Page 48 of Our Song

I’m also not exactly eager to listen to any potential lyrics about Tadhg’s recent love life.Or current love life, if he has one.If he does, I don’t want to find out about it by playing the guitar while he sings heartfelt words about it.I’d rather leave the songs wordless for now.

We’re just finishing lunch when I think of Sarah’s daughter Ellie.I feel a bit weird asking him, but then I think how happy it would make Ellie and I realise my embarrassment isn’t as important as her getting a message from her hero.

‘Um, can I ask a favour?’I say.

‘Sure,’ says Tadhg.

‘You remember my friend Sarah?Well, her daughter Ellie’s a big fan of yours and … oh God, this is a bit cringe, in fact it’s extremely cringe, and I’m only asking because she’s such a great kid.Would you mind doing a video message, just saying hi and wishing her happy birthday?It would make her so happy.She sang ‘Another City’ at her school show last year.’

‘Of course, I’d be delighted,’ says Tadhg.‘Her name’s Ellie?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Okay.Get filming.’

The video is very charming – Tadhg starts by wishing Ellie happy birthday and saying he’s honoured she sang his song at her school show, then says he hopes making music makes her happy and that she keeps on doing it.He finishes by whispering, ‘Oh yeah, and your mam and her friends are allextremely cool and you should listen to their wisdom at all times.’

I laugh and stop filming.‘That was perfect,’ I say.‘Thanks.’

‘My pleasure,’ he says, and then the doorbell rings.

‘Sam’s early,’ says Tadhg in surprise.‘That’s not like him.’He gets up and goes out to the hall, where a screen linked to the security camera shows whoever’s waiting at the gate.But instead of the buzzer that opens the gate, I hear Tadhg’s voice saying, ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’I go out to the hall.

‘What’s up?’I say.

Tadhg points at the screen.‘I should have known Sam would never be early.It’s Hugo.’

‘Hugo the manager?You weren’t expecting him, were you?’

‘No, I was not,’ says Tadhg.‘Shit, I suppose I can’t leave him waiting there.Tara’s not checking the door today.’He presses an icon on the screen and says, ‘Hugo?Did we have an appointment I forgot about?’

‘Tadhg!Hi!’The accent is south Dublin private school, the tone ingratiating.‘I just thought I’d pop round before I head back to London.’

‘Okay,’ says Tadhg.‘But you know I’m busy in the studio right now, don’t you?’

‘Of course, of course!’says Hugo.‘I just want to run something by you.It’ll only take five minutes.’

‘Fine,’ says Tadhg.‘Come on in.’After he hits the buzzer and opens the front door, he turns to me and says, ‘Sorry about this.’

‘It’s grand,’ I say.‘I’ll make myself scarce.’

‘Would you mind staying just a minute?’says Tadhg.‘Hopefully seeing you will make him realise this fortnight with you is serious and he’ll give up on the other lads.Ah, Hugo.’

A fair-haired, pink-cheeked man in his late twenties is climbing the steps and now stands in the doorway, clad in an expensive-looking wool coat over jeans and polished brogues.

‘Tadhg!’he cries.He beams at me.‘And who do we have here?’

Tadhg steps closer to me.‘This is Laura.I told you about her last night.We’re working together at the moment.’

‘Of course!’says Hugo.‘Great to meet you, Laura.What did you say her surname was, Tadhg?Murphy?’

‘McDermott,’ I automatically correct him.

He sticks out a hand and I shake it.His grip is painfully firm.‘Hugo Delaney.And you’re not a professional musician, are you, Laura McDermott?’

‘No, I usually work in advertising.’

I’m not just some wannabe musician, Hugo!I have a proper career!

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