Bleed To Love Her (B.N)

April 1987

“Oh I...

I want to be with you everywhere

Oh I...

I want to be with you everywhere.”

Lindsey, Mick and John all sat in the control room of Lindsey’s home studio, nodding their heads to Christine pitch perfect vocals. Despite whatever enjoyment they were experiencing, the four of them couldn’t help but be constantly aware of the missing link in their chain: Stevie. “That was great, Chris. Take a break, join us for a drink and then we’ll get started again.” Lindsey said over the speakers, gesturing for her to leave the iso booth and join them. Christine walked back into the control room, taking a seat beside John. Mick handed her a glass of wine and a cigarette. “Thank you, Mick love.” Christine said, taking the glass and cigarette. Mick sat by Lindsey at the control desk, leaving Christine and John to chat. Mick watched as Lindsey tried to keep himself busy, ignoring everyone else in the room. “Come on old chap, cheer up.” Mick said, patting Lindsey gently on the shoulder. Lindsey jumped as Mick’s touch, forgetting there were others in the room with him. “Didn’t mean to scare you, mate.” Mick said apologetically. Lindsey smiled faintly. “It’s fine, Mick. I’m just… In a world of my own.” “You’re wondering where Stevie is, aren’t you?” John asked, taking a drink of his cup of tea. Lindsey eyed the tea. “No booze, John?” He asked, changing the subject. John shook his head. “We all know – some better than others – that I’m not a very nice drunk. I’m trying to cut down on my alcohol intake.” “How’s that working out for you, mate?” Mick asked, taking a gulp of his beer. John looked at the can of beer in dismay. “Shite.” He replied bluntly. He turned his attention back to Lindsey. “Don’t change the subject again. You want Stevie here, we all know you do.” “Only because we’re here making an album and she’s the only on who isn’t here.” “She said she would get here ASAP. What more can you want?” Christine asked. “We started recording this in 1985! That’s two years ago! She hasn’t been here once! The four of us have been here basically everyday since the beginning of last year!” “You know why she isn’t here though. Don’t you?” Mick asked, gloomily. The four of them looked at each, knowing no words needed to be said. “When is she going to realise that the people she calls her friends aren’t really her friends? They’re just using her. For her money, for her public status, just using her.” Lindsey said, trying to control his anger. He hadn’t seen or heard from Stevie since their night together in 1984. He’d seen and read things in the news about her but, despite desperate pleas from Stevie’s family and her true friends, he refused to actually speak to or see her. “Has anyone spoken to her recently?” Christine asked. The four of them shook their heads. “I called her manager – to see when Stevie would be gracing us with her presence – but I was just told that they would let us know.” Mick replied. Suddenly, the sound of an opening door and heeled footsteps sounded down the hall. The four present members of Fleetwood Mac watched with mixed emotions as their absent fifth member suddenly appeared. Stevie looked terrible; her usually glowing face was a pasty white colour, covered in hastily done makeup. Her hair, in true 80s style, was huge but incredibly messy. She wore a huge fur coat, which the rest of band secretly hoped was not real. She no longer donned her trademark chiffon with platform boots; instead, underneath the coat, she wore a black pantsuit and thin-heeled black boots – no platform. “Hey guys. Look who’s here to crash your party?” Stevie said, her voice no longer a sexy husky delight, more of a hoarse, shredded disaster. The other four band members remained speechless. No one, not even Lindsey, knew what to say to the train wreck before them. Finally, someone spoke up. “Stevie, darling, how lovely to see you.” Christine said, putting on a fake smile that she hoped Stevie couldn’t see through. She handed John her wine – “Don’t drink any, Johnny. I’ll know.” – and stubbed out her cigarette. She stood up and walked over to Stevie, who seemed to be holding herself up by holding tightly onto the door handle. Christine gave Stevie a hug, which Stevie returned clumsily with her free hand. Mick and John took their turns in giving Stevie a hug and a peck on the cheek, until there was only Lindsey who hadn’t moved from his place by the control desk. “Aren’t you going to greet me, Lindsey?” Stevie asked overconfidently. Lindsey clenched his jaw. “Hi Stevie. Glad you could finally join us. Christine will show you to your room. We’ll all reconvene back here in an hour. That will give our late arrival some time to unpack, get settled and… tidy herself up, perhaps?” Lindsey smiled heartlessly as he watched Stevie’s face fall. Christine envisioned the blow up that was bound to happen and quickly went back to Stevie’s side. “C’mon, Stevie. Let me show you to your room. Are you alone?” “Er yea. I gave everyone some time off. Said it would better if I came alone this time.” “Oh that’s good. So…” Their voices trailed off down the hall way. Mick and John looked at Lindsey, who had now covered his face with his hands. “Lindsey, mate?” Mick gently patted him on the back. “What’s up, mate?” John asked, putting Christine’s wine glass on the floor and moving closer to Lindsey and Mick. “Are you crying?” Mick asked. “Yes I’m fucking crying!” Lindsey yelled from behind his hands. “Can we ask why?” John asked. Lindsey shot them both a dangerous look. “Why? Why? Because the woman I love is slowly destroying herself! That’s fucking why!” Lindsey pushed Mick’s hand away and turned back to the control desk. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow.” “But you said – ” “I know what I said! But I need some time alone! Just go tell Christine and Stevie. Okay?” Mick and John looked at one another, knowing they had better do what Lindsey said. After all, they were in his home and he had been kind enough to let them stay there, plus he was co-producing their new album. “Alright, Lindsey. See you tomorrow.” Mick said, walking towards the door. “Ta-ra mate.” John said, following Mick and shutting the door behind him. Lindsey managed to pull himself together long enough to load an old tape recording. Sitting back, he listened as a voice from the past leaked out of the speakers.

“Sunflowers and your face fascinate me

You love only the tallest trees

I come running down the hill

But you're fast - you're the winner

Long distance winner.”

As Lindsey listened to his and Stevie’s voices intertwine in a beautiful melody, he started to sob hard. He imagined that this was how Stevie had felt that time he had made her cry so hard and so much that she had to send her little brother in to make excuses for her. He screamed out piercingly, with intense pain, and in anguish. Stevie sat above the studio in her temporary bedroom, her keen ears – the only sense left in her that still worked – listening to Lindsey’s agonising screams. She watched as Christine put her clothes away for her. Happy that her back was turned, Stevie shed a tear for her broken-hearted love.