Page 49 of Love You Like That (Excess All Areas 4)

“Can I ask you a favour? Can you stop using the word fine? I’ve asked before, and it’s driving me around the bend. You use it a lot. And often when things are not okay.”

Her eyes went wide. “I didn’t realise I did that.”

“You do. Do you want to leave?”

Zoe nodded. “I do. But it’s mild for late September. Can we find somewhere to sit outside?”

“Yes.” Alex took her hand and led them to the exit.

A young woman stepped into his path. Curves for days, and unusual green eyes. “You’re Alex from Sad Fridays, aren’t you?”

Usually, he’d have stopped. He didn’t want to be that dick who blew off fans. But tonight, he just wanted to walk with Zoe who was attempting to slip her hand from his.

“Sorry. I’m Sam. But I get told I look a lot like Alex.”

The woman looked confused as Alex walked past her, leading Zoe behind him.

“Did you just pretend you aren’t you?” Zoe asked once they hit the street.

“I did. First time I’ve done it. Do you mind me asking how you went deaf?”

“An infection is the best guess. I had ear infections a lot as a child. Gooey ears. They often hurt. I didn’t even notice I had lost hearing to be honest. One of my teachers said I was falling behind in class. Dad asked why. I said I struggled to hear her. And the next thing I knew I was sitting in one of those booths where they play beeps at different pitches. I thought I was meant to beat it to make Mum and Dad happy. The beeps would come at a particular tempo and would say I heard something even when I didn’t. My hearing was recorded as less than average but not terrible. I got a week of being grounded for not paying attention in class. I confessed what I’d done. Had to resit the test all over, and then I was told I was going deaf.”

He squeezed her hand, still in his, wishing she’d not made her earlier comment about brothers. “How did you respond?”

“I didn’t see the point in dwelling on it. Learned to sign. Did what my doctors told me. Pinned my hopes on cochlear implants, then had them squashed when we found out they wouldn’t work for me. Tried to hang out with people who understood and supported me, even if they smother me like Cerys does. I’ve just drifted in my career because, honestly, I have no real clue what to do next. Being a percussionist was all I ever wanted to be.”

He spotted a bench. “Let’s sit here.” So he could face her. So it would be easier for her to lipread and for him to watch her. “I need your help,” he said, suddenly inspired. It was ridiculous he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

“With what?”

“Tell me if I go too fast or lose you.”

“You’ve already lost me a couple of times.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Pause at the end of sentences to let me make sense of what you are saying. It helps.”

“Okay. I’m going to set up an arts centre in Manchester to give access to kids who otherwise wouldn’t get it. It’s growing in my head. But I imagine drama and art and music. I want kids to come and get messy, to express themselves, to play. To feel free of all expectations of them and simply create.”

A minute after he’d finished, Zoe leaned forward in her seat and grasped his wrist. “I love it. Simply Create. That would make a good name for it.”

“Help me figure out what it would take. We can use the time on tour to look at places and develop programs. I want free play for those who just want to come and get messy and try. And I want structure for those who want it.”

“Kids and instruments and music and noise and joy. What if they ran alongside school term for courses? Like an eight-week introduction to drumming. Steel pans, timpani, snares. Oh, and djembe, bongo. I bet the Halle and other orchestras have outreach programs. I bet they’d have tons of knowledge that could help. One of mine and Cerys’s friends from uni plays for them now. Violin. We could ask. Alex,” she said, and he could hear the emotion ripe in her words. “It’s a beautiful idea. And I’ll help.”

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