Page 20 of Our Song

Brian, aka Brían, is an academic now and lives in Bristol.I knew he and Tadhg had stayed in touch.Tadhg couldn’t make Brian’s wedding five years ago because he was playing some massive gig in Japan.I remember how I felt when I realised I wasn’t going to see him there.A mixture of huge relief and massive disappointment.

‘No, of course it’s not weird,’ I say.Itdoesfeel a bit weird, but neither Tadhg nor Brian has done anything wrong or inappropriate.‘And yes, I am.Working in advertising, I mean.I’m freelance, but I’m starting a new job soon.’

‘So does that mean you’re free right now?’says Tara.

‘Maybe,’ I say warily.

‘Good,’ she says.‘So you should be able to spend some time in Tadhg’s studio working on the song.’

I bristle at the assumption that I can afford to spend my time faffing around a millionaire’s musical playroom.

‘Well, it depends,’ I say.‘As I said, I’m self-employed.I can’t just … not work or stop looking for work.’

‘Oh God, I’m sorry.’Tadhg looks embarrassed.‘I should have made it clear.You’d be paid for your time.’

‘You’d be working from ten to five, at top session-musician day rates,’ says Tara.And she names a sum that is well over twice as much as I was planning to charge per day for doing a freelance stint in an ad agency.‘More if you end up working late.’

I stifle a gasp.This is alotof money.

‘Where’s the studio?’I bet it’s out in Wicklow or Meath or something.And it’ll take me an hour and a half to get there every day.Oh well, now I’ve heard the day rate I’d be willing to take three buses to earn it.

‘Fairview,’ says Tadhg.

I think I’m hearing things.‘What do you mean, Fairview?’

‘Come on, Lol, you know what Fairview is.The northside suburb.You know Marino Crescent?’

Of course I know Marino Crescent.It’s the only Georgian crescent in Dublin, a beautiful curved row of tall eighteenth-century houses situated two miles from the city centre, facing a little park that used to be the owners’ private garden but is now open to all.

But more relevant to me is the fact that it’s fifteen minutes’ walk from Katie and Jeanne’s house.

‘You have a studio in Marino Crescent?’I think I must be goggling at him.

‘Well, and a house.I live there.’

‘I’m sorry,what?’

How the hell did I not know that?I’ve been buying vegetables at the little grocer’s across the road from the Crescent for the last eight months!But I suppose Tadhg isn’t exactly popping into the local shops.I picture the Crescent and realise that one house isn’t quite like the others.While the rest of the front gardens are bordered by low painted iron railings or hedges, one house has erected an elegant ‘green wall’ full of plants, as well as a high wooden gate.There are lots of cameras too.As if whoever lived there really cared about their privacy and security and didn’t want to give callers easy access to the front door.And actually, you do sometimes see quite a lot of teenagers hanging around in the little park in front of the houses.I always thought they were kids from the school down the road.But now I come to think of it, lots of them had that indefinable style (and, in many cases, the golden tans) that suggested they were from America or continental Europe rather than a community school in rainy north Dublin.

‘Is it the house with the plant wall?’I say suddenly.

‘Yeah.’Tadhg looks surprised.‘How do you know it?’

‘I live down the road,’ I say.‘Just off Philipsburgh Avenue.’

‘You do not,’ he says, laughing in disbelief.

I can’t help laughing back.‘I do.I’m in Fresh Market practically every day.God, I can’t believe you live in such an ordinary area.’

‘Well, I did grow up down the road in Clontarf,’ he says, as if I’d forgotten.

‘Yeah, I know!But I assumed you’d live in Killiney or Dalkey or somewhere equally posh now.’

Tadhg shrugs.‘Sure what would I do out in Dalkey?’

‘Hang around with Bono?I don’t know what they do over there!’

‘Well, exactly,’ says Tadhg.‘Neither do I.Northside for life!’

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