One week later, November 13th, Copenhagen, Denmark, 11:13am, the meeting room:
"So, Fletch will be leaving the tour and Daryl Bamonte will be taking his place. Are we clear on that?" Juli tapped her paperwork on the table and watched everyone present nod their heads. "On that note, I believe that's everything we needed to cover this morning; does anyone have any further questions, concerns or anything they'd like to discuss before we conclude?"
She were responded to head shakes and mutterings of decline.
Dave was a bundle of listless nerves in his seat, having chosen to profess his secret for the previous week. He forced his lips to remain tight but his acts made him feel excessively ashamed. How much longer were he to go without telling anyone? He thought, and his body became more restless.
"Alright, well, on that note, thanks for coming everyone."
The meeting began to dissipate. As Dave watched those around him standing up from their seats, his heart beat faster and more irregularly. He couldn't leave the meeting without saying anything; it were a heavy weight on his shoulders he could no longer resist.
"Actually, I do have something to say."
"Is that so?" His touring agent furrowed her eyebrows and retook her seat alongside his touring crew and bandmates.
From across the room, Martin looked at him with a disdainful look in his eyes.
"Yeah, I- This isn't really the place or way I wanted to say it, but I can't keep it from all of you any longer."
He felt his heart begin to pound against his ribcage, his stomach become knotted and his hands unsteady.
"I've got some news for all of you. Quite honestly, I don't know whether it's good or bad."
Martin looked at him again, this time subtly squinting his eyes and turning his head to the side, knowing what was about to be said.
"And this news is...?" Juli encouraged him to continue speaking.
"That... That I'm going to have a baby. I'm pregnant."
~~~~~
Alan uncontrollably spat out his drink across the table, coughing and spluttering. He leaned over the ridge of the table and his husband patted his back.
"You took that well, Alan. Someone get some paper towels." Their touring agent spoke with sarcasm, disguising what she felt as a result of Dave's news.
Yet to speak or move, Andy looked down at the floor momentarily before getting up to follow Juli's instruction.
"Are you guys angry?" Dave's eyes welled, watching their reactions unfold before him, filling him with regret.
"Not angry. Confused." Juli replied , swiveling her chair around to face him. "I mean, I just don't understand how this is happening."
"It's a long story. An extremely long story. Martin's the first person I told. I thought it made the most sense."
"Well, how long were you thinking of going without telling the rest of us?" Alan asked between coughs.
"I don't know..." Dave sighed, his breath trembling. "I don't know. I feel like I've ruined it all. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." He allowed a tear to spill down his face.
"No, you haven't ruined anything." Martin said from across the table. "I was pregnant during a tour, seven years ago. I don't see why we can't make it work for Dave if we made it work for me."
"You're right, love." Alan rubbed his husband's back. "We can make this work."
"I hope we can." Dave whispered, still tearful.
"Of course we can!" Juli comforted him. "You might need some new stage outfits, but that's about it. Other than that, you just carry on being Dave Gahan."
"And you carry on being an uncle to our girls. You and Fletch." Alan remarked.
Dave smiled and brushed his hair back with his hand.
"And speaking of Fletch, he still hasn't come back yet. I'll go see where he's gone."
As Dave left the table and room, the others settled into small talk. He checked the toilet cubicles. Empty. The lounge. Dim and quiet. He proceeded to check in every space he could think of, eventually re-approaching the main corridor just outside of the meeting room.
Where Fletch sat, back against the wall, face buried in knees.
"Oh, Fletch," He scrambled over to him and crouched down. "What're you doing out here, man?"
"I didn't want any of you to see me cry." Andy replied solemnly.
"It's okay, come on." His bandmate gently tapped on his knee. "Problem shared, problem halved. What's the matter?"
"I'm just- I'm just so sad to have to leave, Dave. I can't bear the thought of having to go home and be alone for weeks to try and better myself. I'll miss you, Mart, Alan, the girls, everyone here so much." He whimpered, grabbing a tissue from out of his pocket.
"We'll miss you too, but you just said it yourself! You're leaving because you're going to go and get better. Honestly, I would rather you didn't continue this tour; your health is much more important."
"I just want to bounce back, you know?"
"I have no doubt that you will. You'll come back from this so much stronger than you've ever been."
Andy fell quiet for the following few moments, drying his eyes.
"Thank you, Dave. I'll keep that in mind. And I'm sorry I just walked away; I felt really overwhelmed. But I'm happy for you."
"Don't be sorry, I know it's big news. I knew I had to say something today, though, since your flight is in a few hours."
"I'm not sure how long I'll be away for, but nevertheless I will keep in touch with all of you the best I can. You have all of my support."
Dave's eyes unconsciously welled again. He reached his arm out to give Andy a hug, which he welcomed tearfully.
"And you have all of mine."
~~~~~
Two hours later, 1:32pm, the hotel:
Martin sat at the table with Poppi and Esme as they ate lunch, meanwhile Alan helped Andy to finish packing the last of his luggage. Outside, the day was foggy and condensation coated every window.
"About an hour until your flight boards, Fletch." Alan looked at his watch. "But I'd imagine you'd want to get to the airport quite soon in advance, right?"
"Yeah... Yeah, that's a sensible idea." Andy replied reluctantly, his eyes still a shade of red from his previous tears.
Dave could hear their conversation from where he stood combing his hair in the bathroom, and the immense sorrow he felt for him was yet to leave. It had no matter to him how much he tried to refrain from the guilt of what was happening to Andy, though it wasn't his nor anyone's fault.
"Right, I think that's everything." Andy zipped his second of two suitcases. "And I think I hear my taxi outside already, actually, which I guess means it's time to say goodbye to all of you."
"Goodbye? Where are you going, Uncle Fletch?" Poppi's head pivoted round as she asked.
"I'm going home," Her uncle knelt beside the table where both of his nieces could see him. "It's what's best for me. What's best for you two is to stay here with Papa and Daddy and Uncle Dave."
"But what about you?"
"... I'll be okay. Back home is where I can sort some things out and, hopefully, we'll be seeing each other again in a flash. But in the meantime, I want you both to have lots of fun, okay?"
"Yeah!" Both girls giggled.
"That's what I like to hear. Now, can Uncle Fletch have a bye bye hug?"
The response he received was both girls leaping onto him, Poppi wrapping her arms around his waist and Esme his head. He could only laugh, feeling himself growing emotional again.
"I'll get Daddy to buy some postcards from the post office so that you can both write to Uncle Fletch whilst he's away, if you want, girls." Martin smiled.
"That would be lovely." His bandmate replied, resisting tears. "I've got to hear about all the adventures you go on."
"Yeah, I'll write one every day!" Poppi beamed without loosening her grip.
"Me too, me too!" Her younger sister joined on.
"And I'll read every single one."
It soon came time for Andy to let go of his nieces' embraces and finish bidding his bandmates farewell. After he had done so, Dave accompanied him out of the hotel and to his taxi.
"I don't like saying goodbye, Papa." Poppi could feel a hollowness in her heart. "It's hard."
"I don't like it either, sweetness." Her father reached his hand out for her to take hold of. "And I especially don't like how, sometimes, there's nothing else we can do. But it's not goodbye forever, is it, Daddy?" He signalled for Alan.
"Definitely not. Like he said, you'll be seeing Uncle Fletch again in no time at all. It'll be like he never left!" Alan took a seat at the table and wrapped his arm around Martin.
"Instead of being sad, let's be happy that Uncle Fletch is going to get better."
~~~~~
Three days later, November 16th, Copenhagen, Denmark, 6:04pm, the post office:
To Uncle Fletch,
This morning Papa and Daddy got our breakfast sent to our room. Me and Mae had pancakes and Papa and Daddy had a grown up fancy breakfast. I really liked mine but Mae didn't like hers. Then we went to the park but it started POURING with rain and we had to run back to the hotel! Papa let us get back into some cozy pyjamas and we watched a film with Uncle Dave. Did you know that he's got a baby in his tummy? I can't wait to have a baby cousin to play with! It rained all day and me and Mae had a race with the raindrops on the window. Papa played his guitar and showed me how to strum a chord! Is it raining at home? We miss you.
Wish you were here,
Poppi xxxxxxxxxx
Poppi reviewed what she had written in her postcard once more before placing it back into the envelope and sealing it closed.
"Okay, Daddy, I'm ready!" She exclaimed and Alan picked her up beneath her armpits to reach the top of the postbox.
She slid it inside, allowing it to begin its journey home.