“How is Walli?” he said worriedly.

“He’s had a hit of dope, just enough to get him through the gig. He’ll shoot up when he comes offstage. He’s all right to play.”

“Thank God.”

She was wearing satin hot pants and a sequined bra top. She had put on a little weight since the recording sessions, Dave saw: her bust seemed bigger and she even had a cute tummy bulge. He offered her a drink. She asked for a Coke. “Help yourself to a cigarette,” he said.

“I quit.”

“That’s why you’ve put on weight.”

“No, it’s not.”

“That wasn’t a put-down. You look fabulous.”

“I’m leaving Walli.”

That shocked him. He turned from the bar and stared at her. “Wow,” he said. “Does he know yet?”

“I’m going to tell him after tonight’s show.”

“That’s a relief. But what about all that stuff you told me about being a less selfish person and saving Walli’s life?”

“I have a more important life to save.”

“Your own?”

“My baby’s.”

“Christ.” Dave sat down. “You’re pregnant.”

“Three months.”

“That’s why your shape has changed.”

“And smoking makes me puke. I don’t even use pot anymore.”

The dressing-room PA crackled, and a voice said: “Five minutes to showtime, everybody. All stage technicians should now be in performance positions.”

Dave said: “If you’re pregnant, why are you leaving Walli?”

“I’m not bringing up a child in that environment. It’s one thing to sacrifice myself, something else to do it to a kid. This child is going to have a normal life.”

“Where will you go?”

“I’m moving back in with my mom and dad.” She shook her head in a gesture of wonder. “It’s incredible. For ten years I’ve done everything I could to piss them off, but when I needed their help they just said yes. Fucking amazing.”

The PA said: “One minute, everybody. The band are kindly invited to move to the wings whenever they’re ready.”

Dave was struck by a thought. “Three months . . .”

“I don’t know whose baby it is,” Beep said. “I conceived while you were making the album. I was on the pill, but sometimes I used to forget to take it, especially if I was stoned.”

“But you told me that Walli and you seldom had sex.”

“Seldom isn’t never. I’d say there’s a ten percent chance it’s Walli’s baby.”

“So ninety percent mine.”

Lew looked into Dave’s tent. “Here we go,” he said.

“I’m coming,” Dave said.

Lew went, and Dave said to Beep: “Live with me.”

She stared at him. “Do you mean it?”

“Yes.”

“Even if it’s not your baby?”

“I’m sure I’ll love your baby. I love you. Hell, I love Walli. Live with me, please.”

“Oh, God,” she said, and she started to cry. “I was hoping and praying you’d say this.”

“Does that mean you will?”

“Of course. It’s what I’m longing for.”

Dave felt as if the sun had risen. “Well, then, that’s what we’ll do,” he said.