Loud Like Love

Chapter Twelve: Bosco

Dave wanted to go home. He finished his cider and went looking for Alan again. The moment he found him, however, he spotted Matt, who came out of the gents' with Nick draped over his shoulder.

'Alan!' he called. 'I need to get him outside, could you go backstage and get my bass and his guitar, please?'

'Shit, what happened?' Alan asked. 'Is he okay?'

'Yeah. Just really pissed.'

Dave swallowed, and then the practical part of his mind took control. 'Small wonder, he just knocked back about five drinks in as many minutes. Alan, let's go get the instruments.' He watched Matt half carry Nick outside and then headed backstage with Alan. 'Fuck . . . This is my fault.'

'How do you figure?'

'I should have just gone home . . .'

They found Stuart backstage, hoisting his cymbal bag onto his back. 'Where's Matt and Nick?' he asked, when he saw them.

'Outside,' said Alan. 'Nick's pissed.'

Dave was surprised to see genuine concern pass over Stuart's otherwise stoic face. 'Fuck, not again . . . All right, I just need a quick chat with front of house. Take those and go outside.' He nodded towards Nick's tweed Fender case and Matt's gig bag.

Alan and Dave did as they were told and went outside, where they found Matt on a corner, holding Nick up while the latter was violently sick into a bin. 'That's good, Nick. Good lad. Get it out,' Matt was saying when they approached.

'I'm so sorry,' said Dave. 'Shit, I shouldn't have come, I should have gone home . . .'

'It really isn't your fault, you know,' said Alan. 'He would have gotten wankered anyway.'

Matt nodded, rubbing Nick's back in large soothing circles. 'Yeah, he's been doing it a lot lately.'

Nick seemed to have emptied himself. 'I'm sorry,' he croaked. 'Fuck . . .'

'Where's Stu?' asked Matt, just as Stuart stepped out of the club. He saw them and rushed over.

'Do you want to take him to my place again?' he asked.

Again? When had they had to take Nick to Stuart's place rather than home? Had this happened before? Did this happen often? Dave was full of questions it was impossible to ask just then.

Matt shook his head. 'No, we should probably get him home. Zoë'll worry, and she'll know either way if we call her.'

'I'll get us a taxi,' said Dave automatically.

Matt draped Nick's arm over his shoulders and put his arm around his waist. 'Nick, can you walk? You think you're done puking?'

'Yeah,' Nick slurred. 'Wanna sleep . . .'

Dave stepped up to the kerb, looking down the street for a cab. He heard the conversation continue.

'Should I come with you?'

'Don't worry about it, Stuart. You go home. We'll take care of him.'

'If you're sure . . .'

Dave waved down a taxi and turned around to see Stuart comb back Nick's hair with his fingers and press a kiss to his temple. It didn't look like a romantic gesture so much as one of friendship and concern, but it was strange to see. Stuart had never struck Dave as the sort to show physical affection. In fact, Dave had never liked Stuart, had thought him indifferent to everyone and everything around him. Clearly, that indifference did not extend to Nick.

'Feel better, okay?' he was saying, and Nick nodded groggily. 'Goodnight.' He turned to the others, made his farewells, and was off.

Matt hoisted Nick into the backseat of the cab and got in next to him. Automatically and without thinking, after helping Alan get the instruments into the trunk of the car, Dave got in on the other side, so he and Matt had Nick between them. Alan sat in the passenger seat in the front and gave the driver the address.