My Wife and the Singer

As always I have to say a huge thank you to my friends who help me. Randi and Stev 2244 for their incredible support encouragement, and desire to help convert gibberish into something almost readable. Thank you both.

"Sit down, Ali, for god's sake. Security will throw us out."

"Oh, don't be a fuddy-duddy, Babe," she grumbled, ignoring my pleas. If anything, she sang louder. She sang at the top of her voice, not caring who heard. She knew all the damn words, probably better than Rob Chisholm, the singer did.

It was our first night out for ages. We both worked long hours and this was a bit of a reprieve. I was worried, though. The big burly bouncer off to the side was giving us funny looks.

The Civic Theatre was a seated venue, and we were supposed to remain seated. Bloody stupid, really. We were at a rock concert, and weren't allowed to dance? Who stays seated at a rock concert? Not Ali, anyway.

I had managed to get front row seats, so that's where we were: front and centre. Ali had been a Rollicking Lizard fan her whole life. Personally, I thought they were a bit naf, but she loved them. I remember her telling me what a huge part of her life the band had been growing up. She was a dedicated fangirl. She even confessed to me that she lost her virginity to the sound track of the Lizards. She was hard core, her bedroom walls, and even her roof, were wallpapered with their posters when she was a teenager. Jesus, stored away in our garage, she still had some. When I saw they were having a reunion tour, I quickly snapped up tickets as a surprise.

When I showed her the tickets, she went off her nut and she showed me over and over how much she loved me for thinking of it.

She got all dressed up. She was still a striking woman at thirty eight. Still wore the same clothes she did when we married. Tall and willowy, with a natural grace, her long wavy brown hair set off her cute face. She might not have the elegant beauty of a movie star, but she had that gorgeous cute thing going on: dark sparkly eyes, a pert little nose, which she hated, but I loved.

Personally, I thought she was beautiful and watching, her sway to the music in the front aisle sent shivers up and down my spine.

The little black dress, much shorter than she normally wore, showed off her long slender legs and the firmest arse ever. For a woman who does no exercise, her butt is spectacular, firm and bouncy.

As the Lizards got to the chorus, Ali started really belting it out, singing the words back to Rob, the lead singer. I saw him staring right back at Ali. He had definitely noticed her singing. It probably wasn't just the singing, as she danced in a spinning, arm-flailing, spiralling dance, her vocals stretching to match the band.

Ali is a performer, a good singer in her own right. She sang with a small vocal group and was part of the theatrical society. She wasn't into the acting, but if they put on a musical, she jumped right in. Her voice was great, actually. I always thought she should do something with it, but she sort of let it slide.

I knew deep down she would love to sing more, she just didn't have the opportunity, or the courage; the drinks we had with our dinner before the show seemed to have eroded any fears.

When Rob jumped down off stage and jumped in with Ali's dance she looked stunned at first, but then beamed a huge smile as he grabbed her hand and swirled her into a spin. When it came time, he drew her close and they sang together into his mic. He sort of stopped singing and let Ali really belt it out.

The crowd, of course, went nuts, and I saw the envious looks of a few nearby women. Ali was living their fantasy. Ali played along with Rob, kicking up her heels and leaning in really close as they shared the mic.

At the end of the song, he gave her a kiss, applauded loudly which we all joined in with, before he jumped back up on stage.

Ali looked flabbergasted and jumped into my arms screaming. "Did you see that?"

I laughed, "You were better than him." She kissed me wildly, her hands crushing my face.

When the band started the next song she was back up and singing again. He stared down at her and they were more or less singing to each other.

Then, to my amazement, he reached down and waved for her to climb up on stage. She couldn't clamber over the little barricade until the bouncer came and lifted her easily up on stage.

Once there, they shared a brief kiss and then powered into the song. Ali knew all the words, knew them off by heart. She needed no prompting. When Rob organised for her own mic, she really took off. It was like she was born for it.

To say I was proud and stunned would be a complete understatement. I was thoroughly amazed. By then, the crowd flooded the aisles, and there was dancing everywhere. Security tried to stop it, but after a few minutes they gave up. I joined the throng of party goers at the front and danced with a group of women, about my own age, who were dancing like they didn't care. I tried to watch Ali, to enjoy the moment, but my dancing partners wanted my attention. We really got stuck in. It was a wild and abandoned party like atmosphere.

The band had to do three encores, and Ali stayed for them all.

At the end, security started herding the people away from the stage. I looked for Ali and saw her being guided off the side of the stage with the band.

The MC announced that the band would be signing autographs out the front in about ten minutes.

I wandered over to the side of the stage and tried to find a door backstage.

One of the security guards grabbed me. "Hey, Bro. You can't go back there."

"But my wife was the one on stage."

"Don't matter, mate. You can't go back there. The band will all be out the front in about ten minutes. I suggest you wait there."

The theatre held about one thousand people, and I think every one of them stayed for a signing. I milled around waiting impatiently, I couldn't see Ali anywhere. I tried to ring her cell, but it just went to message bank.

I was becoming a little agitated when she sprang into my arms from out of the swirling masses of people. "Oh my god, babe. Thank you so much. Oh my god, what a night."

With her back in my arms, I felt a little better. "You were amazing, Ali, bloody awesome. I couldn't believe it."

"I know, right? Holy shit, what a rush, babe."

As we stood there, some of the fans even asked her to sign their new CD's. She felt like a star.

She signed a few good naturedly, and said, "Can we wait till everybody goes. I just want to say thanks to Rob."

I didn't really want to, but I could see there was no winning that argument. We stood off to the side and it took the best part of an hour before Rob sauntered over to us. He reached out his hand to shake. "Hey, dude, I'm Rob. Pleased to meet you."

Ali jumped into his arms and he laughed loudly. "Dude, your wife is amazing. We want to take her with us."

I sniggered. "You should be so lucky."

He gave me a coy nod. "Dude, I'm serious. I'm not messing about. That was fucking amazing, and we want Ali to come with us. We have a three week tour that finishes in Auckland. We'll pay for everything, food, accommodation, costumes. We'll cover it all."

"You're joking," Ali screeched excitedly.

"No, Babe, deadly serious. We want you, and we'll pay."

"Sorry, we can't do it. Ali works, I work. We can't just drop everything." I threw back at him, totally disconcerted.

She looked at me. "Babe, I could get time off." Her look so full of expectation, pleading, begging.

"Honey, I can't get time off. On top of that, there's nobody to look after the kids."

I saw the lights go out in her eyes as the realisation set in. She sighed. "Sorry, Rob."

"No, come on, Babe, we can make this work. What if just you come with us. You said you can get time off."

She glanced guiltily back at me. "I could get the time, Paul. They owe me heaps."

"You mean go by yourself?"

Rob replied before she could speak. "Dude, we'll look after her. She's in safe hands. All she needs is a few clothes and personal shit. "

Her eyes sparkled, her face beamed, the excitement real. "Please, Paul." It was a soft beseeching plea, impossible to say no to. "When are you leaving?" she asked Rob.

He glanced at his phone. "In about an hour, hour and a half at the latest. We're driving up to Dunedin. We have a tour bus."

She grabbed my hands and squeezed. "Honey, we could rush home, I could grab some clothes and be back here in an hour."

Rob interrupted. "Dude, if it makes it easier, give us your address and we'll stop in and pick her up on the way."

There was no getting out of this. I hated the idea, but I could see she was in a place she had always wanted to be. Under the spotlight. "Yeah, okay." I grumbled uncomfortably. I just wanted to say no, but how could I?

He grabbed my hand to shake. "Awesome, dude, you won't regret it. She's going to be a star, a fucking superstar."

Ali was beyond excited, the whole drive home she chattered on and on. She rushed in and piled clothes higgeldy-piggeldy into a bag. She touched up her makeup and then, there we were, standing together, her arms around my neck. "God I love you, Paul. Thank you for letting me do this. I'm still in fairy land. I can't believe it. I promise I will find a way to make this up to you."

"Just have fun. Give me a call later and let me know some more details. Ali, be careful. There's bound to be drugs and plenty of booze. These guys have a reputation."

"Honey, that was years ago; they're all middle aged men now, families, children."

"No, I don't believe that. Chisholm is still always in the news, and never for good things. Please be careful."

She kissed me long and hard. "Don't worry, my love. I will be careful. God I can't believe it. Holy shit, I'm going on tour."

The honking of a horn announced that the bus was there. A final kiss and she was gone. I watched as they all welcomed her onboard and there was cheering and yelling as the bus pulled away.

As the tail lights vanished around the corner, I mused, "What the fuck just happened?"

As I closed the door and the silence embraced me, that led to me giving myself a severe kicking. "You fucking moron. Letting her go off with those drop kicks. Fuck knows what will happen."

The kids were off staying overnight with friends, so I had the place to myself.

I waited for a while to see if Ali called. I tried her phone, but it just went to message bank. I left her an I love you, and hope everything is okay, message.

Work kept me pretty busy the next day, although a couple of my work team had been at the concert and gave me a fair razzing over Ali getting up on stage.

I tried Ali's phone again at lunch to see if she had managed to organise the time off, again nothing. Straight to message bank. I decided to give Nancy, her boss a call. She knew all about the concert, and yes she had spoken to Ali, and the leave was all good.

That pissed me off. She could call them, but couldn't find time to send me a message. "Fucking wonderful." I grumbled under my breath.

No Ali meant rushing home and cooking dinner. I was part way into it when the girls rushed in together. "Holy shit, Dad, have you seen the TV, there's footage of Mum on stage at the concert last night." Lacey cried out.

Kaley, my youngest was right on her heels, giggling crazily. "It's all over the net. I got heaps of snaps, and there's video on insta, as well." She waved her phone around frantically, as if that was going to help.

"What's for dinner?"Lacey asked quickly.

"Mac and cheese," I replied.

"Can we eat in the lounge so we can watch the news?"

I laughed. "You want to watch the news? Will wonders never cease."

"Mums bound to be on, apparently it was on at lunch time."

We watched intently as the girls waffled on and on about what the kids at college said.

Sure enough, there was a story about the concert on the news, which included an interview with Chisholm. When he announced that Ali was going to be singing with them for the rest of the tour, the girls went bananas. "Oh my god, Dad, why didn't you say something?"

I chuckled. "I didn't want to ruin your surprise."

"So when is Mum coming home?" Lacey spluttered through a mouthful of food.

"Three weeks."

Kaley reached for her phone, and before I knew it she was talking to Ali. "Can you let me speak to her when you're finished please?" I asked.

There were shrieks and giggles, which went on and on before Lacey passed me the phone. "Hey, Paul, sorry I didn't call back earlier, things have been crazy."

"Yeah, I bet. Did you organise leave?"

"Yep, all done, Honey."

"What's the accommodation like?"

"Amazing, we're staying at the Windsor, it's four stars."

"I assume you all get separate rooms?" I tried to make it light, and non accusatory, but I felt my voice waver a little as I asked.

"Of course, the roadies have to share, but we get our own rooms. Look, sorry Babe, things are really busy. Can I call you later?"

"Yeah, text me your room number and I'll call you."

The girls spent the rest of the night calling and talking to their friends, gossiping about Ali's news about being on the tour.

I spent the night fighting off my in-laws, my parents, all of whom thought I was an idiot.

I did feel like an idiot, but I wasn't putting up with them telling me. It turned out to be a shitty night. I was happy to get to sleep.

There was no call from Ali. I tried again in the morning, but no luck: straight to message bank. I rang the hotel and got her room number, but it just rang and rang. Now I was getting worried. I had never once had reason to have any concerns about Ali, not once. As far as I knew, she had been nothing but a wonderful wife and mother.

Like most couples, we had our moments, but I never felt like I needed to question her fidelity. Now...

That was was pretty much how the next few weeks went. She did call occasionally, and I did try her room every night, never once did I ever catch her. She explained that she turned the volume down because it woke her up.

The girls were all over what their Mum was up to. They talked and messaged regularly. They talked costumes, clothes, gossip about the band members, and Rod fucking Chisholm. Jesus I was sick of hearing his fucking name.

Thankfully, the end of the tour was closing in. Ali called to ask if I could pick her up from the airport, Saturday at eleven-thirty.

I had a good run to the airport, got there in plenty of time, only to see the flight had been delayed. I went to the bar, got a drink, sat back and watched the big-screen TV. I hoped for sports, but got some fucking current affairs bullshit. I was about to ask the bar man to change the channel, when I was blown away. There was a grainy image of a woman sneaking across a hotel hallway. Obviously, she was sneaking out of a room that wasn't hers as she carried her heels and what looked like panties in her hands.

I just about sprayed my beer all over the bar, when I realised it was Ali, my wife.

The reporter then carried out an interview with one of the roadies. "Yeah man, he's been banging her ever since that first night. I don't think we were out of Invercargill before he had her in the back of the tour bus."

He sniggered grotesquely. "We all heard them going at it."

"So it wasn't a Cinderella moment?" The reporter asked. "Oh, hell no." The roadie replied. "He just thought it would be hot to bang her."

"It wasn't about her singing then?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong, the chick can sing. She's got a great set of pipes, but it wouldn't have happened if Rob didn't find her hot."

The TV changed settings, to an interview with Rob Chisholm. "You've been sleeping with her the whole time then?" The interviewer asked.

"Yeah, guess there's no hiding from it now," Chisholm smirked. "Look, Ali's a great bird, she's a choice bird actual. She's hot as hell. Why wouldn't I?" He glared questioningly at the camera. "I mean, come on, dude, if you were in my shoes you would be doing the same thing, so don't get all high and mighty with me."

"But what do you say to her husband?"

He shrugged. "What would I say? Hell, I would say. Dude, you're one lucky bastard, because that chick is fucking hot. Probably the sexiest fuck I have ever had."

The swearing was bleeped out, but it was not hard to figure out what he said. The barman hissed. "Jesus, what a bitch."

The other guy at the bar laughed. "You're just jealous. Chisholm's right. I'd do her, and so would you." He stared down at me. "You would, wouldn't you mate?"

I sneered. "Not any more."

I threw back my beer and walked out. Ali's plane was just landing. I walked down to the gate to meet her. I saw her walk through the gate and she saw me at the same moment. She ran up and jumped into my arms for a hug and kiss.

Her aggression took me completely by surprise, so there was no chance to fight her off.

After a torrid gut wrenching kiss, we separated but, she looked disappointed. "You don't seem happy to see me? God I have been dying to be in your arms. Come on, Babe, it's been three weeks. Didn't you miss me?"

"Yeah I did, I called you every night, but not once did you ever bother to reply, so yeah. I missed you." I grumbled snarkily.

Her huge smile disappeared and a guilty grimace took over. "I'm sorry, Paul, thing's were hectic."

"Funny, you always had time to message the girls, or talk to them."

We walked over to the luggage carousel where we waited for her bag. As we stood there side by side, she reached for my hand, and clasped it tightly. After I picked the bag up, I said. "Lets go and grab a drink. We need to talk before heading away."

She followed me closely as we carried off her monster bags. The size of the luggage stunned me. "What's in the bags?"

She gave me a wicked grin. "Rob gave me all the costumes to keep. He is such a wonderful guy. Honestly, you would really like him."

"Oh yeah, I bet he thinks I'm a lucky bastard to have you."

She giggled as she followed me. "He really does, babe."

I found a small coffee shop and ordered us both cappuccinos. As she sat opposite me she complained. "We could have waited till home for this. I could wait. I have so much to tell you."

"Good, that's what I was hoping."

She gave me a quizzical glare. She stirred her coffee as I said. "Ali, is there anything you want to tell me? Did anything I should know about happen on the tour?"

She was a great actor, I'll give her that. "What are you talking about, Paul? Are you suggesting something inappropriate happened?"

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm just asking. What I will say is this. If anything did happen, I want to hear it from you. I don't want to hear it from anyone else."

She sipped her coffee and sighed with irritation. "Is this because of the missed calls? God, I did try to tell you, Paul, it was just frantic, late nights, and lots of travel."

"I understand all that, all I am asking is. Did anything I should know about happen while you were gone?"

She frowned. "God, Paul, I'm sorry I didn't call more regularly, but come on, Babe, I was in the middle of my wildest dream."

"So nothing happened?"

"No, damn it, why this bloody interrogation?"

"Last chance, Ali."

She gave me one of those disgruntled snarls. "Oh for fucks sake, Paul. What is this all about."

I took out my phone, scrolled through to the news feed and clicked on the news item from earlier. I clicked play and handed her the phone.

I could hear it as she watched. Her face paled significantly, she dropped her coffee cup and her eyes flew wide open as she stared across at me. "Oh shit. Oh god."

I sipped my coffee as she quickly tried to switch off the video. "Well?" I asked, "Still nothing?"

She sucked in a deep breath as she mopped up the spilled coffee. "I'm sorry, Paul. Shit, I'm so sorry."