy walls reminding them this was no ordinary venue. Reu relieved the boredom the sameway he always did, by slapping rhythms on a nearby table. The beat reminded Will of ‘Under Pressure’ and he found himself humming the melody. Reu caught his eye, and they both started singing the lyrics at the same time. Each line was more rousing than the last, and soon they had the whole room singing. Roadies, technicians, venue staff – even the guys that brought the catering – were crooning along, the unique acoustics making everyone sound half decent. Reu’s delivery of Freddie Mercury’s nonsense-word scatting had everyone in hysterics. Reu met Will’s gaze, a feverish spark in his eyes as he grinned back at him. A flurry of applause echoed in the space when they finished, and in the silence that followed, Will suddenly felt the enormity of the occasion. It loomed over him like the monoliths outside. His excitement see-sawing into anxiety. What if no one turned up? What if they bombed here, in this stunning location, on this historic stage? What a spectacular failure that would be.

He felt a hand on his. Emily breaking through his thoughts, pulling him out of his seat, a wild look in her eyes. What was that look? It took a moment for him to recognise it, but as soon as he did, he was up and following. She led him down a corridor to a storeroom. She shut the door behind him and stood with her back against it, her eyes locked on his. He loved it when she got like this.

He took her hard and fast up against a speaker, the perfect height for her to wriggle her short denim skirt up and wrap her legs around him. The warm soft wetness of her, the tangle of her fingers in his hair, the soft moan in his ear when she came – she made him feel invincible.

That night, when they rounded the corner onto the stage, they were met with a wall of people stretching up as far as you could see. Their cheers bounced off the rocks, lit up in red and gold against the night sky.

Will waded through the smoky haze to pick up his guitar and stepped up to the microphone.

‘Hello Red Rocks!’ he yelled, and the applause was like thunder.

They played their set; the same one they’d played every night for weeks, but it seemed different. Elevated. Will’s voice was strong, reaching all the highs and lows he asked of it. Reu’s drumming rang out sharp and clear. Even Matty’s bass lines thrummed along harmoniously.

Spotlights swept over the crowd, illuminating thousands of bodies bouncing in unison, arms aloft. Picking out a line of trees high on the rock, dancing in the warm breeze. Despite his earlier wobble, this was the easiest show he’d ever played. He didn’t even need to think. Every moment was utterly effortless. This must be what athletes meant when they said they were ‘in the zone’. This setting, this crowd, this moment – it felt spiritual somehow.

The applause for their final song was so loud it reverberated in his chest. He felt like a god. Euphoria filled his body, tingling in his fingers and threatening to lift him into the air. He’d tried speed once, but all it did was make him talk too much. This natural high was unbeatable. Addictive.

This place had been sacred to the Native American tribes who’d lived here. It was sacred to him too now.

When the lights went out, the sky was black velvet studded with diamonds.

Backstage, Reu was a jittery ball of energy. ‘That was fucking awesome!’

Will chuckled. ‘Yes, it was.’