Page 33 of Days You Were Mine

On the tube to Camden, Alice and I discuss Samuel’s minor betrayal, a meaningless moment of tiredness that will have preyed on Hannah’s insecurities, I know.

Alice says, ‘It’s only because he’s teething and I’ve been carrying him around all day. But still. I know exactly how Hannah feels.’

‘She’s struggling so much with the whole working-motherthing anyway. Loving her job but feeling she’s missing out on him. She was in tears about it the other night. She feels like she’s letting him down.’

‘There’s never an ideal solution, it’s always some kind of sacrifice.’

Walking along Camden High Street, minutes away from the gig, I broach the subject of how Alice and I should refer to each other. I can’t ask her to lie about our relationship. But full disclosure will trigger unbearable interest, which neither of us wants.

‘So, I was thinking of introducing you tonight as a friend, if that’s OK?’

‘Friends is what we are, Luke,’ Alice says, smiling at me.

I feel the release in my body, a slight loosening of my limbs, and it’s only then that I realise how much tension I have been carrying. It’s not a straightforward thing, the introduction of my secret birth mother to a gathering of colleagues I see day in, day out.

The pub is packed and already I spy a hefty sprinkling of A&R men, circling around the bar. On the surface, back-slapping and man-hugging and exchanging news, but beneath that, each man is clenched with the desire to win. There’s so much pressure in A&R. Sign an act that goes stratospheric and you secure the entire record company’s future; that’s everyone from the packers in the warehouse to the designers in the art department. Everyone treats you like a god. Waste money on a flop and you’ve the prowess of a donkey.

It’s a relief to catch sight of Ben at the bar.

‘Thank fuck,’ I say. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d come.’

‘Problems?’

‘Just my own weirdness.’

With me and Ben there’s never any need to explain. Wetake three beers over to the corner, where Alice, I see to my horror, is talking to Gareth the accountant. Gareth is in his fifties and he has an unchanging gig uniform: plain round-neck white T-shirt, jeans that are not definitely made of denim and may well be elasticated. Not that it matters. The problem with Gareth is twofold: he’s intensely boring – a job prerequisite, you might say – and woefully lecherous. And Alice is clearly in his sights. Christ, this I really didn’t need tonight.

‘Hello, Luke,’ says Gareth, though he doesn’t take his eyes off Alice. ‘Just been chatting to your lovely friend.’

Alice hugs Ben and asks after Elizabeth.

‘Working late, catching up on her notes. She wanted to come but she’s snowed under.’

‘There’ll be plenty more times, I’m sure. Luke says the band are amazing.’

When Alice’s phone rings moments later, I can tell from her tone of intimacy that the caller is Rick.

‘That’s a shame,’ she says to me. ‘I was hoping Rick would come, but he’s in the middle of something, working late.’

As she goes to put her phone away, it slips out of her hand and lands face down on the floor.

‘Oh shit,’ she says, as I crouch down to pick it up. ‘Is it cracked?’

I turn the phone over in my hand and examine it, and I feel the cold creep of dismay. For her screen saver is a picture of Samuel I’ve never seen before. Why is there a picture of my baby on her phone? And if she’s going down that route, shouldn’t it actually be one of me? For a moment I’m too shocked to speak and I don’t even know why.

‘Isn’t that your baby, Luke?’ Gareth asks, and Alice and I speak at the same moment.

‘Yes, I look after him while Luke and Hannah are at work.’

‘Alice is my birth mother.’ The surprising admission slips out. ‘She’s Samuel’s grandmother.’

There’s a tense little moment of silence while Alice and I stare at each other, heat rising in her cheeks.

‘Uh-oh, cat’s out of the bag,’ Ben says.

‘It is rather,’ Alice says, but she’s smiling. ‘We’re still getting used to it. And actually, Gareth’ – he looks thrilled that she’s remembered his name – ‘it’s meant to be a secret. Luke’s mother doesn’t know yet. So we’re keeping it quiet.’

‘My lips are sealed,’ Gareth says. ‘And let me tell you, you look nothing like a grandmother.’

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