Wolf explored his surroundings. Jacks could eat a dick. He couldn’t believe he’d been pushed into this. Not only pushed, but wedged between Spacey and Kev in the back of a BMW 4x4 like a prisoner being driven to Holloway. He was surprised Jacks let him out at the motorway services for a burger and a slash.
However, once they crossed the Welsh border, even Wolf enjoyed the drive. He announced to the others that when he was filthy rich he’d buy a big pile in the country, bigger than his parents’ gaff in Sussex. As much as he loved the rock’n’roll lifestyle, the beauty of all the greenery around was alluring and he daydreamed about his countryside mansion, butler and all. He wondered how long it would take to get used to the smell of manure, the only thing ruining his lord of the manor fantasy.
By the time they arrived in the village, the boys were drowsy, and dying of starvation. When they tipped Wolf out of the vehicle at Hope, he was adamant he wanted feeding, or was calling a cab. After snooping around, he reckoned it wouldn’t be bad, as long as they weren’t all freaks and weirdos. And by the time he’d left Luna’s room, he was open to the idea of freaks and weirdos, as long as they were as pretty as her.
He stopped in front of a notice board in the downstairs hall and stood for a moment, thinking about business. This could turn out to be an adventure, and if it got the band extra publicity, translating into sales, he was a happy martyr.
Wolf wondered, were martyrs allowed to be happy? Truth be told, he knew getting plonked in rehab was a shrewd move but he liked complaining. Wait until he got out. The lads would be sick of hearing about it.
“I was looking for you.” One of the admin staff touched his elbow. “We need to check your bags. Where have you been?”
Wolf gave her a disarming smile. “Ah, I was nowhere special.”
He picked up his bag and guitar case and followed her to the office, thinking how tight her arse was. He wondered if she was single. It wasn’t professional, losing him like that, naughty girl. Fortunately for her, due to the manner in which he’d been manhandled into the car, he hadn’t had a chance to bring anything with him. Not even a bag of grass.
He sighed, contemplating a month’s sobriety.