I'd Like to be Somebody Else

Chapter 70

This year they were nominated for Album, Single, Video, Group and Producer as the Brit Awards. This year I was going. There was no way we were going to miss this one.

I'd bought a dress and smart clothes for Jimmyi to wear but nothing was going to convince the lads to go clothes shopping even though I was Noel's stylist.

...

"Stace, he's being..." Noel groaned as he passed Jimmyi to me, early in the morning. "Think he's got a cold."

He'd been up half the night, was suddenly really irritable and had a temperature. We knew he was ill hours ago but neither of us would say it. He just had to get ill on the morning of the Brits.

"Yeah, stupid London, making my baby sick." I avoided replying with a sarcastic "No shit."

The lack of sleep, the worrying about my son had put me in a horrible mood, knowing I couldn't go out now just made it worse.

"That's us not going tonight then." He made sure to sound like he wasn't bothered about the awards.

"No, no you're not missing it." I insisted. "Are you really prepared to let Liam go up and collect your awards?"

He shook his head. "No, he can't handle that."

"Do me a favour, keep yourself and your band away from the baby." I told him. "I'm not having any of you say you can't do Top of the Pops or the America tour because your throat hurts."

"I'm not just leaving you to do it, that's not fair on you."

"My job is to care for him, yours is to be in a band." I pointed out.

It didn't matter if I got ill but he couldn't afford to, millions of people would be upset if they couldn't do their jobs.

The lads did take my advice and avoid me and the baby. They all went off drinking, preparing for their big night.

...

They got back in the early hours of the morning with loads of people with them. The music suddenly blasted through the house, everyone talked loudly and continued to party like I wasn't upstairs with our poorly son.

I went and stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching our guests like I was a kid who should be in bed while the adults partied. I didn't know whether to try to mingle with our guests or just go back upstairs and remain forgotten and unknown.

"Liam?" I yelled over the music as he walked past. "Liam, talk to me."

He was going to ignore me, pretend he hadn't seen me but I wasn't going to miss a conversation with a pissed, proud Liam Gallagher.

"What?" He stopped in front of me, he was still clutching on an award in one hand, he had a can in the other.

"So, which category did you win?"

He shoved it in his coat pocket and counted them off on his fingers. "Best Album, Best Group and Best Video. Oasis is the best."

"What is that coat?" I asked, trying to joke.

He was wearing a huge brown duffle coat, that didn't suit him at all.

"It's my coat." he said flatly.

We still weren't on good terms, apparently. I thought we were alright but he was drunk and couldn't hide the truth.

"Liam! What are you doing out here?" A blonde lass came and drunkenly whined at him, I recognised her a little bit.