Page 103 of Going Solo

I stayed to help Mum clean up the salon. Dad arrived with some of the boys from the construction company, and they set about repainting and replacing broken and burnt fixtures. By six o’clock that evening, thanks to a massive team effort, the salon was almost restored. Mum had lost a day’s trade, and goodness knew what the day had cost Dad, let alone Aunty Cheryl’s buttocks, but the salon was back to something like normal. As Mum folded the last of the clean towels, I knew normal wasexactlywhat I wanted. And I could have either normal or Cole Kennedy, but not both.

“I’ll put those away,” I said. “I need to make a call. I’ll lock up. You go home.”

With nothing of interest left to photograph, the press had gone home. They had their story for tomorrow. I pulled the new curtains across the rail and sat on the floor in the back room with my back against the cupboard. The air was warm and damp from the dryer, but I found myself shivering. The place smelt like fresh paint. I pulled out my phone and considered sending a text but decided Cole deserved better than that. He picked up on the first ring.

“There’s my beautiful boy,” he said. “Are you here? I’ll send Fiona to go get you.”

I couldn’t speak. The words had left me completely.

“Tobes?”

“I…”

“Are you OK? What’s up?”

“I’m at the salon,” I said, and I told him what had happened.

“Toby, I’msosorry. Look, I’m onstage in like an hour’s time, but I can fly home right after the show. Stockholm’s not that far. I can be with you by about one o’clock. Sooner if Mitch will let me parachute out over Colchester.”

“No!” I said, a little too forcefully. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m happy to do it. I’ve got the WebFlix camera crew here filming the show and tonight’s meet-and-greet, so I can’t bail on that, but I’m happy to come if you need me.”

“Cole, I can’t do this.” It spilt out of me, and the overwhelming feeling was relief.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I should have said so the other day, but you looked so sad and I couldn’t, but… I can’t do this.”

“Nooo, no, no, no. Please don’t do this?—”

“I’m a normal person, Cole. I want a normal life. I don’t want fame. Not on this scale. I don’t want to date a pop star. This circus, it’s not for me.”

“Toby, what are you saying? Don’t be sill?—”

“This isn’t only about me. This is about my family. The people and places I care about.”

“Are you at home? I’ll be right there. It’ll take me like two or three hours. Don’t move.”

“Don’t you dare!” I said. “Your fans have paid to see a show. My cousins are in that audience, and they’ll be devastated if you cancel. So will thousands of other people. So will your insurance company. And Fiona would kill us both. Please, do your job. Do the show.”

“Do the show.” Cole laughed. It was hollow. He sounded completely deflated. I felt terrible, but I had done the right thing. All I had to do now was stick to my guns.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “You deserve so much better. You deserve someone who can handle being seen in public with you. You deserve that person who can ride the waves and show the world they’re proud of you. I’m sorry that person isn’t me.”

“But… Iloveyou,” Cole said.

“I know. I love you too.”

And I hung up the phone.

I reached up to the benchtop, pulled down the stack of warm, freshly folded towels onto the floor, curled myself up in them, and burst into tears.

Where’s Toby, Cole?

Has Cole Kennedy already been dumped by on-again, off-again squeeze DJ Tobias Lyngstad?

The pair hasn’t been seen in public together since being caught canoodling in the pop star’s garden.

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