Page 61 of Our Song

‘Can you actually see where you’re going from under there?’

‘Just about,’ he says.We’re on the narrow bit of pavement under the railway bridge now, and a man around our age is coming towards us.As he gets nearer I can see his eyes narrow as he peers at Tadhg.

‘Hey,’ he says.‘Are you Tadhg?Your man who does the winter song?’

And to my immense surprise, Tadhg says, in a truly terrible Yorkshire accent, ‘No, but I get that all the time!’

‘Oh, right,’ says the stranger.‘Sorry, man.’And he walks on.

When we’re out of earshot I grab Tadhg’s arm and say, ‘Oh my God, what wasthat?’

Tadhg looks sheepish.‘I know the accent could do with some work.’

‘It definitely could!’I realise I’m still holding his arm and let go.‘Especially if you’re always giving people that line.’

‘I’m not!’he says.‘I mean, the public pay my wages.I always try to be friendly and polite and everything.I don’t mind having a chat.But sometimes, if I’m distracted or busy or there’s something I should be focusing on, then I just kind of fob them off as best I can.And this walk is meant to be for you.So I fobbed.’

‘Oh,’ I say.I’m touched by his concern.‘Well, thanks for doing a terrible accent then.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ he says.‘Come on, let’s cross here.’

We cross the road and walk onto the wide grass band that divides the main coast road from the pedestrian path that runs alongside the sea wall of Dublin Bay.I presume we’re going to follow the main path, the one that runs parallel to the coast road.But Tadhg turns in the opposite direction, where the path curves around the bay and ends, after just a few hundredmetres, in a tangle of brambles broken by a stone wall and some railings.

‘This walk is going to be much shorter than I thought,’ I say.‘This is a dead end.’

‘You’ll see!’

When we reach the stone wall, I realise that there’s a gap in it.There’s a boulder in front of the gap, so it isn’t as evident from a distance, but you can walk around the boulder and pass through the gap.And there, behind the wall …

‘How did I not know this was here?’I gasp.

In front of me winds a sandy, stony path.On the right of the path rises an embankment of thick brambles.On the left is a large patch of grass and some low trees, and behind them is the sea, sparkling in the early spring sunlight.The greenery blocks the noise of the busy nearby roads.It’s like we’re suddenly in the middle of the countryside.

‘We used to drink cans down here when I was a teenager,’ says Tadhg.

I look around this secret slice of seaside in the middle of the city and feel a little of my tension melt away.

The path is so narrow we have to walk in single file, with Tadhg leading the way.

‘So,’ he says, ‘now our first week’s almost over, how do you feel it went?’

I’m glad he can’t see my face as I try to figure out what to say.My old instincts kick in.Don’t be more into being with himthan he is into being with you.Don’t, for the love of Goddon’t, give even a hint of how much hanging out with him again is starting to mean to you.

But I can be honest about the music.Because playing music with him again has been, well, magical.

I say, ‘Um, good.I think.We’ve got a lot of work done.What about you?How do you feel it went?’

‘Also good.’

Now I wish I could seehisface.

‘Very good, actually,’ he adds.‘I’m really glad you agreed to do this.’

‘Yeah,’ I say to his navy wool-coated back.‘So am I.’

We climb up a narrow path with brambles and bushes on both sides, then the path widens, the embankment on the right is replaced by a playing field, and we’re in a clearing.There are railings between us and the sea, and we lean on them and look out at the water.I take a deep breath of salty air, let it out and gaze across the bay to the distant horizon.

‘Ever tempted to just take to the waves and sail off into the wide blue yonder?’

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