Page 82 of One Day Like This (Excess All Areas 1)

Matt finished the rest of his tea. She was right. The drink and drugs made everything feel worse. He was done with it.

“Okay. Close your eyes. Imagine a future where you’re on stage with the Sad Fridays. You’re celebrating twenty years of recording together in a studio filled with platinum discs. Can you imagine that?”

Matt did as she said and sighed. “Yeah, I can. It’s the fucking dream.”

“Try this. Imagine it’s twenty years from now. The band didn’t pan out, but you’re still making music. You’re a singer-songwriter. You perform solo. And you write for other artists. Major artists with big labels. Can you imaginethat?”

“I can. It’s not my preference, but it would still be great. Where is this going, Nan?”

“Bear with me, Matt. Now, imagine a future with Izabel in it. Her face is the first thing you see in a morning, it’s the last thing you see at night. It’s twenty years from now, and you have been married for eighteen years. Your kids are fifteen and thirteen and are in a band that practices in your garage.”

Matt focused, letting the image build in his mind. Izabel on their wedding day. Sunshine filtering through her hair, a white dress, her glorious smile. And kids. He’d not thought past babies. But yeah, kids and music and a loud, playful home. Him and Iz sneaking time together. “Sounds like heaven,” he said, opening his eyes.

Nan smiled. “Right, close your eyes one last time. Everything you just thought about with Izabel, think it all over again, but with a different woman. Any woman. Make her up. Can you imagine that future you just saw without Izabel in it?”

Matt’s eyes flashed open. “Easiest fucking no.” His heart lurched at the idea.

“So, you can imagine a future in music without the band, but you can’t imagine a future in love without Izabel.” She stood and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I think that tells you everything you need to know.”

As he sat in her kitchen, with condensation clinging to the bottom of the windows, he realised his nan, as always, was right. While he could imagine different futures in music, he could only imagine Izabel by his side.

He reached for his phone. It was too late to call Izabel. Instead, he settled for a text.

When I think of my future, the only constant in it is you.

I don’t want to walk away from this without you knowing that.

I’m sorry I was a dick, and in a way, I’m grateful to Joe for showing me just how much I could lose. Because none of the next twenty years will make any sense if you aren’t in them.

I love you, Iz.

Matt cleaned up the dishes and set the kitchen to rights. When he crawled his arse up the stairs and climbed into his old bed, she still hadn’t responded.

But that didn’t stop him from falling to sleep with images of Iz and him, and their future.

14

“I’ll have to figure out what the privacy implications are for showing individuals, but I could definitely build a platform that talks about why the fundraiser is so important,” Izabel said the next day. “Make it separate from our day-to-day activities.”

Joe and Sally, a redheaded social media manager for the BBC at Media City, both nodded.

“Yeah. Tell the story of the shelter through image and personal accounts of its impact. Who is Ibrahim, what compelled him to start the shelter? What is the history of the building you are in? What does a day in the life of the shelter look like? I think you have a compelling story to tell. And when you get all those donations Joe says you are so great at getting, you can share them and tag the company that donated them, so they get social credit. If you are lucky, they might even share the post, right? Anything to build momentum. Remember to post frequently how people can donate.”

Izabel’s fingers cramped from all the notes she’d taken. Joe had been as good as his word in connecting her. Along with Dom and Jackson, they ended up in The Angel Pub the previous evening. Hunkered down in a corner, they’d thrown out a million ideas for the fundraiser.

She’d tried hard to focus, but her mind drifted occasionally to Matt and how she’d left him standing on the street. How she should have reassured him that Dom and Jackson were coming with them for a drink. But perhaps it was good to let him stew over the mess for a little while.

“I can’t thank you both enough for your time this afternoon. You’ve given me so many great ideas that I can get on straight away.”

Sally grinned. “Any time. It’s a legit reason to sneak out of work early. Plus, I have some contacts over at ITV in the regional news department. I’ll drop them a line to see if they can help.”

“You are the absolute best.”

Rain splashed the pavement outside as they reached for the coffee shop door. “Can I give either of you a ride home?” Joe offered. “I’m heading to Didsbury, so it’s not an issue to drop you in Chorlton.”

“I’m going to meet my friend Toni for a sneaky prosecco,” Sally said, pulling on her raincoat. “Keep in touch, Iz.”

They ran to the van and jumped inside, shaking off the rain drops. Joe started the van and pulled out into traffic.

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