‘Autumn Raine!’
The volume of the announcer’s voice shouting her name out almost took her from her seat. Had that been her name? She couldn’t have heard right. It must be a mistake. People all around were looking at her, clapping their hands and raising their glasses. She didn’t know what to do.
‘Autumn, come on! You won! Best International Female Artist, child! You need to get on that stage and get the trophy!’ Tawanda shouted across the table.
She felt lost. What a few months ago had felt close to being assured had felt out of reach after recent events. Now, the audience was cheering and applauding, and some of them had risen to their feet in admiration.
‘Go on, child,’ Tawanda urged.
Autumn stood up and tentatively walked toward two men in tuxedoes who had been guiding winners to the stage all evening. Her feet moved on autopilot. She couldn’t hear, her eyes were blurred against the lights, but somehow, she mounted the steps and received her crystal IMA logo-shaped award from someone who’d once been in The Bold and the Beautiful.
The crowd continued to clap as Autumn looked at the award in her hands, dumbstruck.
Finally, they quieted, and she moved a little closer to the microphone.
‘Well… I don’t really know what to say… um, thank you. It’s been a horrible couple of weeks for me, I…’
She didn’t know if she could do this. The spotlight blazed down on her, made her skin heat up and her head ache. She swallowed and tried to focus.
‘I lost a dear, dear friend. Albert Arthur, better known as Blu-Daddy,’ she said.
There was more applause and whooping, and a photo of Blu-Daddy was displayed on the big screens.
‘But I also lost someone else, someone who meant… so much,’ Autumn continued.
Just thinking about Nathan made her chest swell with pain. She had known real love for such a short time, in such extreme circumstances. The idea of never having that again, never being able to revel in that feeling with regularity like most couples, tore her apart.
‘I lost Nathan Regan. Nathan Regan was the man I loved and… he died trying to protect me. Nathan wasn’t the head of an international software company. He was my bodyguard, and we fell in love.’
On the big screen came a crowd shot, and Autumn could see the people looking up at her, their eyes wide, captive, waiting for whatever she was going to say next.
‘Nathan didn’t write songs like Blu. He didn’t appear on American Idol or Ellen, and as far as I know, he never appeared on the front cover of Hello! magazine. That’s the UK equivalent to the National Enquirer—kind of.’
She stopped to take in air and regroup.
‘What I’m trying to say is that everybody counts, and just because Nathan didn’t get column inches, it doesn’t mean that his death wasn’t important. It was important. It was very important to me because I loved him, and I miss him.’
She broke down. She couldn’t hold it in anymore, and the award presenter put an arm around her, attempting to lead her away from the limelight and off the stage.
‘No, wait… wait a second. I just want to say thank you so much for this award, from the bottom of my heart, I thank everyone who supports me, who downloads my music, who goes to my concerts. You’re all so special.’
Another round of applause and cheers rang out, and Autumn tried with all her might to stop the tears from tracking through her make-up.
‘And finally, I just wanted to say that all the royalties from my latest album will be donated to charity. Fifty per cent will go to the Blu-Daddy Music Foundation that Blu’s wife has set up in his honor, and fifty per cent will go to Help For Heroes. That’s a British charity to help injured servicemen and women. Thank you,’ Autumn finished.
At that announcement, the entire audience was up on their feet cheering the singer as she made her way down from the stage in haste. She hadn’t decided to give her money away for a publicity stunt. She had done it because it was right. Blu had always wanted to create something where under-privileged children had the chance to learn an instrument or get behind a mixing desk. She’d been told he had life insurance that was going to set his wife and children up for life, and it was also enough to start up his foundation. If he was looking down, he’d be smiling that gold-toothed grin.
She didn’t go back to the table. She ran for the outside. She needed that air to hit her, to feel it run over her skin. Once out of the auditorium, she made for the back of the arena, and, before two security men with bulging biceps could stop her, she burst through the set of double doors they were guarding and into the night.
She was out on the street, standing opposite a Taco Bell and a bar called Hank’s. It was raining, but she smiled as she lifted her arms out and embraced the wet weather. She let the rain hit her face, drench her clothes, and soak her to the skin. It felt so good. It felt like she was being baptized, starting something new.
She was the Best International Female Artist, but more importantly, she felt like Claire O’Toole. And right now, Claire O’Toole was who she wanted to be.
Forty-Five
‘United, next to—eight letters, ending in E-R.’
Autumn shook her head
