Page 13 of One Day Like This (Excess All Areas 1)

Matt jogged up the narrow stairs with ugly, white woodchip wallpaper he threw a fresh coat of paint on every couple of years. There was a missing spindle in the wooden railing, and like always, Matt vowed to fix it one day, just like he’d fix the gap under the back door. The band had to catch a break eventually and be able to earn more than just enough. He was a good songwriter, and for all his faults, his brother was a fantastic lead singer.

He glanced into Nan’s room. Condensation lingered on the bottom of the window, and it looked like the black mould was back in the corners above the bed. Matt made a mental note to come back to treat it again. Across the hallway was the smaller of the two rooms. The room he and Jase had shared from the ages of seven and five after their mum had almost killed them. Celebrating New Year’s wasn’t a problem. But twenty-six-year-old Michelle getting pissed off her head, then deciding to tuck Matt and Jase into the back seat of the car and drive them home while she was still drunk had been.

The car was a wreck, they’d all survived with forty-seven stitches, two concussions, and two plaster casts between them. He rubbed his hand along his forearm where the scar sat. Nan wouldn’t let anyone else have them after that. Matt’s dad was unknown. A one-night stand during a two-week holiday in Ibiza. Jase’s, an abusive douchebag. So, they’d become Nan’s, and nobody had argued the point.

Visits with mum had grown further and further apart until the last time he could remember seeing her was his tenth birthday, when she’d stopped off at the labour club for five minutes to drop off a gift for him. He didn’t even know where she was now.

Matt changed the battery just as the front door slammed open downstairs.

“Nan?” His younger brother’s voice boomed through the house. “Your favourite grandson’s here.”

Arrogant fucker.

Matt jogged down the stairs. “If you were her favourite, you’d be the one changing the batteries in her smoke alarm and fixing the mould every time it appeared in the bedroom.”

“You’re confusing favourite and most useful. Watch and learn, Matt. Watch and learn.” In Jase’s hands was a sad looking bunch of flowers. Carnations. Ugly looking things in pastel shades that cost two quid for ten stems, but they were his nan’s favourite and Jase knew it.

“Oh, Jase,” she said. “Such a thoughtful boy.”

Jase threw Matt a smug look over Nan’s shoulder as she hugged him.

“Yeah, he’s a regular saint,” Matt said.

Jase flipped him the bird. “Alex is pissed you’re cooking me his favourite, Nan.”

Nan tutted. “I swear everything is that lad’s favourite.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Nan,” Matt muttered, and Jase grinned.

Matt’s mind drifted to Harry and hisIzzie thisandIzzie that.

And Iz. Smelling like roses, and with eyes so expressive he could read her every thought.

And now he was stuck taking her to a wedding. Like, how was he supposed to explain it to Luke? Luke, who had threatened to leave the band and ditch both Palmer brothers after Jase had spent the night with Izabel. Luke, his best friend, his music co-writer, his bandmate. Luke, who was already going through his own shit.

Matt’s promise to keep Jase away from Izabel was one of the few bits of glue holding the band together.

What the hell had he been thinking?

He should just quit. Build a new group. One that didn’t take so much energy to keep on the straight and narrow.

“Boys. Go wash your hands. Your tea won’t be long.”

Matt watched her head back into the kitchen.

“Do you want a ride to rehearsal tonight?” Matt offered.

Jase shrugged. “Depends. Are you going to be pissed if I tell you I’m not coming?”

Matt turned and looked at him. “You got a good reason?”

“Was able to bag an extra shift at the pub. That’s why Nan is doing tea early.”

Anger flooded him. Jase treated the band like a hobby. “I already paid for the rehearsal space. We’re going to work on some new songs.”

“Steve called me this afternoon. Asked if I could cover for Jen because her kid’s sick. Plus, I’m skint. Need some extra cash.”

“Fuck, it’s like wrangling cats. Alex’s shifts meant we had to do tonight. You need to let Steve know you can’t make it.”

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