=CHAPTER THREE=

Phil filled his cup with fresh coffee and added a teaspoon of sugar. He blew on it to cool it down and moved over to the next table to allow another person, a young woman, to use the coffee machine. He glanced over at her - she had to be at least 15, he decided. She wore a white singlet under an open teal cardigan and black jeans. Her black hair was brushed neatly and fastened back with butterfly clips.
Phil strode over to the row of chairs outside the door and took a sip of his coffee. Lord knew how many cups of coffee he's consumed since the accident. The girl came out a little while later and sat before him.
"How's Michael doing?" she asked nervously. He sat his cup on the floor near his feet and looked at her.
"He's getting better," he replied. "Quicker than we'd first predicted..."
"I know someone who was a lighting assistant on your tour. He was there. So was I."
Phil turned his full attention to the girl. "You do?" She nodded. "Who is he?"
She took a deep breath. "My dad."
"Your dad?"
"Yeah. He'd been working on your tour since the beginning. He didn't do anything wrong, though. It must've been a problem with the rigging or something. Not the crew themselves, just the equipment. It wasn't up to scratch."
Phil nodded. "That's what we were thinking. Could you come for a walk with me?"
She froze. "Where?"
"To see Mike, and tell him what you told me."
She started to walk away. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you."
"No, wait." Phil gently grabbed her arm. "What makes you say that?"
She turned to face him. "I don't want to get my dad in trouble. He's not responsible."
"He won't get in trouble. We'll make sure of that."
She looked at him hesitantly, then nodded. "Alright."

"Mike?" Phil knocked on the door. Mike turned his wheelchair around from the window to face the door. "Do you have a moment?"
"Well, i'm not doing anything else. What can I do for you?" Mike asked.
"I have someone here that I think you should see." Phil turned to the girl. "Sorry, I don't know your name."
"My name's Leah."
Phil led her into the room. "Mike, this is Leah. She needs to tell you something."
"Really? Well, don't be shy, Leah, what is it?"
Leah took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and finally said, "My father worked as a lighting assistant on the day of the accident."
Mike nodded. "Go on."
"He told me that the cause of the accident was not the crew, but the actual equipment. He'd pointed it out to the 'head honcho' but he was told not to worry about it."
"Is he with you now?"
"No. He's gone interstate - on business, apparently. I haven't seen him in a month."
"Why didn't you come and tell us about it earlier?"
"I...i'm scared. I don't want my dad in trouble, behind bars or anything. He honestly didn't mean any harm, Michael. Please don't blame him."
Mike wheeled himself closer to Leah. "I'm not blaming him. If what your father told you is true, it's nobody's fault. Tell me something - if you were able to get your dad back home as soon as possible, would be able to sign a statement for us?"
Leah nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Do you want me to give him a call now?"
"That'd be great. Thanks for your help, Leah."
"That's okay. I hope you get better soon."
"So do I." He smiled and shook Leah's hand.

"Toby! Oi! Toby!"
Toby looked up and saw Andrew hurrying over to him from across the shopping centre, looking around to avoid anyone recognising him and stopping him. Toby put down the unpurchased newspaper and walked out of the newsagent, meeting Andrew halfway across the floor.
"Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you were at home," Toby said. Andrew shrugged and put his hands in his pockets.
"I just came out for a walk. Get some fresh air, you know?"
"Well, you don't want to be bombarded with fans right now, believe me, this place is packed. Wanna come to the park with me?"
"Yeah, okay."

When they reached the park, they were walking along the footpath slowly.
"So you just couldn't stand being home by yourself?" Toby asked.
"Something like that. I'm used to having Mike running around after me getting me to pick up after myself. Collectively, we leave the house looking like a bomb hit it."
"Don't worry, Andrew. He'll be home soon. Actually, you should be enjoying this free time to yourself - I mean, finally, some peace and quiet!" Toby joked. Andrew forced a smile.
"Yeah, I guess so." Andrew sighed.
Toby stopped walking and turned to face him. "What's the matter, Andrew? He's going to be okay."
Andrew shook his head sadly. "If it weren't for me, this wouldn't have happened."
"What do you mean, if it weren't for you? We all did what we could. We saved ourselves. You shouldn't feel guilty."
"Toby, that's my brother in there! My brother is in hospital suffering and I can't do a goddamn thing about it except stand back and watch! It hurts me to see him like this!" Andrew hung his head and ran his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Hey..." Toby rested his hand on Andrew's shoulder.
"It hurts too much." Andrew wrapped his arms around his friend and hugged him, burying his head in his shoulder. Toby returned the gesture, closing his eyes.
"It's okay, Andrew," Toby whispered, soothingly rubbing Andrew's back. They both said a silent prayer to God with Michael in mind. If all they could do aside from spectating was pray, they were going to do it as much as they could.

=TO BE CONTINUED=

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