We had just done another gig, still in the London area and were about to load all our stuff back. It was becoming more of a routine and it was a good thing too, because everything needed to be put back in the van like a game of Tetris, otherwise, stuff wouldn’t fit and we would have to start anew.

- … and I’ve managed to get some more contacts, which is quite promising – Peter was doing his report, as he was hauling an amp – and I’ve sent the album to radio stations and some magazines, as well. So, I’m hoping we can have more of a full schedule around next week.

- That’s good – Martin slurred a bit as he had gone straight to the bar after the show – And are we getting paid for that?

- Not much. But, right now we have to take it and just keep moving forward, right? - he put the amp in its proper place and no one would be able to add a single cable more, to that wall of things.

- Did we sell anything? - Simon asked, as he took the cigarette right from Martin’s fingers, leaving him no room for any complaints.

- A couple of cassettes, some CDs, one or two T-shirts and some odd stickers… But, as I was saying, right now, we’re putting our name out there, which is what matters.

- What about you, star of the show? - Simon blew the smoke up – You doing alright?

I shrugged as there was not much else to tell – I got a copy of Rock Revolution this morning. There’s a piece on it about us

Alfie took the plastic beer cup from Martin and poured it on the gutter, much to Martin’s dismay at what seemed like a coup against his gentle and harmless soul – You’re on your way to becoming a proper star – he laughed and then looked around – Where’s Freddie?

- Ocupado – Martin stared at the empty cup Alfie had shoved back into his hands – Chicks are always all over the guitar player, everyone knows that.

Peter raised his eyebrows and motioned towards me. Did he really think that, one, I did not see that and, two, that I was that sheltered?

- What? I just said he was busy. He could be in the loo, for all I know.

- I bet a fiver he is – Simon put the cigarette out under his steel-toe boots – What’s our schedule now, Collins? Blackburn?

- Tomorrow we’ll have a gig in One – I said – And two days after that one, we’ll be at the Ram’s Horn.

- That place is sick! - Alfie sat in the back of the van, with the door open.

- And another one at the Black Hole – Peter added.

- And that one sucks – Alfie said again – Not a night goes by there’s not a bloody fight there.

The weeks that went by could be arranged like an 80s training montage, with motorways and back roads, good shows and technical issues, the van being unloaded and then loaded ad aeternum, service station sandwiches and following tummy aches, hangovers and laughter and snoring in stereo so much that I needed my earplugs in the van as well, all of it as the landscape flew us by.

But the truth is that the training montage became more of a mist, somewhere along the way, not because we were tired or it became repetitive, but because I had had bad news.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Every day, I would find a payphone and call back home, no matter where I was. I knew Mami was getting weaker, even if she refused to become bedridden, and no longer went downstairs. She always managed the strength to get out of bed and get dressed.

One day, around mid-November, the person who picked up the phone was Dr. Hughes, who told me my grandmother’s condition had worsened and he had just sent her up to London.

- Is she… - I could not bring myself to say it.

- She will have the best doctors looking out for her – he said – But I cannot give you much hope, Lady Eleanora.

- How long…? - I could feel the tingling in my throat and the prickling of tears in my eyes.

- It could be days, or it could be weeks. She is a very strong woman.

That hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew this moment would come, but I had never allowed myself to think it could be this soon. I closed my eyes hard, trying not to cry.

- When can I see her?

I hung up the phone and just stood there, lost on what to do next. The doctor had said that, given her condition, he would send word that I could see her whenever I could get there.

I tried normalising my breathing. I had to work in two hours, and I could be in London in four. What was my schedule for the following days? I could not remember. My mind kept running to the image of my grandmother alone, on a hospital bed.

- What’s wrong? - Peter never strayed much from me and I must have shot him a hopeless gaze, as he realised soon enough – Lady Margaret?

- They took her to the hospital – he was leading me outside so I could breathe some fresh air – Dr Hughes said… he said… - I tried, but the words would not come out.

- Let’s cancel this. We’ll leave right now.

I shook my head – I can’t. She would never forgive me.

- Ellie…

- I’m doing this for her, Peter. For her legacy. - I wiped the tears that were stubbornly pooling in my eyes – If I fall now, I will not get up again…

I don’t know if it was pity on Peter’s eyes, but I turned my gaze away from him.

- I’ll get you some water.

The day was yet to break when I got to the hospital and was led to Mami’s bed. There was the constant beeping of monitors but the lights were dim enough so she could have some rest. She was asleep, but I took her hand anyway.

- Oh, my dear – her voice came out very weak and hoarse – I told them not to tell you.

- They could never do that, Mami…

She chuckled, softly. Her wit never faded – It’s so hard to find good staff, nowadays.

I leaned over and kissed her forehead, straightening a strand of now white hair that fell out of place.

- You came alone – she whispered.

I shook my head – Everyone’s outside. Peter, Simon, Alfie, Freddie and Martin. We came as fast as we could.

Her eyes were fighting against sleep – Did you bring the violin, my dear? - I had not… - There are some songs I need to listen to, before I go.

I promised I would not be caught off-guard again and, from then on, I have never travelled without it.

She nodded off and I stayed with her for another hour, until a nurse came by and sent me home, so I could rest. I did not want to leave her side, but I eventually walked out, to everyone that was waiting on tenterhooks.

Another week went by. We would leave to work wherever we had to go, and came back the next minute. We were barely sleeping.

Before the weekend, doctors gave my grandmother permission to go home, where she would be more comfortable than in a cold and sterile hospital wing. We all knew what that meant.

Collins and Edgar set up a bed on Mami’s yellow drawing room, and made it as comfortable a space as possible.

My grandmother Luísa also came by, as my dad had asked her to be there for me, if he could not arrive in time.

On the night my Mami passed, I opened the windows for her and played Vivaldi’s Winter and Shostakovich’s Waltz no. 2. When I lowered my bow, Margaret had become a part of the House’s Pantheon.

Collins came in, as soon as he understood the eerie silence, followed by the crying. He took the violin and the bow from my hands, he was crying as well – Your Grace…

- Don’t call me that… No, no… Please… - I crumpled on the floor, as my mind tried denying the meaning of those words.

Grandmother Luísa came in the room and sat on the floor with me, pulling me close in a tight hug, rocking me and shushing my tears. - You have to be strong.

That was always what everyone kept telling me.

I did not want to be strong, but I had to appear to be so as, come the following day, I had to play the head of the House, to the flurry of condolences that seemed never-ending. From friends, to distant relations, peers…

My father offered to organize the wake and the funeral, as soon as he got there, with Tommy and Clara, but I said I would take care of it all. I was the one who knew how the House’s funerals were to be conducted.