The Sauna Part 250

It was raining and dreary when we touched down in London, having left Finland immediately after the show. The gray skies and damp climate rather fit my picture of what I imagined Britain to be like. We had a few days to recover and I was glad for the break and the opportunity to see some of the country. The best part of traveling, besides spending time with Jon and the guys, had been seeing so many places and being exposed to so many cultures.

Jon loved the U.K. the best and it probably had more to do with familiarity than anything else. We spoke the language and things felt more ordinary as the culture wasn’t that far from our own. After being away where things seemed so very different, England felt almost like coming home. The problem this time was that one of us would soon actually be going home.

I called Jim to assure him that I would be leaving in a few days and he told me that he’d spoken with Cherie every day since the arrest. Dave had been released from jail, but he hadn’t contacted her and she felt pretty safe with Jared keeping an eye on her. Despite this, Jim was anxious to see her and make certain himself that she was really okay. I felt the same way and decided then that I would stop off in Buffalo for a few days and check for myself before heading back to Colorado and Jim was agreeable and somewhat relieved. We went to bed shortly thereafter as it was already late and we wanted to get an early start in the morning.

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I could easily have spent a month browsing the stores and shops of London’s West End and no shopping trip would have been complete without a visit to Harrod’s. I was rather shocked by the prices for what I considered ordinary items, but it was Harrod’s history and lore that made it famous-not it’s bargains. The store had existed since the mid-1800’s and had operated a number of businesses, from ship building to houses and I was rather intrigued when I learned that Sigmund Freud had even been embalmed here!

After our tour of the infamous Harrod’s, Jon was anxious to take me to Covent Garden. It was time I replenished my supply of higher end clothing and there was no shortage of choices when it came to designer names as well as charming boutiques. I wasn’t the only one who took advantage of the opportunity to embellish my wardrobe and soon we were loaded with bags full of fabulous items. We deposited all of our purchases back in the limo and stopped for afternoon tea at the Savoy Hotel. I felt pretty sophisticated for the first time in my life as we sipped our tea and feasted on crisp cucumber finger sandwiches.

Shopping with Jon was no longer the culture shock it had been in the beginning, but I felt more at home when we finally hit Soho. The streets were densely packed with all manner of shops, cafés and restaurants and on a lark we actually took a rickshaw tour of the area. I’d have felt safer on one of the motorbikes we saw tooling around, but the ride made me laugh and it was something even Jon hadn’t done previously.

The weather was chilly and the constant drizzle of rain kept us from making it a longer ride and I was relieved to set foot to pavement after such an experience. The day had whizzed by and we should have been tired, but the excitement and thrill of so much to see had kept us distracted and so served it purpose. Shopping was still the best cure for the blues and today certainly was no exception.

It was late in the evening and our snack at the Savoy had merely held us over and we were both hungry and in need of some nourishment. We chose the St. Moritz for our supper as the memory of the Alps had left me with a taste for German cuisine and the place caught my eye on our hayride from hell. The restaurant did not disappoint and we snacked on fondue while we waited for the main meal.

Our heavy moroseness had finally taken its leave and we cuddled together as we fed each other bits of bread dripping with cheese. Jon licked my finger and I licked his lips and soon we were both snuggled in a passionate kiss. The waiter politely cleared his throat to get our attention and we reluctantly broke our embrace as he set down our plates.

“So, babe, should we check out the nightlife or stay in tonight?” Jon asked with a leer that left me no doubt as to what he preferred.

“I’m feeling a bit mellow and a long soak in a hot bath would really hit the spot” I said lasciviously with my hand on his thigh.

“Sounds like a plan” he grinned as he began to eat a bit faster.

We returned to the hotel and as good as his word, Jon drew a bath. I called down to the desk and, using a little finesse, managed to get us some candles and a bottle of wine. Soon we both were submerged in a steaming hot tub of water surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight. I laid back against Jon and closed my eyes, luxuriating in the feel of his strong arms around me and the steady rise and fall of his chest. I wanted to make sure the memory was etched in my mind before I returned to the cold, lonely house in Colorado.

“So tomorrow we’re going to Stonehenge, and then on to Glastonbury?” his voice broke through my reverie.

“Does that sound like too much?” I wondered as they had the next show later that evening.

“No, it’ll be fine. I’ll let the guys run the sound check this time; I don’t really need to be there and that’ll give us more time” he said quietly.

“Should we invite Richie? He might want to come” I asked lazily.

“No, I don’t want to share you more than I have to on our last day together” he answered sadly.

“Jon, it’s not that I want to go home, you know. I can’t expect Jim to stay there forever and I haven’t even checked in on Backstage or done much of anything while I’ve been away” I protested, feeling defensive.

“Baby, I know. I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. Unless, of course, it was working and you’d reconsider and stay?” he said with a bit of chagrin.

I turned to look at his face and I knew he was joking, sort of. I felt the tears beginning to form as I stared in his eyes and I longed to tell him I’d stay. We’d had a wonderful time and it was longer than we had originally planned. I knew I was greedy, but his eyes drew me into his soul and I found myself unable to look away. Jon touched my cheek and swiped at the tear as it rolled down my face.

“Trish, I’m sorry. I can’t seem to stop myself. You just don’t know what it’s meant to have you here all this time. It’s been almost painless as far as tours go and I’m just being selfish. I won’t say it again” he apologized.

“It’s okay, love, I understand. You aren’t the only selfish one here” I assured him, trying to smile.

He folded me to him and rested his chin on my head and we stayed like that silently for what seemed like an eternity. Jon was waging his own battle to bite back his tears and he was determined to stay strong and not fall apart. After all, this is all thanks to me and my lifestyle and there’s no one to blame but myself. You’d think I’d be used to saying goodbye at this stage in the game, but it’s never seemed quite this hard. The water was losing its warmth and the evening was losing its luster and that isn’t how he wanted the day to end.

“Let’s go to bed, babe” he murmured softly.


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We met the guys early for breakfast and Jon asked them to carry the sound check as he explained our plans. They seemed surprised, but they understood and assured him that they’d make sure all was ready when he arrived at the venue. Tonight’s show was at the Hammerstein Apollo and it was another small crowd compared to the magnitude of a full scale tour. We said our farewells and made our way out to the waiting limo for the two hour ride to one of the world’s most famous treasures.

Although it was cold, we were blessed with a magnificent day and the sun was high in the sky when we stepped out onto the still, frozen earth. We were alone, as not many tourists chose to visit during the winter months, and there was a hushed silence as we stood there and gazed at the giant monoliths. Snippets of legend ran through my mind and I could almost imagine a trail of revelers winding their way to the tor, carrying torches, from the banks of the Avon. Druid celebrations were still held there with special permission during the solstices and the equinoxes.

The breeze had kicked up as we drew a bit closer, but recent concerns of erosion had forced the English Heritage to restrict access to the inner circle of stones. Despite this, I held my breath and stood still, and listening closely I could almost make out the sound of chanting voices whispered across the winds of antiquity. Or perhaps it was the call of the spirits of long dead ancestors buried beneath the standing stones. The magikal feel of the place was so palpable that I dropped to my knees and paid homage to the Gods and Goddesses who’d long ago been worshipped at this sacred site.

Jon knelt beside me and we repeated the words to an ancient invocation and we both stiffened as we felt the presence of deity within us. I reached for his hand and held it in mine as we breathed in the crisp air and offered our prayers, once again acknowledging the role of the Gods in blessing our lives. As we turned to go, a raven flew over head and landed within the circle, calling out sharply to let us know we’d been heard.