Effanbee
The Fly
Free Falling
Chapter 3
Morning, and Bono sleeping so soundly I had to check he was still breathing. I’ll leave him here, sleep is a great healer, I thought, but spent some time just looking at Bono, loving every line of his face, every inch of his body.
Eventually I managed to tear myself away from him and went to start the day. I brought the horses in from the paddock and spent a happy hour with them, telling them all that had happened in the mad way you do when there’s no-one else around. Jack and Shadow huffed and snorted in the appropriate places and told me I should be riding today and not messing around with Bono.
‘Good call, guys,’ I told them. ‘I’ll just leave a note for Bono, telling him where I am.’ Jack rolled his eyes and yawned expressively.
On the way back to the house I noticed the hibiscus bushes were blooming and carefully took the most perfect, scarlet flower to leave on the pillow for Bono to wake up to.
Then off with Jack, riding across the ridge to see what the sea was doing. There were a few clouds building up on the horizon, the scent of far-off rain on the wind.
Returning through the paddock, I saw Bono out on the front deck. He waved and I waved back just as Jack saw an invisible monster behind the hedge. The horse went one way and I went the other, landing with a thump that knocked all the breath out of me.
Bono came belting across the paddock, skidding to a halt beside me. ‘Jesus Roo, are you hurt?’ he panted. ‘Don’t move, you might have broken something …’
‘I’m … O … K’ I gasped. ‘Just … winded.’
Poor Bono looked so anxious. ‘Stay there. I’ll call an ambulance …’
‘God, no!’ I said in alarm, getting my breath back. ‘Really, Bono, it was just a little tumble. Look, I can move my arms and legs, everything’s working fine.’
Bono looked relieved. He helped me sit up then sat back on his heels, watching me closely.
‘What?’ Perhaps it was shock, but I got the helpless giggles. ‘What is it, Bono? Lord, that was funny. I’ve never seen you move so fast.’
‘I was worried about you,’ said Bono, looking hurt. ‘You flew about six feet and then just lay there.’
Seeing him look so wounded dried up the giggles fast. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said humbly. ‘You were concerned and I shouldn’t have laughed.’
Bono moved closer and hugged me carefully. ‘As long as you’re alright,’ he said, then grinned as he saw the funny side of it. Jack wandered over to us and stood looking apologetic.
‘It’s OK, big fella,’ I said to the horse. Bono helped me up, took Jack’s reins and we made our way back to the yard. Bono insisted I should go sit down while he attended to the horse and made us tea.
‘You’re a wonderful man,’ I told him as he handed me a hot cup of tea. ‘Thanks for taking care of me.’
‘Well, what was I to do? Stand there and watch, or do nothing?’ Bono said acidly.
I blinked, taken aback by his caustic comment. He seemed quite shaken by what, for me, was just part of my life, getting the occasional bumps and bruises.
Bono sat down by me and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Sorry, Roo,’ he said. ‘That was out of order. I need to get my brain in gear again.’
‘It’s OK, Bono,’ I said, trying to pass the whole thing off lightly. ‘Look, I’m going to clean myself up. Maybe there’s someone you’d like to call that could help you start sorting things out. Maybe Edge? I don’t know, anyway, I’ll leave you in peace.’ I headed for the bathroom, trying not to limp. I suspected I would have some spectacular bruises and I saw in the bathroom mirror that a fair bit of skin was missing from my back.
‘Shit,’ I muttered to my reflection. ‘This is not going well, you’re just adding to his problems. You are one useless woman.’
I splashed into the bath, seriously considering drowning as an option. Angry with myself and feeling totally out-of-sorts, I mentally attacked Bono’s problems from all angles. Realised I had no idea how to solve them, they were way beyond me. Bono had to find his own way, all I could do was give him support. It made me grumpier than ever and I sulked until the bathwater went cold.
Grumps gave way to a mild case of the blues as I dressed. I slunk away to the kitchen, avoiding the deck where Bono was talking on the phone. At least I can feed him, I thought. I can do that much. I fiddled around in the kitchen putting some food together, good wholesome stuff for extra brain-power.
I took a tray out to Bono, not wanting to interrupt him, and retired to my office, closing the door behind me. I pulled a book from the shelves at random. Thomas Hardy’s Tess. Gratefully, I lost myself in the story of real hardship and injustice.
*****
Much later, Bono came in quietly. I could see some of his old energy had returned, it seemed his conversations had gone well. I smiled at him cautiously.
Bono sat down with me on the little couch, lifting my legs and placing them across his lap. ‘That was good,’ he said. ‘I talked to all the guys, told them where I was. Larry’s handling all the business side, bless him, though he bent my ear well and truly.’ Bono took my hand and looked into my eyes. ‘I need to ask a big favour, Roo. I’ll understand if you say no.’
I raised my eyebrows, waiting to hear what he had to say.
‘You see,’ said Bono awkwardly, ‘We, the band, we need to get together and talk. And I thought, well, it would be good if we could do that here, on neutral ground, sometime on the next couple of weeks.’
‘Good grief,’ I said quietly. ‘A sort of summit meeting?’
‘Sort of,’ said Bono. ‘I know it’s a big ask.’
I thought about it. It wasn’t really a big deal for me, it would be great to see everyone again, even if it was in a serious situation. Bono waited patiently, looking hopeful. I tried to think objectively but found it impossible to deny Bono anything.
‘I think it would be a fine thing to do,’ I said, and Bono’s face lit up with a huge smile. He leaned over to kiss me, his hands on my back. I closed my eyes, blissful sensation of Bono’s lips, the taste of him … I made a muffled yelp as Bono touched the sore place on my back. Bono jumped back as if he’d been shot.
‘What? What did I do?’
Damn and blast, I cursed in my head. ‘Just a bit of a scrape there, nothing to worry about,’ I tried to reassure him.
‘Let me see.’
‘No.’
‘No? You’re saying no to me?’
‘No, no, no. It’s ugly.’
‘For heaven’s sake, woman. Turn round and let me see,’ Bono commanded.
Reluctantly, I turned round and pulled my shirt up. Bono gave a low whistle. ‘You’re missing about a yard of skin there, Roo. Got anything to put on it?’
‘Bathroom, top shelf,’ I muttered.
‘Stay there.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Bono returned and applied a soothing cream to my back with gentle fingers. I had to admit this was quite a nice feeling. Very nice, actually.
‘I’ll smell like a chemist’s shop.’
‘Stop bloody moaning and let me take care of you for once,’ said Bono, sounding amused.
‘Don’t like being taken care of,’ I grumped.
‘Yes you do,’ argued Bono, his hands wandering a bit. ‘Admit it, you do, don’t you?’ He brushed his lips over the back of my neck, tickling.
‘Maybe,’ I replied, weakening.
Bono was unbuttoning my shirt, sliding it off my shoulders. ‘Be honest, now,’ he whispered in my ear.
‘OK, OK,’ I laughed. ‘You take care of me very well.’
‘Do I?’ Bono was now examining the bruises decorating my side.
‘For a man of your age,’ I teased him.
‘Would you rather have some callow youth, then?’
‘Not on your sweet life,’ I said seriously.
‘Perhaps I should just shuffle off to the old folks’ home.’
‘What, in the middle of seducing me in my weakened state?’
‘Well, maybe not just yet …’
*****
We lost ourselves, Bono and I. Snipped out a whole sheaf of pages from our life stories and rewrote ourselves. Built a fantasy world, where love had no boundaries and nothing else existed.
A time of exploration, a time of learning. We walked for miles, in silence or in deep debate, in sun and showers. We were frequently overwhelmed, our need imperative and impervious to external influence. A time of discovery, peeling back the layers, stripping away all the extraneous coating until our true selves were revealed.
Bono, playful and laughing gleefully as he carried me into the sea to find out that making love in the ocean was challenging but not impossible, as long as the waves weren’t too strong.
Watching him, childlike in his fascination with the natural world, so abundant in its ceaseless cycle of life and death.
Learning, under protest, that listening to opera and Frank Sinatra could be enjoyable. This due to Bono shutting himself in my office and downloading hours of the stuff. Then luring me onto the sofa and pinning me there until I admitted the errors of my ways.
We were children, for a little while, living as children do, from day to day and with no thought of consequences. Inevitably the time would come when we would have to grow up and face reality.
But not yet, we told each other. The words we all plead at some point, when faced with ending a time of great gladness, or our own final ending. ‘Just a little longer. Just a little more time …’
Chapter 3
Morning, and Bono sleeping so soundly I had to check he was still breathing. I’ll leave him here, sleep is a great healer, I thought, but spent some time just looking at Bono, loving every line of his face, every inch of his body.
Eventually I managed to tear myself away from him and went to start the day. I brought the horses in from the paddock and spent a happy hour with them, telling them all that had happened in the mad way you do when there’s no-one else around. Jack and Shadow huffed and snorted in the appropriate places and told me I should be riding today and not messing around with Bono.
‘Good call, guys,’ I told them. ‘I’ll just leave a note for Bono, telling him where I am.’ Jack rolled his eyes and yawned expressively.
On the way back to the house I noticed the hibiscus bushes were blooming and carefully took the most perfect, scarlet flower to leave on the pillow for Bono to wake up to.
Then off with Jack, riding across the ridge to see what the sea was doing. There were a few clouds building up on the horizon, the scent of far-off rain on the wind.
Returning through the paddock, I saw Bono out on the front deck. He waved and I waved back just as Jack saw an invisible monster behind the hedge. The horse went one way and I went the other, landing with a thump that knocked all the breath out of me.
Bono came belting across the paddock, skidding to a halt beside me. ‘Jesus Roo, are you hurt?’ he panted. ‘Don’t move, you might have broken something …’
‘I’m … O … K’ I gasped. ‘Just … winded.’
Poor Bono looked so anxious. ‘Stay there. I’ll call an ambulance …’
‘God, no!’ I said in alarm, getting my breath back. ‘Really, Bono, it was just a little tumble. Look, I can move my arms and legs, everything’s working fine.’
Bono looked relieved. He helped me sit up then sat back on his heels, watching me closely.
‘What?’ Perhaps it was shock, but I got the helpless giggles. ‘What is it, Bono? Lord, that was funny. I’ve never seen you move so fast.’
‘I was worried about you,’ said Bono, looking hurt. ‘You flew about six feet and then just lay there.’
Seeing him look so wounded dried up the giggles fast. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said humbly. ‘You were concerned and I shouldn’t have laughed.’
Bono moved closer and hugged me carefully. ‘As long as you’re alright,’ he said, then grinned as he saw the funny side of it. Jack wandered over to us and stood looking apologetic.
‘It’s OK, big fella,’ I said to the horse. Bono helped me up, took Jack’s reins and we made our way back to the yard. Bono insisted I should go sit down while he attended to the horse and made us tea.
‘You’re a wonderful man,’ I told him as he handed me a hot cup of tea. ‘Thanks for taking care of me.’
‘Well, what was I to do? Stand there and watch, or do nothing?’ Bono said acidly.
I blinked, taken aback by his caustic comment. He seemed quite shaken by what, for me, was just part of my life, getting the occasional bumps and bruises.
Bono sat down by me and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Sorry, Roo,’ he said. ‘That was out of order. I need to get my brain in gear again.’
‘It’s OK, Bono,’ I said, trying to pass the whole thing off lightly. ‘Look, I’m going to clean myself up. Maybe there’s someone you’d like to call that could help you start sorting things out. Maybe Edge? I don’t know, anyway, I’ll leave you in peace.’ I headed for the bathroom, trying not to limp. I suspected I would have some spectacular bruises and I saw in the bathroom mirror that a fair bit of skin was missing from my back.
‘Shit,’ I muttered to my reflection. ‘This is not going well, you’re just adding to his problems. You are one useless woman.’
I splashed into the bath, seriously considering drowning as an option. Angry with myself and feeling totally out-of-sorts, I mentally attacked Bono’s problems from all angles. Realised I had no idea how to solve them, they were way beyond me. Bono had to find his own way, all I could do was give him support. It made me grumpier than ever and I sulked until the bathwater went cold.
Grumps gave way to a mild case of the blues as I dressed. I slunk away to the kitchen, avoiding the deck where Bono was talking on the phone. At least I can feed him, I thought. I can do that much. I fiddled around in the kitchen putting some food together, good wholesome stuff for extra brain-power.
I took a tray out to Bono, not wanting to interrupt him, and retired to my office, closing the door behind me. I pulled a book from the shelves at random. Thomas Hardy’s Tess. Gratefully, I lost myself in the story of real hardship and injustice.
*****
Much later, Bono came in quietly. I could see some of his old energy had returned, it seemed his conversations had gone well. I smiled at him cautiously.
Bono sat down with me on the little couch, lifting my legs and placing them across his lap. ‘That was good,’ he said. ‘I talked to all the guys, told them where I was. Larry’s handling all the business side, bless him, though he bent my ear well and truly.’ Bono took my hand and looked into my eyes. ‘I need to ask a big favour, Roo. I’ll understand if you say no.’
I raised my eyebrows, waiting to hear what he had to say.
‘You see,’ said Bono awkwardly, ‘We, the band, we need to get together and talk. And I thought, well, it would be good if we could do that here, on neutral ground, sometime on the next couple of weeks.’
‘Good grief,’ I said quietly. ‘A sort of summit meeting?’
‘Sort of,’ said Bono. ‘I know it’s a big ask.’
I thought about it. It wasn’t really a big deal for me, it would be great to see everyone again, even if it was in a serious situation. Bono waited patiently, looking hopeful. I tried to think objectively but found it impossible to deny Bono anything.
‘I think it would be a fine thing to do,’ I said, and Bono’s face lit up with a huge smile. He leaned over to kiss me, his hands on my back. I closed my eyes, blissful sensation of Bono’s lips, the taste of him … I made a muffled yelp as Bono touched the sore place on my back. Bono jumped back as if he’d been shot.
‘What? What did I do?’
Damn and blast, I cursed in my head. ‘Just a bit of a scrape there, nothing to worry about,’ I tried to reassure him.
‘Let me see.’
‘No.’
‘No? You’re saying no to me?’
‘No, no, no. It’s ugly.’
‘For heaven’s sake, woman. Turn round and let me see,’ Bono commanded.
Reluctantly, I turned round and pulled my shirt up. Bono gave a low whistle. ‘You’re missing about a yard of skin there, Roo. Got anything to put on it?’
‘Bathroom, top shelf,’ I muttered.
‘Stay there.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Bono returned and applied a soothing cream to my back with gentle fingers. I had to admit this was quite a nice feeling. Very nice, actually.
‘I’ll smell like a chemist’s shop.’
‘Stop bloody moaning and let me take care of you for once,’ said Bono, sounding amused.
‘Don’t like being taken care of,’ I grumped.
‘Yes you do,’ argued Bono, his hands wandering a bit. ‘Admit it, you do, don’t you?’ He brushed his lips over the back of my neck, tickling.
‘Maybe,’ I replied, weakening.
Bono was unbuttoning my shirt, sliding it off my shoulders. ‘Be honest, now,’ he whispered in my ear.
‘OK, OK,’ I laughed. ‘You take care of me very well.’
‘Do I?’ Bono was now examining the bruises decorating my side.
‘For a man of your age,’ I teased him.
‘Would you rather have some callow youth, then?’
‘Not on your sweet life,’ I said seriously.
‘Perhaps I should just shuffle off to the old folks’ home.’
‘What, in the middle of seducing me in my weakened state?’
‘Well, maybe not just yet …’
*****
We lost ourselves, Bono and I. Snipped out a whole sheaf of pages from our life stories and rewrote ourselves. Built a fantasy world, where love had no boundaries and nothing else existed.
A time of exploration, a time of learning. We walked for miles, in silence or in deep debate, in sun and showers. We were frequently overwhelmed, our need imperative and impervious to external influence. A time of discovery, peeling back the layers, stripping away all the extraneous coating until our true selves were revealed.
Bono, playful and laughing gleefully as he carried me into the sea to find out that making love in the ocean was challenging but not impossible, as long as the waves weren’t too strong.
Watching him, childlike in his fascination with the natural world, so abundant in its ceaseless cycle of life and death.
Learning, under protest, that listening to opera and Frank Sinatra could be enjoyable. This due to Bono shutting himself in my office and downloading hours of the stuff. Then luring me onto the sofa and pinning me there until I admitted the errors of my ways.
We were children, for a little while, living as children do, from day to day and with no thought of consequences. Inevitably the time would come when we would have to grow up and face reality.
But not yet, we told each other. The words we all plead at some point, when faced with ending a time of great gladness, or our own final ending. ‘Just a little longer. Just a little more time …’