And I thought,Good.
Because just in that moment, at the height of my humiliated pain, I wanted to hurt him.I wanted to make him feel as small and stupid and awful as I felt now.I wanted to wound him at his very core.
And that meant attacking the thing he cared about the most.Even if what I said wasn’t true.
‘Oh my God, ofcourseit is.’My voice was full of contempt.‘Jesus, Tadhg, have you actually listened to those shitty little songs before I made them sound interesting?’
The stunned, horrified look on his face showed my arrow had hit home, and I instantly wanted to take it back.But it was too late, I couldn’t unsay it.I couldn’t undo anything.
Everything was wrecked now anyway.
‘Have a good summer.’I marched out of the room, slamming the door after me with such force it rattled in its frame.I didn’t burst into tears until I was halfway down Camden Street.
The next day I flew to New York.
And that was that.For sixteen years.
Chapter Thirty-Three
2019
Katie and Jeanne have both left for work when I get home, and I’m glad because I don’t think I can face anyone right now.Maybe I do want to be one of those hermits after all.I’ll just sit in my room forever, writing music just for me.I won’t be reliant on Tadhg.I won’t be reliant on anyone.
I’m on autopilot as I go into the kitchen and put the kettle on.While I wait for it to boil, I check my email.Maybe there’ll be an amazing job offer that will change everything.Maybe Leafe wants me to be their creative director.Maybe …
There’s an email from Tara Kelleher entitled ‘Minidisc Recordings’.
I stare at it for a minute before I open it.With everything that’s happened over the past few days, I had forgotten all about those files being digitised.But here they are.A WeTransfer link to my past.To my and Tadhg’s past.
I make the tea.I sit at the table and drink it.And I think.
Then I go upstairs, get my laptop and download the files.
They’re not dated and of course there’s no way to know what’s on each file, so I click on one at random.
The first thing I hear is laughter.My and Tadhg’s laughter.Then his voice, sounding just a little bit lighter, or younger, than it does now, saying, ‘Come on, Lol!Be serious!’
And there’s me, still laughing, saying, ‘Sorry!Sorry.I’ll behave myself now.’
Then I hear the opening guitar line of ‘Anyone But You’.
Except it’s not.At least, not the final version.In this version, the end of the guitar line goes down instead of up.I hear my twenty-one-year-old self play the line twice, then stop and say, ‘I think it might be better this way,’ before playing the version I would go on to play countless times over the next nine months.The version I’ve played a few times over the last week.
‘That’s better,’ says Joanna, and I feel a pang at the sound of her voice.I haven’t talked to her in so long.How did I let her drift out of my life too?How did I let so many things drift out of my life?
‘Definitely,’ says twenty-one-year-old Tadhg.‘And then this for the chorus?’
He plays a chord sequence and sings a familiar melody.
‘Oh yeah,’ says younger me.‘That’s really good.’
I realise this was the moment we wrote it.The actual moment we wrote one of our best songs.Together.As a team.
We really were a team.
I stop the recording and close my eyes, just for a moment.Then I click on another file.
This time it starts with me playing a keyboard line, one that I recognise as the melody of the chorus of ‘Midnight Feast’.I hear Tadhg saying, ‘Come on, Laura!This is ridiculous!Just sing it!’
