I Let Love In

Chapter XI: Come and See Him

It was cold, but not biting. 

Sunny, but not blinding. 

Maude once again got us from our hotel to the street on the napkin unscathed. A few people passing us gave us a quick glance but it might have just been my shirt. 

I may be an Aussie, but I'm still "ladylike". How dare I. 

Rounding one last corner and thinking we were at the wrong spot, we found the place. Maude's eyes lit up. It took me a second to register what I was seeing. I'd seen one of these before last summer. Large, unsuspecting, nondescript...one window with a piece of cardboard taped to it, the others with blinds drawn. Only one window revealed the inside but it was no use. It was on the second story. I spent a day in Sydney sitting in the corner of the room observing. Before the band went on tour....

"Is that..."

"A recording studio!" Maude squealed in excitement and took my hands in hers. "Brett would take me to their studio all the time during their last sesh! Oh, we have to go inside!"

My insides fired up. The entire building screamed "enter at your own risk" motif. 

"Something tells me we're getting sent home at the door," I said. 

"Nonsense," Maude said. "Just show them your written invitation and we'll be fine."

I took a look at my napkin. "He didn't sign his name, there's no indication he wrote it," I said. "This could be from anyone."

Maude frowned then grabbed my hand. "Then let's hope your Angus McStud answers the door." Hiding my blush I stumbled after as she pulled me up to the door. Fluffing herself up then turning to fluff me, Maude gave a swift knock on the door and stepped back. 

Nothing.

Another knock.

Still nothing. 

"Maybe they're out to lunch?"

"Maybe this was a bad idea," I said looking at the deserted street behind us. No cars except one beat up old blue thing. Might as well face it. They weren't gonna answer to a couple straggling groupies demanding to catch a glimpse of their favourite band of the week. 

Or so I thought. 

After an exceptionally long and silly sounding tune Maude pounded on the door a tall man in glasses answered. "Yeah?" He was born and raised in London.

"Hi."Maude flashed her glowing smile. "My friend and I are here to visit a couple of friends from Oz." The man glanced at me and decided Maude looked friendlier. "She has a note saying to meet them here." With a nudge from my companion I handed the man the crumpled napkin and he read it through once before looking in the room behind him. 

"Uh...the band's recording right now..." He held the napkin up. "You sure this is from them?"

I nodded. "Angus himself gave it to her," said Maude. 

Looking us over and deciding we weren't a threat he stood back to let us in. "You can stay in here for now. I'll head upstairs and ask if he knows you. If not, I'll have to send you out," he shrugged. We nodded in understanding. His thick black shoes clomped up the stairs and my heart started racing, my palms sweating. Angus would know exactly who we were and yet I was still anxious. Maude made herself at home on a torn couch with an expired copy of Creem Magazine. I took the opportunity to look around the room. 

It didn't smell great. Not bad, but not like I'd want to stay here for long. There was a bookcase by the wall with encyclopedias and withered books I didn't know. There were cobwebs on almost everything. The hardwood floor creaked with every footstep and I sneezed from the thin layer of dust in the air. "Bless you," said Maude turning a page.