Oliver and I catch an early morning flight out of Australia the next morning. There’s no way we can go back on the same flight as Peter. The tension would have been unbearable.

We arrive in London, and then head to Oliver’s house. It is a spacious mansion with beautiful Gothic architecture and lots of land. “It’s beautiful, Ollie,” I say as we pull up in front of the house. “Thanks. Welcome home…if you like. I know that you’ve got your own place and all, but I’d love it if you just moved in with me.” I smile and trace my finger along his swollen jaw. “I’d love to. I’ll start moving my things here maybe later this week, after we’ve rested up some.”

He sighs. “Now, the big qusetion is what to do about your things at Peter’s place. I could ask Adam to get them for you.” I frown. “I’d hate to get him mixed up in all of this. But, he’s the only neutral party in the band right now.”

Oliver snickers. “What band?”