Jamie woke after a disturbed night for which she could discern no reason. She knew she'd had a dream but could remember nothing about it. Looking at her mobile phone which she used as a clock she found it was09:23, not too late or too early to get up and start another Sunday. Calvin was still asleep beside her. Deciding to get up and make them both a coffee, she slipped on her housecoat and made her way downstairs. While the kettle boiled, she turned the television in the kitchen on for no other reason except to provide some background noise.
Taking the coffee mugs back upstairs, she place Calvin's coffee on his bedside table and woke him with a kiss. "There was a time," he grinned at her, "when you woke me with a blow-job. How about one now?" She pulled the bed covers back and satisfied him. She didn't expect him to return the favour as he immediately pulled his boxer shorts up. As she walked round to her side of the bed she turned the television on. It was almost time for the news.
The first item shocked her. Two members of 6Feet3 had been killed in a car crash in the early hours of the morning. "Please don't let it be Danny," she begged silently. The news reader continued: 'Harry Bell and Keith Willis were pronounced dead at the scene along with two unnamed females. Their car had crashed into a bridge outside York. No other vehicle was involved. It appeared that Danny Cooper had had a headache after performing the previous evening and had decided to go straight to the hotel and sleep it off. When told about the accident, he was devastated and declined to be further interviewed.
Jamie was relieved that Danny was safe; thank goodness for a headache. Nevertheless, she cried at the news. "No doubt they were drunk," Calvin commented. He had never been a fan of the band and couldn't understand why Jamie liked them so much. "Why do women hang around people like them? Why would they want to have sex with virtual strangers? They're tarts; nothing less than unpaid prostitutes. If you ask me, the world is a better place without them." Jamie was too upset to answer and it didn't appear that Calvin required an answer.
The news moved onto other stories but Jamie didn't listen. Her mood fluctuated from despair that 6Feet3 was no more and relief that Danny was still alive. He had been the main or sole songwriter. Hopefully, he would go solo after he had recovered from the death of his two childhood friends.
It was a few days later when another news program announced the result of the autopsy. Harry, who was driving, was nearly four times over the drink/drive limit and also had cocaine in his blood. Keith was three times over the limit and also had cocaine in his blood. Both the women who died with them, and who were from the York area, had alcohol levels twice the drink/drive limit. There were tearful comments from family members of the girls, both of whom were described as 'lovely, fun loving and devoted fans of the band'. Calvin felt no sympathy for them. "For fun loving, read sluts", he said to no one in particular. "They'd probably have had the claps or worse," he continued. "Who knows how many women they men had been with and what diseases they'd picked up and passed on to other stupid girls."
That was something Jamie had to agree with. After her night with Danny she dreaded finding she had been infected. Fortunately, tests showed that she was clean. They also showed she wasn't pregnant, another worry she'd had even though they used contraception.
Weeks after the accident, and Danny still hadn't made any public announcements. Rumours abounded that he was in rehab to get clean from either alcohol or sex addiction or both. When journalists asked the band's manager where he was, the manager said he had no idea. Danny wasn't answering his phone; he wasn't at his parents or at any of his known haunts. The manager claimed to be as frustrated by Danny's absence and silence as everyone else.