Page 40 of Something Borrowed

“Don’t you want to know what I’m thinking of doing?”

I smile in his direction. “I trust you, Lennon, but if you want confirmation, just run it by me or Kem.”

“Epic,” he says, sounding extraordinarily like my nephew. “I had the idea of melting down old damaged coloured vinyl and making some tea services. We could make a psychedelic artist display and have it like you’ve gone through the looking glass. My sister could make the cups and teapots. She’s dead creative and makes a mint on Etsy.”

“Get Kem to advance you the money, then, and keep receipts. And give him your receipts from the rocker display while we’re discussing it.”

“Will do. I’ll get my folder of ideas out of the staff room.”

His footsteps race away, and Kem chuckles.

“Hates homework but has a folder of ideas. That was a good suggestion, Stan.”

“I’m full of them.”

“Unfortunately for the world’s sanity, they usually involve Rafferty.”

I clear my throat because that reminds me too much of last night. Raff and I had sat so close together, and it had been hard to remember not to lean on him as he put his arms around me. I’m not physically affectionate with many people, because I like my distance. But that has never applied to Raff. From day one, he’s been in my space, and I allowed it, marvelling but liking it too. But now I have to think consciously about what I’m doing around him, and it’s tiring. Bennett’s phone call had been welcome, and even though it hadn’t been the best of evenings, it had still been better than sitting beside Raff and not touching him.

Pushing the memory away, I say, “I had a phone call from Finn Jameson this morning.”

“You say that so casually. Only Finn Jameson, whose band won five awards at those boring old Brits.”

I smirk. “Well, he’s become just Finn to little old me.”

“Get you, Star Shagger.”

“Chance would be a fine thing.”

“What did he want? Aren’t they on tour?”

“They got back last week. They’ve got a new album, and he wondered if we’d like them to play at the store.”

“Fuck off.”

I smile. “I know it sounds incredible, but they love the shop and want to pay back. He says they’ve got fond memories of Pat, who gave them a lot of good advice at the beginning.”

“Was it the phone number of his dope dealer and how to smuggle drugs into the country in your turn-ups?”

I snort. “Probably. Thank God Finn never picked up on Pat’s fashion sense.”

“Who can forget that tartan cap?”

“It was a tribute to Big Country and Scotland.”

“What did they ever do to deserve that? The brim of the cap was bigger than my head.” He laughs. “So, Finn Jameson is playing here.”

“Yeah, they’ll play an acoustic set if we want.”

“If we want? Oh, because it’s so likely we’ll say no.”

“I don’t know about that. Can we fit their fans in? They’re traditionally a bit…”

“Enthusiastic?”

“I was going to say deranged, but let’s run with yours. It’s more polite.”

“How about a competition? That way, we can set the numbers and make it an intimate gig. I wouldn’t mind getting intimate with Finn.”

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