***
‘Sorry I didn’t have a chance to talk to you at the showcase,’ Jeff apologised. ‘I had to run to another thing.’
‘Right...’ Poppy said. She was still a bit confused as to what this was.
‘I want to tell you I thought you were great.’
‘Who, me?’
‘Yes.’
‘But I’m just the rhythm guitarist,’ Poppy told him. ‘You get that, right? Barnaby is on lead guitar and vocals.’ Poppy felt that if anybody from the band was getting plucked from obscurity, anyone would assume it was going to be Barnaby—including Barnaby.
‘But you sing backup, don’t you? And someone told me you’re the lyricist, too.’
‘Yeah, I do.’
‘I thought the lyrics were good. Your backing was strong, too.’
‘Oh. Thanks,’ Poppy said, absolutely baffled.
‘I was wondering if you had any demos? Maybe you write stuff that you perform by yourself?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Why?’ Poppy asked him outright.
He laughed. ‘Straight to the heart of it? I like your style. I’m trying to find someone for a group.’
‘A group?’
‘Yes, all female, three members. We could do with someone like you.’
‘Me?’ Poppy exclaimed, shocked.
‘We need someone who can compose. And your look could be perfect, with some minor tweaking.’
Poppy frowned. ‘Do you mean a girl group?’
‘It’s a group with girls, yes. I can see you’re thinking that’s not your bag, but this would be different. You’d all play instruments.’
Poppy was spinning out. On the one hand, she was being potentially recruited. On the other, she had never wanted to be a Spice Girl—not even slightly. She wanted to be PJ Harvey in an ideal world.
‘Look, I know what you’re thinking. But you have to remember, this kind of thing can be a stepping stone. If you get the job, it’s just the start. You can move in a lot of different directions with a high profile.’
Poppy had to admit, it was a persuasive argument. Still, she was unsure. She wanted to make music. But like this?
‘So, a demo?’ Jeff asked hopefully.
‘I’ve been working on some stuff,’ she admitted. ‘I’m not sure if I have anything you’d be—’
‘Send me your most polished track,’ he said quickly. ‘The thing you’re most proud of.’
It wasn’t hard to choose. It was “Norah’s Song.” It was easily the one she poured the most hours into. Still, she’d never actually thought anyone else would ever hear it. Showing it to Jeff seemed a bit mad. It would be like flopping her diary and saying, ‘Check it out. I got my heart smashed to bits, and it was all my own fault.’ Poppy didn’t love the idea.
Jeff was watching her carefully. ‘What is it?’
‘What? Nothing.’
‘You have a song in mind, I can tell,’ he said smugly.
‘I mean, yes. Sort of. But I wasn’t thinking it was for... consumption,’ Poppy explained carefully.
‘If it’s your best work, you’d be selling yourself short by not letting me hear it, wouldn’t you? And I’d hate you to miss your shot at a real career because you didn’t put your best foot forward,’ he explained smoothly.
Though Poppy didn’t know if this was a shot she wanted, something was compelling about Jeff’s tone. What if this was it? What if this was the only real opportunity she’d ever get in her whole life, and she was sitting here, considering letting it pass her by? She was going to feel so fucking stupid in twenty years, knowing she was a miserable failure who could have had it all.
But more than that, Poppy was in so much pain right now. She needed something else to think about other than Norah. She needed to stop missing her with her whole body and soul. She needed to lock onto something, anything else.
‘OK, I’ll send you the song,’ Poppy agreed.
Twenty-One
Now
Spring was springing, and winter was finally packing its bags and fucking off. Norah was glad for more than just a weather change. Christmas had not been fun. They’d hosted Max’s parents, who were divorced for good reason. Watching them pretend to be polite to each other (while being passive-aggressive on an unholy level) set Norah’s teeth on edge.
And she was no stranger to a pass-agg parent. Luckily, her own mother was on a winter cruise, so she hadn’t added her dark little soul to the proceedings. The dinner table probably would have collapsed under the weight of bile.
But it wasn’t all bad. Freddie had loved the visit to Santa, getting his new bike, and a trip to the ice-skating rink. Watching him experience joy was like feeling it herself.
