Page 6 of The Devil's Tattoo
Chapter2
Deep down,I almost believed Dee had forgotten to pickmeup.
Deep down, I hopedhehad.
I was draped over my couch, hands over my eyes, silently praying to be left alone. I couldn’t handle this singing thing. I couldn’t handle the thought of standing anywhere else other than in the audience, and we hadn’t even started yet. My guitar sat in its case against the wall, and I swore it was agreeingwithme.
Suddenly, there was thumping on my front door, and Dee was calling out, “Zoe! Rise and shine, baby cakes! I know you’re in there.No usehiding.”
I flung open the door, and he was standing there with his car keys inhishand.
“We’re going to Frank’s,” he said, pushing his way inside and grabbing my guitar case before I couldargue.
I had no choice but to follow him out to the car if I wanted my beloved Epiphone back. Truth was I think I was more afraid of the unknown than actually doing this band thing. I didn’t know how to write music, and I wasn’t sure how it all worked together with other instruments. Epiccluelessness.
Jumping in the car with a second to spare, Dee pulled out into traffic and we headed across town. The sun was shining, and summer was all but over, but the days were still mild. As we drove through suburb after suburb, I couldn’t help playing with the hem of my shirt. Dee glanced over and caught mefidgeting.
“You’re going to be fine,” he said, patting my leg. “We’re all mates, and the only person we’re gonna laugh at is Frank, and he’s usedtoit.”
“I’m not worried about that,” I reassured him. “It’s just the bitafter.”
He knew I meant the whole getting up on stage thing. Melbourne was a big place but small at the same time. Word gotaround.
“You’re going to be great,” he said quietly as we started to climb the West Gate Bridge that linked the west of the city to the CBD. “You shouldn’t worry about what anyone elsethinks.”
“It’s not thateasy,Dee.”
“I know it’s been tough the last two years, but it’s time to get out, Zo. I love you. You know that. I hate to see youlikethis.”
I felt tears prickle in my eyes, and I was thankful I was wearing my aviator sunnies with the mirrored fronts. “I know,” Iwhispered.
“I’m doing this for you. I’m shit scared as well, but there’s a time and a place,youknow.”
That stopped me in my tracks. Dee admitting he was nervous? I couldn’t remember ever hearing him say anything like that before, and the fact he was putting himself out there for me warmed my insides. All this time I thought the world had abandoned me, and I’d had Dee all along. Bloody hell, I wasselfish.
“I’m sorry,”Isaid.
“Nothing to besorryfor.”
“Ididn’tmean—”
“Stop it, Zo. If you wanna make it up to me, then just be inmyband.”
“Oh, so now it’syourband?”
He let out a laugh and turned up the radio. Spiderbait’s cover version of ‘Black Betty’ was playing, which was a fast and heavy rock song perfect fordriving.
When the vocals kicked in, we sang in unison all the way to Frank’s, and I felt my uncertainty slipping away. Funny thing about music was it could make you feel better almost always. I found myself hoping deep down that this band would finally see the start of betterthings.
Frank lived in a dilapidated miner’s cottage in Footscray. It backed up to the train line, so every thirty minutes we were overwhelmed with a shaking floor and the sound of a suburban train whooshing by. He was excited to see us when he opened the door and helped bring our gear through the house to a room out back that had been taped up haphazardly with soundproofing. At one end, he had a nice looking drum kit set up. At the other end, there were two old couches where Chris was already sitting, his bass and portable amp leaning againstthewall.
“Hey, Zoe,” he said. “Frank’s been telling me how great you are.” He nodded at myguitarcase.
“Oh?” I asked, giving Frank my best annoyed side-eyeglare.
“So I hear,” he said with a wink, and I knew Dee had been talking me up like I was DaVinci.
“Let’s hear, then,” Chrischippedin.
