Page 8 of Going Solo

“But I think you’re incredible,” Johanna said. “And you deserve to go through to London.”

A big green tick appeared above her head, and the audience burst into rapturous applause. Felicity Quant raised her hand, and a hush descended over the room. It all came down to this moment. Everyone knew the other two judges had no real say. Felicity’s word was final.

“You’re a good-looking young man,” she said. “You’re confident. You can sing. You can move. You can clearly play guitar. Do you play anything else?”

“Piano,” Cole said. “Most instruments, I guess. With time.” Felicity nodded. “And I write my own songs as well,” Cole added.

Felicity raised an eyebrow. “Who are you here with today?”

Cole pointed to the wings, where Dorinda was standing with Orla. The camera beside me swung around to focus on them.

“My mum,” Cole said.

Dorinda and Orla waved into the camera.

“And you come from Suffolk, I believe?” Felicity Quant said.

“My family have a dairy farm,” Cole offered.

Felicity’s eyebrows were on the move again. “I come from Suffolk,” she said. “Do you know Long Melford?”

“Of course! We’re only over in Polstead.”

This was more than small talk. This was Felicity Quant establishing a personal connection with Cole. She only did this when she knew she was sitting on a superstar. This was a moment that would be cut up and reused all over YouTube for “humble beginnings” videos for years to come.

“In the Dedham Vale!” she said. “I know it. Do you ever go to the Crown at Stoke-by-Nayland?”

“I perform there sometimes!”

The penny dropped. Felicity already knew that. It was obvious to me in that moment that Cole was going through. Heck, he was a real contender to win.

“They do a great Sunday roast,” Felicity said.

Cole nodded.

“And what’s your heritage?” she asked. The question was the elephant in the room. Wheredidthose smouldering dark good looks come from? Because they weren’t from Orla, and they certainly weren’t from a sunbed.

“My father is Polstead born and bred,” Cole said. “My mum is from County Wicklow in Ireland. But if you mean why am I so brown when my parents are so white, I’m adopted.”

That made sense.

“I don’t know the full story, but I know my birth mother was white British. I don’t know where my father was from. Greece, maybe. Perhaps somewhere in the Middle East. All I know is I was fostered out to my parents as a baby… and they must have taken a shine to me, because they adopted me.”

The audience applauded. Johanna Thorsdóttir managed to weep—something she did so often I was pretty sure her contract insisted she was paid by the tear. It was a weird vibe, and I thought Cole looked uncomfortable.

“To be fair, I think I was too good at milking cows, and they couldn’t afford to let me go.”

Laughter rippled through the audience.

“But my parents are amazing people. As are my sister, Fiona, and my brother, Tully. We’re a close family. I’m doing this for them. To make them proud.”

The audience clapped uproariously. Cole smiled. Felicity raised a hand. She’d got all the narrative and all the footage she needed for now.

“Well, I look forward to meeting them all in London,” she said, and pressed the button for the big green tick.

ChapterFive

If there was applause as I walked onto the stage, I couldn’t hear it over the sound of my heart pounding out a drum solo in my ears. Felicity Quant spoke, but I didn’t hear that either. I felt my hands start to shake and stuck them in my back pockets. I saw myself on a screen. I couldn’t have looked more terrified if the clown fromITwas staring back up at me from the orchestra pit.

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