spanna
The Fly
Hey everyone. So sorry to keep you waiting for so long for this next part, I was going over it and had to redo a bit. Disclaimer: It's all totally untrue, I'd never wish this situation on anyone least of any of U2. Yadda yadda yadda. .
Chapter Seven
October 3rd 8.30 am
I am woken early by Adam, we have a press conference to do and have to appeal to the public. I’m so nervous, I’ve seen so many mothers and wives do this on the news to appeal for the return of their children or husbands but I don’t know if I can. I say as much to Adam.
‘Grace, you’ll be ok. We’re all doing it too, carry each other eh?’ he says a weak smile on his lips replacing his usual benevolent beam.
I nod pushing my hair out of my face. We leave The Edge’s house and travel in a motorcade down to the Dublin News studio. Screaming fans, shouting journalists like vultures, flashing cameras as we are guided through the crowd. I hold onto Adam’s arm for support and we go into the broadcasting centre. Taken upstairs into a small room where Paul McGuinness sits with U2’s head of PR.
‘Come sit down,’ he says to us so we do ‘now I know this is all terribly hard, but no one must have a go at Brian O Connell or the IRA during the conference.’
‘Fuck me if I can’t say anything against that son of a bitch,’ growls Larry angrily.
‘Larry, it’ll lessen Bono’s chances of…’ he doesn’t finish that sentence but I know he means survival ‘an emotional plea from each of you for Bono’s safe return is good enough, journalists will be throwing questions at each of you but I don’t want you to answer any ok. I also have something to saw with regards to his ransom, I received a letter this morning.’
We nod. Adam takes my hand in his slim brown paw.
Paul reads out a piece of A4 paper:
“We intend to keep Bono as long as it takes. Weeks, months. Whatever. Anyhow, I’ll keep in contact. Brian O Connell
I strangle a sob, Adam tightens the grip on my hand and I take some deep breaths.
‘Now Grace,’ says Paul laying a fatherly hand on my shoulder ‘the journalists are vultures and they’ll be loving all this, just keep as calm as you can but if you can though a little emotion is always good. It’ll appeal more to anyone who might have seen anything or know anything about it because they’ll be able to empathise with your grief.’
‘I can’t just turn on the fucking waterworks like a bloody machine. I can’t be an actress under these circumstances’ I snap more irritably than I mean ‘and I’ll try not to be rude to any of the journalists but if they push my buttons. I’m sorry now if I lose control.’
Paul and the others look surprised at my outburst and I feel guilty.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say genuinely repentant ‘I keep snapping and not meaning it, I just want to know if he’s alright and I’m so, so frightened for him.’
My voice cracks and Adam hugs me close.
‘It’s the stress Grace,’ says Edge ‘we’re all feeling it, I know I’m snappish too but we’re all here for each other, that’s what counts. Come on, let’s feed the vultures and get it over.’
I catch my face in a mirror as we leave the room, I barely put any makeup on and look shattered and worn. I’ve changed in a day, the blood and the life has just been sucked out of me.
I feel sick but that’s nothing unusual, I’ve felt slightly nauseous in the mornings for weeks now. Oh God, no I can’t be, oh shit. Tell myself not to panic which is my gut reaction, try and work out how it could have happened. The Bahamas…of course.
‘Grace, be careful love,’ Larry says frowning at me and gripping my arm firmly as I nearly fall down the stairs.
‘Yes Larry,’ I say softly and we head into the conference room.
All I can think is that I must not lose the baby and stay strong. This shock must not make me miscarry. Just face the room Grace, I feel faintly hysterical at the audience before me but there’s something in me that just tells me to hold on.
Cameras flashing manically, voices yelling as we take our places behind the table that’s set up with microphones and sound equipment. Paul is the first to speak:
‘Bono has been kidnapped and we've just received a note from IRA's deputy head O Connell. It is now more vital than ever that if you saw anything suspicious or have heard anything suspicious to get in contact with police. Bono’s life is possibly at stake, we know the IRA are merciless. Please help us, thank you.’
Larry speaks, his nostrils flaring and his voice quivering.
‘Bono’s a dear mate of mine, I can’t imagine being in a band without him. Besides, only us and his Grace can handle his ego. Let him go O Connell otherwise yer will PAY.’
‘Like Larry said, none of us can imagine being in a band or living without him,’ Edge pleas ‘Please, please O Connell release him and if anyone has the faintest idea as to where he might be, come forward. Thanks very much.’
‘A world without Bono in it would be colourless,’ Adam begins, I smile a little, Adam the wannabe poet ‘we all need colour in our lives and it’d be very grey without him, so bring him back to us unharmed. Thank you.’
I wipe the tears that are falling freely now.
‘I I I’ve been in love with Bono for most of my life,’ I stammer ‘Please Mr O Connell, don’t hurt him.’ I pause and lock my eyes with the TV camera, he might be watching ‘I’m having our baby and it is our baby, not mine. He or she’s going to need their daddy. Bono, I love you.’
The conference is over and as soon as we’re in the limousine, I notice their ashen faces and I feel guilty about the bombshell I dropped back at the conference.
‘Pregnant, Jesus Christ!’ exclaimed Larry ‘why the feck didn’t yer say anything?’
‘I had no idea or at least I only allowed myself to believe it this morning,’ I say truthfully and rub my belly self consciously ‘I haven’t been to the doctor yet, do you think we should go now?’
‘I gave you whiskey last night,’ says Edge remorsefully ‘what if I’d killed the wee bairn?’
‘He or she’s made from tough stuff by all accounts,’ I smile ruefully.
‘Yes we should definitely take you to your doctor,’ says Adam smiling ‘confirm it and everything but let’s get Morleigh. We need another woman at times like this.’
Chapter Seven
October 3rd 8.30 am
I am woken early by Adam, we have a press conference to do and have to appeal to the public. I’m so nervous, I’ve seen so many mothers and wives do this on the news to appeal for the return of their children or husbands but I don’t know if I can. I say as much to Adam.
‘Grace, you’ll be ok. We’re all doing it too, carry each other eh?’ he says a weak smile on his lips replacing his usual benevolent beam.
I nod pushing my hair out of my face. We leave The Edge’s house and travel in a motorcade down to the Dublin News studio. Screaming fans, shouting journalists like vultures, flashing cameras as we are guided through the crowd. I hold onto Adam’s arm for support and we go into the broadcasting centre. Taken upstairs into a small room where Paul McGuinness sits with U2’s head of PR.
‘Come sit down,’ he says to us so we do ‘now I know this is all terribly hard, but no one must have a go at Brian O Connell or the IRA during the conference.’
‘Fuck me if I can’t say anything against that son of a bitch,’ growls Larry angrily.
‘Larry, it’ll lessen Bono’s chances of…’ he doesn’t finish that sentence but I know he means survival ‘an emotional plea from each of you for Bono’s safe return is good enough, journalists will be throwing questions at each of you but I don’t want you to answer any ok. I also have something to saw with regards to his ransom, I received a letter this morning.’
We nod. Adam takes my hand in his slim brown paw.
Paul reads out a piece of A4 paper:
“We intend to keep Bono as long as it takes. Weeks, months. Whatever. Anyhow, I’ll keep in contact. Brian O Connell
I strangle a sob, Adam tightens the grip on my hand and I take some deep breaths.
‘Now Grace,’ says Paul laying a fatherly hand on my shoulder ‘the journalists are vultures and they’ll be loving all this, just keep as calm as you can but if you can though a little emotion is always good. It’ll appeal more to anyone who might have seen anything or know anything about it because they’ll be able to empathise with your grief.’
‘I can’t just turn on the fucking waterworks like a bloody machine. I can’t be an actress under these circumstances’ I snap more irritably than I mean ‘and I’ll try not to be rude to any of the journalists but if they push my buttons. I’m sorry now if I lose control.’
Paul and the others look surprised at my outburst and I feel guilty.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say genuinely repentant ‘I keep snapping and not meaning it, I just want to know if he’s alright and I’m so, so frightened for him.’
My voice cracks and Adam hugs me close.
‘It’s the stress Grace,’ says Edge ‘we’re all feeling it, I know I’m snappish too but we’re all here for each other, that’s what counts. Come on, let’s feed the vultures and get it over.’
I catch my face in a mirror as we leave the room, I barely put any makeup on and look shattered and worn. I’ve changed in a day, the blood and the life has just been sucked out of me.
I feel sick but that’s nothing unusual, I’ve felt slightly nauseous in the mornings for weeks now. Oh God, no I can’t be, oh shit. Tell myself not to panic which is my gut reaction, try and work out how it could have happened. The Bahamas…of course.
‘Grace, be careful love,’ Larry says frowning at me and gripping my arm firmly as I nearly fall down the stairs.
‘Yes Larry,’ I say softly and we head into the conference room.
All I can think is that I must not lose the baby and stay strong. This shock must not make me miscarry. Just face the room Grace, I feel faintly hysterical at the audience before me but there’s something in me that just tells me to hold on.
Cameras flashing manically, voices yelling as we take our places behind the table that’s set up with microphones and sound equipment. Paul is the first to speak:
‘Bono has been kidnapped and we've just received a note from IRA's deputy head O Connell. It is now more vital than ever that if you saw anything suspicious or have heard anything suspicious to get in contact with police. Bono’s life is possibly at stake, we know the IRA are merciless. Please help us, thank you.’
Larry speaks, his nostrils flaring and his voice quivering.
‘Bono’s a dear mate of mine, I can’t imagine being in a band without him. Besides, only us and his Grace can handle his ego. Let him go O Connell otherwise yer will PAY.’
‘Like Larry said, none of us can imagine being in a band or living without him,’ Edge pleas ‘Please, please O Connell release him and if anyone has the faintest idea as to where he might be, come forward. Thanks very much.’
‘A world without Bono in it would be colourless,’ Adam begins, I smile a little, Adam the wannabe poet ‘we all need colour in our lives and it’d be very grey without him, so bring him back to us unharmed. Thank you.’
I wipe the tears that are falling freely now.
‘I I I’ve been in love with Bono for most of my life,’ I stammer ‘Please Mr O Connell, don’t hurt him.’ I pause and lock my eyes with the TV camera, he might be watching ‘I’m having our baby and it is our baby, not mine. He or she’s going to need their daddy. Bono, I love you.’
The conference is over and as soon as we’re in the limousine, I notice their ashen faces and I feel guilty about the bombshell I dropped back at the conference.
‘Pregnant, Jesus Christ!’ exclaimed Larry ‘why the feck didn’t yer say anything?’
‘I had no idea or at least I only allowed myself to believe it this morning,’ I say truthfully and rub my belly self consciously ‘I haven’t been to the doctor yet, do you think we should go now?’
‘I gave you whiskey last night,’ says Edge remorsefully ‘what if I’d killed the wee bairn?’
‘He or she’s made from tough stuff by all accounts,’ I smile ruefully.
‘Yes we should definitely take you to your doctor,’ says Adam smiling ‘confirm it and everything but let’s get Morleigh. We need another woman at times like this.’
omg she's pregnant!
