She could hear noise. Vast, powerful human noise – a roar of life slowly finding rhythm and shape. Becoming a chant.
There was a woman in front of her, towelling her face.
“Thanks,” Nora said, smiling. The woman looked startled, as if she’d just been spoken to by a god.
She recognised a man holding drumsticks. It was Ravi.
His hair was dyed white-blonde and he was dressed in a sharp-cut indigo suit with a bare chest where his shirt should have been.
He looked an entirely different person to the one who had been looking at the music magazines in the newsagent’s in Bedford only yesterday,
or the corporate-looking guy in the blue shirt who had sat watching her do her catastrophic talk in the InterContinental Hotel.
“Ravi,” she said, “you look amazing!” “What?” He hadn’t heard her over the noise, but now she had a different question.
“Where is Joe?” she asked, almost as a shout. Ravi looked momentarily confused, or scared, and Nora braced herself for some terrible truth.
But none came. “The usual, I reckon. Schmoozing it up with the foreign press.”
Nora had no idea what was going on. He seemed to be still part of the band,
but also not in the band enough to be performing on stage with them.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색