Page 91 of When We Were Young

‘They were Will’s bandmates,’ she says, putting my plate on the wooden crate. ‘Matty played bass guitar, and Reuben played the drums. Will and Matty were friends since they were little.’

‘Would he talk to us? About Will and his music?’

‘I’m sure he’d love to.’

After lunch, Chloe and I go through more boxes. At the bottom of the first box I look in, I find a cassette. Handwritten on the label, it says28/07/99in marker pen.

‘How do we listen to it?’ asks Chloe.

‘Will must have had something to play it on. Maybe it’s around here somewhere.’

I bag up the tape, make a note of it on the spreadsheet, and carry on.

A while later, Chloe says, ‘Can we play that tape on this?’

She pulls a machine out of a box and places it on the trestle table. It has a cassette-shaped compartment at the top.

‘Maybe, if it still works.’

We find a power socket and plug it in. I put the tape into the compartment and when I press the play button, it almost swallows my finger. The tape whirs and the circles in the centre turn.

‘It works!’ I say, delighted.

The machine emits the muffled, tinny sound of faraway music.

‘Where’s the volume?’ asks Chloe.

I fiddle with all the dials, but nothing happens.

Then I notice a cable dangling out of the back of the machine.

‘There must be separate speakers,’ I say.

Chloe and I empty the entire box and find two small speakers at the bottom. We connect them to the cables, and when I press play this time, the music plays at the perfectvolume. We crouch over the speakers and rewind the tape back to the beginning.

‘I’ll record it,’ I say, setting my phone close to the speakers.

The music is haunting. It begins with a simple melody on an acoustic guitar and builds in layers. After a long, winding intro, Will Bailey sings and the sound of his voice gives me chills. Our eyes meet – Chloe feels it, too.

I’ve looked up every Will Bailey song there is, but I’ve never heard this one.

‘Does his family know about this song? Should we tell Mrs Bailey?’ asks Chloe.

‘Not yet,’ I say. I want to keep it to ourselves for now.

If I can’t hear

your voice in my ear

Your laughter and your tears

Your secret hopes and fears

If I can’t hear

you talk about your goals,

Your thoughts and your ideas