Open Arms

"Alright. What does everybody think?"

The studio was quiet save for the tennis ball Phil bounced on the carpet. Malcolm waited in earnest for a response, his patience wearing thin for every bounce. Making a lunge for it, he knocked Phil out of the way, the ball taking off down the hall. "Well done, Mal."

"Put that away, we're havin' a meeting."

January was coming to an end, the eighties off to a pretty good start. Still hot as ever, a slight drop in temperature brought a rise in good moods among the group. Malcolm decided it would be a good idea to pause the music-making, and have a serious talk about the move to London. Phil made no attempt to catch his tennis ball and instead stood by the sofa smoking. Angus took another one from him, this being his third that morning. Malcolm's eyes drifted to everyone in the room, Bon looking down at his shoes, one tapping the carpet. Cliff sat next to Malcolm on the sofa with his head down, thinking what everyone else was thinking. 

"It's gonna take a few weeks to get settled," Bon mentioned.

"Which is why we need to start lookin' now," Malcolm agreed. "Apartments don't come easy or cheap over there an' we need about five of them. Unless someone's willin' to bunk in a double bedroom."

"An' George an' Harry will meet us over there?"

"Yeah, yeah. An' Mutt will be there too, ya' know."

"Do we have to call, or..." Cliff started.

"We'll have to go over there to look, or we can send one over there to look for all, which ain't the most appealin' idea." Malcolm put a hand to his cheek and sighed, wishing it was all over. 

"Sil an' I can get a place next week if that works," Bon said with a shrug. "She's been itchin' to travel an' see Alistair."

"Anytime, as long as it's soon. This album doesn't have a release date or anythin' but we can't be stallin' another year."

"Us four can go together, Mal," Angus spoke up for the first time that morning. Malcolm looked at him, waiting for an explanation. "Might be easier an' worst-case scenario we all live together."

"Yeah, wouldn't that bite," Malcolm muttered. "Phil? What's your plan?"

Taking a look down the hallway for his tennis ball, Phil kicked his foot to the floor. "As soon as the bills are paid at my place I can look for a new one," he finally decided. "Not lookin' for anything too big but ya' don't want a pile of shit either."

"We're not that desperate," Malcolm said turning to Cliff. "Cliff? What do you think?"

"I'm goin' with Bon, that okay?" Bon waved his hand in the affirmative. "Georgeanne an' I might look around in London or Wembley if it ain't too far, or too expensive." Malcolm nodded pulling out a half-empty cigarette case from his pocket.

"Alright, once we all find a place we'll start recordin' what we got. Bon?" He looked up from his shoes, shaking the hair out of his face. "How's the writin' goin'?"

"It's pretty good," he smiled. "Got a few things roundin' up here an' there, ya' know?"

"Anything done?" Malcolm asked.

"Done? Nah," Bon said shaking his head. "Almost done, not yet."

"You lickin' your boots around here, or what?" Malcolm asked smiling. "Alright, get a place to think a bit an' come in when you got somethin'." Bon saluted him, tapping his fingers to his jeans. 

"We startin' the tour in London then?" Angus asked, smoke circling his head. 

"Most likely, George says he can book us a few places there an' then it's up to us to pick the next town. We'll stop at Glasgow an' maybe Manchester. Then Paris."