Chapter 38

By the time we got near Christmas, again, there had been another shift in focus. Ali had been invited to apply for the Juilliard School in New York, a singular honor for one so young. She, however, wanted none of it. In the middle of the year, she would have finished high school and was certain that if Wayne County was good enough for her Aunty Pet, it was good enough for her.

The French and Spanish shows had also created more interest. The idea was to take them back on the road, touring Europe, with two-night stands, one of each, in just about every capital city around. That idea grew when someone suggested that it should be three-night stands, with the third night being the American music.

I suppose the idea had merit; there would be those who would attend all three shows, and others who would pick a single show. There were enough ex-pat Americans who would come to the third night. The only problem I could see was the huge size of the touring group. We would need three coaches for the players and another couple of trucks for the instruments, even if we used supplied amps.

It was Easter before the logistics had been worked out. We had a pool of French and Spanish artists that we could draw from. The Americans would all be in it for the long haul. We would kick off in Brussels in early June, play each weekend on the Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and then move on. From Brussels, we went to Paris, then down the south of France, into and then out of Spain, around to Italy, Greece, the Balkan states and then back into Germany. Our last show would be in Berlin, in the middle of September.

Once again, I would be away from home for a full summer. It made me think hard about my future. I told Jordan that it would be the last time and then told Allan the same thing. I had decided that it was time to stop touring. I had spent years as a Pixie, then a Stable Sister, as well as a member of Snowden and a solo artist. I had played country-rock, country and western, classics, pop, jazz, folk, swing, and everything in between. I was now in my mid-thirties, and it was time to rest, relax, and refill the batteries.

This tour, however, we had more who wanted to come. When I told my parents that I would stop touring, they decided that they wanted to come as well. Then Allan and Helen said that the office could run without them, and they would come along for the ride. Alicia would be finishing high school and starting at Wayne the next term. So, she negotiated with the high school to finalize all the things that she needed to do before the term ended. We then spoke to the Music School at Wayne who were happy to allow her to start a little after the normal first day. The proviso here, though, was that she was given a project to write, regarding the musical styles of the places we visited.

On top of that, Tabitha hounded Carol to allow her to come along to “keep Ali under control.” In the end, Jordan put Sharron and Carol in charge of the farm and the vet business, Sharron to oversee the two interns. Carol was to keep an eye on the farm business. So, it was me, Jordan, Ali, Tabby, Allan and Helen and my folks. I thought it would be a lot of fun with all of them in tow.

Before we left Brandon told us that he had been made a generous offer to produce in New York, based on his award. He told us that he would work through the bookings we already had so Allan told his agency not to take any more until we were back. He would vacate the stable before he left. We wished him well and wished him luck.

Another one leaving was Rebecca, head-hunted by one of the big hotels down south. Doris was now living with her daughter and Veronica had moved in with her boyfriend. She would come to the farm, twice a week, to tutor Tabitha as Ali would have her lessons at Wayne, spending the other days at the new school.

So, when we got back, it would just be the two families. Over summer, the special school would have been relocated completely to a dedicated building and expanded to take up to fifty students. The trial period had shown that, given the right environment, even the most disadvantaged, but bright, children could thrive.

The farm was going to be quiet toward the end of the year, very much like how it was when I was younger. It would be odd for a while, but I expected that we would either get used to it or fill the place with new people.

It was a big crowd that flew to France. The hotel was good with the influx and the rehearsal hall was just a stroll away. We spent ten days working through the three shows. The American players we had taken quickly picked up on the European vibe. The funniest bit was that players from one night would appear on another night to fill in if someone felt ill.

We did the tour through France, Spain, Italy, through the Balkans, and back to Germany. Allan, Helen, and my folks often took side trips and picked us up further along. Ali and Tabby went to a lot of the shows, as well as visiting musically historic sites and taking lots of notes. I asked Ali why Tabby was getting so involved and was told that Wayne County expected to see Tabby in class in a few years, so her project would be considered advanced study.

Whenever the venue had a piano, we allowed the two girls time, before the shows, to keep up their playing. Sometimes, they would be playing as the paying customers started to come in, so we left it that way. They got pocket money on the nights they played, not that they needed it, seeing that I had given them a generous allowance. I had to hand it to them, they did put in a lot of hard work with the project, being able to take pictures to fill out the story was a bonus. On our rest days, we would take in local music, even if it was just a sing-along in a local watering-hole.

The shows were much the same as we had filmed them last year, with some additions to connect them to the places we were playing. All three segments added local influence as we moved along, and it was a hybrid version of the original idea that finished in Berlin. We did, however, fill most of the shows, sell a lot of DVDs and merchandise, and had a great time. The reviews, as we went around, usually called us a “Masterclass of Ethnic Music” and we exposed a lot of people to new sounds. At the end of it all, my folks flew back to Florida, the American players went home, and Jordan, me and the girls spent a week in Basle, just winding down.

We were visited, near the end of our stay, by Senor Saintz and Roberto Bouquette, who took us out for a meal in one of the swanky restaurants as a thank you for making their summer so much fun. They had been on stage at about half of the shows, even a few of the finger-picking ones. They told us that they both now had enough forward orders for guitars to last them their lifetime, even after they had lifted their prices.

When we arrived back in Detroit, Sharron met us with a minibus. It was good to be back in our own beds and to relax. I’m sure that Tabitha kept her parents awake talking about her tour. This was one tour where Jordan and I didn’t need a “first night” but we made it one, anyway.

Over the next week, we took stock. Jordan was back in charge of the vet business, although he was spending a lot more time at the vet school, tutoring. Sharron was well up to handling the business with the two interns and Carol reported that the farm business was ticking over without much input needed.

The studio was quiet, and Ali asked me if we could put another Concert grand in there so she could play, either with me or Tabitha, as she had decided to write a piano-double piece. I had absorbed enough of the process to do the production if you wanted it simple. We had no more bookings and Brandon had left the stable clean and tidy. Ali asked if she could move in, so she could make as much noise as she liked without disturbing us.

That’s how we came to be three separate units. Jordan and I were in the house, with me taking care of the cooking. Ali was in the stable, now with the keys to the studio so she could play, often with Tabitha. Sharron and Carol were over the vet offices. The accommodation block was now cleaned, sealed, and locked up, ready for future use. If I wanted to go somewhere to play, write, or just think, I had the rehearsal room all to myself. Alicia agreed that, instead of a big party, this year, the second concert grand would do just as well.

She turned fourteen, looked like a sixteen-year-old, and acted like someone in her twenties. I often wondered if it was the combination of genes, both Josie and I competent players, or the effect of that Christmas night when she heard the Swan. I guess we’ll never know, for sure. That Christmas was one of the quietest I can remember, even quieter than our snowed-in one. We five girls organized the food and Jordan organized the drinks. Ali and Tabby had their first taste of alcohol, or so they told us, on Christmas Eve.

I missed the hectic times when everyone else was with us. I really missed having the Sisters around but knew that we had all moved on.

Early, the following year, we had the studio wall down again to install a second Concert grand. The two took up a lot of space when put together but it didn’t matter. Ali spent a lot of time on her opus, and I spent a lot of my time with her, playing sections of her double. The original tune that I had dreamt was a feature of the first and third section. Together, we wrote an adagio to fill the middle. I love adagios, originally pieces to be played between set-changes in early theatre productions, and they were invariably smooth, lush, and beautiful.

It was the third part that was holding her up. She wanted it to be big, bold, brash, and a total statement, but didn’t have the life experience to get it as dramatic as she wanted.

Events, just before Easter, changed that situation, overnight.

I was in the kitchen, preparing our evening meal, when my mobile phone rang. I answered it and a man told me he was the police chief for the area where Josie and her family lived in Los Angeles. He told me that there had been a shooting incident at the local mall and that my mobile number was prominent in the diary of one of the victims.

I just asked him to hold for a moment while I turned off the stove, did that and called Jordan on the house phone to come in as soon as he could. That done, I sat down and asked the police chief to carry on, fearing the worst. It was worse than I thought.

Thankfully, Jordan was now beside me, so I put my phone onto speaker and laid it on the kitchen table, unable to hold it as my hands were shaking so badly. I had to tell the police chief my relationship to Josie before he would tell me what happened.

He was straight forward as he told me that Josephine Prentice was dead, shot by gunmen in a shopping mall as she was waiting for her husband and father-in-law, who had also been shot. By that time, I was almost ready to start screaming, but Jordan held me close as he told the chief that he was Josie’s brother. The chief asked us if there was anyone else in the family and we said that Josie had twins, aged around twelve, who were probably still at school, seeing the time difference. We didn’t know of anyone else close, Tony being an only child.

He told us that he would arrange for someone to pick them up from school and care for them. Jordan was adamant that the Social Services were not to be involved and that we would pay for a professional to take care of them until we got there. When the police chief realized who we were, and who the Prentices were, he got serious and told us that he would stay in touch. Our wishes were paramount, especially with the number of influential artists who had worked with Martyn and Tony. He promised full police attendance at the funeral, to keep control of the expected crowds.

We arranged to see him the following afternoon and made bookings to fly to L.A. the next day, along with a car and driver while we were there. We rang Brad and Alicia first, and then Fort Lauderdale to pass on the sad news and to tell them that we had it under control. The hardest thing that evening was to tell Alicia that her birth mother was dead. We sat and watched the TV news that gave a short account of the incident. They didn’t name anyone but did say that more than a dozen had died. Sharron, Carol, and Tabitha were with us, and we all cried and held each other.

When we told the others that we were flying south, in the morning, both Ali and Tabby were insistent that they wanted to come too. Their argument was that they were better suited to comfort the twins. We called the airline and doubled our seats. That night Ali slept with us, cuddled in the middle, and was much better in the morning.

As soon as the schools opened, we called in to tell them that Ali and Tabby would be away for a few days because of a personal tragedy and wouldn’t be back until the beginning of the new semester. We were packed and at the airport for our flight, Sharron taking us in. The trip was taken, mainly, in silence, all four of us having our own thoughts. Jordan held my hand most of the way and was pretending to be our pillar of strength, even though he was churning inside.

When we arrived in L.A. there was a couple of uniformed police waiting for us. They waited until we were in our hired car and gave us an escort to the police headquarters, where we were taken directly into the office of the police chief. He told us that the twins were being cared for at one of the city hotels, with two nurses and a private social worker. He assured us that they had weathered the news badly, but he had been told that they wanted to see us today.

We were given hot drinks and he settled in his chair to give us the facts that he couldn’t, the day before. The story, as he told it, was an urban terrorist event. Martyn, Tony, and Josie were shopping for Easter in the mall. Martyn and Tony needed to go to the toilet. Seconds after they had gone in, a couple of guys carrying big bags went in behind them.

When her husband hadn’t come out, Josie rang his phone but there was no answer. She then rang the mall security to tell them that something was strange. In the time she had been waiting, another couple of guys had gone in but no-one had come out. The mall security was on the balcony above her when two men came out of the toilets, dressed in body armor and firing automatic weapons. There was a firefight between them and the security but, before both had been taken down, eight shoppers had been killed, including Josie.

He assured us that the death-toll would have been much higher if it hadn’t been for Josie and her phone alert. Martyn, Tony, the two other men, and another guy sitting in a cubicle, had all been shot with a silenced handgun. The toll was thirteen, plus the two attackers, with another ten injured.

He told us that his office was gearing up for the flood of enquiries, seeing that the three of them were stars in their own fields. He was stoic when he mentioned that he expected there would be a huge call for more gun control from the music industry. He was sad when he admitted that, unless the state and federal governments passed uniform, and binding, laws, his hands were tied. He said that California had strict laws about automatic weapons, but these guys had come into the state with legally bought guns.

He then showed us a video that the two guys had uploaded while getting ready. It clearly showed bodies on the floor while the guys were ranting about getting back at the rich and powerful, the “society slugs” as they called them, who were sucking the life out of good, patriotic, Americans. We were told that six of the dead were on Social Security, so much for equalising the balance!

When we left, we were escorted to the hotel, where we were met by a couple of crying children. After a hugging and sobbing session, I found out that Georgina was wearing Josies “Sisters Forever” pendant, while Alicia had purloined mine. Tabitha and Martyn were holding each other in a way that I thought was more than for comfort. The hotel set a room aside for us and we went for lunch.

As we ate, things came back to a more normal level. I found out that Ali and Georgie had been in constant contact while they were apart and truly considered themselves sisters. Martyn and Tabby had been exchanging letters and phone calls. Their time, together, on the farm, had created a bond between the four of them that made the next step easier.

I asked them. “Kids, if we all go back to the farm, will it be all right if Jordan and I adopt the two of you, so you can grow into adults as our family?”

Chairs went flying as we were enveloped in hugs.

It took some days before we were able to take the children home. There was a lot of paperwork to do in their regard, as well as a lot of arranging regarding the funeral. Alicia and Brad were flown in, along with my parents and the Maxwell’s. Dianne and the Swans were a real help. Dianne was a partner in a law firm and her transition hadn’t changed her status. There were also transport and real estate companies, run by Swans, who were happy to work for us at a minimum profit, while looking for better ways to help us.

Together, we cleared the house that Tony had bought when he returned. All the awards and pictures were carefully packed to be put on a special part of the wall in the studio. All the clothing, which still included suitcases with Maureen’s things, went to a charity that the Swans ran, supplying outfits for newly minted ladies. The twins packed all their things, as well as the special reminders of their parents and grandparents, and it was sent off to Detroit. We found the boxes that contained Maureen’s and Josie’s jewelery. The house was cleaned and put on the market.

We flew back to the farm before the Easter weekend, to spend some quiet time before the funeral. Allan, Brad, and my father told us to stay away so that they could help organize the funeral. I was told, in no uncertain terms, that the twins would be taking back their old bedrooms in the stable, and that Ali would help them recover. She did that by sitting us all in front of the TV and playing the Swan DVD. We all cried, and it did the twins a power of good. The week after Easter, we flew south again for the final goodbye, all better able to cope with it.

As I had expected, the funeral was huge. Allan had organized the biggest place he could find, and it was packed. Outside, the police had barriers to hold back the fans. There were pockets of fans of bands that Martyn and Tony had produced. There was a strong turn-out of Swans, but the largest crowd were Pixie’s, Sister’s, and Snowden fans, all sad to see the passing of one of their idols.

On top of that, the media was out in force. Getting more than twenty Grammy Award winners in the one place, without a red carpet, was a huge drawcard. When we went in, we sat with Alicia and Brad, them on the outside of the row with my parents on the other end. Behind us were Allan and Helen, joined by Donna and her family, Abigail and Matthew, and the rest of the Sisters, along with their families. Behind them was a row of the Swans executive and our other helpers. In front of us we looked at three caskets, on trestles, adorned with flowers.

The service was beautiful, one of the choirs giving their time. The preacher was full of praise for the three departed, giving us a rollcall of their achievements. He repeated something that the media had seized on, that Josie was an angel for having the sense to raise the alarm. Many were saying that the death toll may have got close to a hundred if the security hadn’t already been nearby to stop the carnage.

When it was time to leave, a group of six recording studio owners lifted Martyn for his final trip. Tony was carried by members of six different bands that he had produced hits for. Josie was the last to be lifted. Alicia and Brad at the front; Ali and me in the middle; Donna and Emily at the back.

It was hard for all of us. Alicia and Brad were taking their daughter on her final trip. I was holding up my friend, my sister, my lover, and the mother of the child beside me. Ali was crying for her true mother and a stalwart mentor. The other two went back to high school days with Josie.

Outside, we slid the caskets into the three waiting hearses, which then left slowly to take them to the crematorium. We had an appointment, the following Sunday, to attend a private ceremony where the urns would be placed in a graveyard. Martyn and Tony flanking Maureen, with Josie alongside her husband.

We stayed in L.A. until then, spending quiet times with the children and arranging the adoption paperwork. There were a lot of journalists who wanted to speak to us, so we finally relented and organized a room at the hotel for a press conference. We were asked about how we felt about gun control. I told them that I, and many of the music industry stars, was in favour of total elimination of automatic, semi-automatic guns of all sizes, and any magazines over ten rounds.

One reporter wanted to argue about the constitutional right to bear arms, so I pointed out that this was drawn up at a time when landowners and some towns had small private militia, because there was no standing army, and that it was never intended apply to everyone. I was asked about my relationship with Josie, and I admitted that we were close friends, and that we considered ourselves as sisters, even to being the original two Stable Sisters.

When asked, “What now?” we told them that Jordan, as Josie’s brother, and I, would be adopting Martyn and Georgina. They would live with us at the farm, and grow, we hoped, to be normal, responsible, adults and may be able to put the events of the last few weeks behind them, even though they would never forget their parents and grandparents.

Marianne Gregory © 2023