Confessions Of A Karaoke Queen (24 page)

‘So you just hung out?’

‘Yes.’ He smiles properly this time. ‘We just hung out. At first Luke didn’t want to be here – it wasn’t his normal routine, it was … difficult for him.’

I’m confused. ‘Why couldn’t you stay at home?’

Nick shakes his head. ‘Luke needed looking after, he wasn’t well. To be honest he shouldn’t have been left alone with just me.’

‘Oh.’

‘Mum went crazy.’ He draws a hand across his chin. ‘She hated Dad having him at the weekends, and he didn’t even tell her. She blew up at me, said I was as irresponsible as he was. I didn’t really get why she got so mad, but I do now.’

I stay quiet, not sure where this is going.

Nick’s eyes are on the river. ‘We stood right here, pretty much. It was winter, nearly Christmas, and there were lights strung up between the trees on the South Bank. Luke was so excited.’

I search his face. ‘That’s nice.’

‘Yeah’ – a faint smile – ‘it was nice.’

‘You must be close,’ I say after a while.

‘We were.’ Nick’s eyes are still and dark as the water. ‘Luke died a few years ago.’

I touch his arm. ‘Nick, I’m so sorry.’

He bows his head, shakes it a little, remembering. ‘We knew it was coming,’ he says, ‘we knew he wouldn’t be with us for ever. But even when you’re prepared for something,
you’re not always ready, are you? I don’t know how you can prepare your feelings. I don’t think you can.’

‘Of course you can’t,’ I say softly. ‘It’s so, so sad. I don’t know what to say.’

He nudges me with his elbow. ‘God, sorry – I don’t know where that came from. It’s just … being here, I guess.’ A nervous laugh. ‘Talk about dumping on you on our second date—’

Even in the dark I see his embarrassment at having called it that.

‘I mean, not that this is a – er, you know, it’s not like,’ he scratches the back of his neck, ‘well, anyway. Sorry.’

I put an arm round him. He feels warm and solid, safe and lovely, and I rest my head on his shoulder. We stay like that for a minute.

All I can think about is making him feel better; I can’t bear for him to be upset. I say the first thing that comes into my mind.

‘Can I tell you something? It’s a secret.’

‘What?’ I can feel his breath in my hair.

‘I’m not sure if I should …’

‘You have to now.’

‘OK. But you
have
to swear not to tell anyone. All right? And in doing so you’ll be one of only a handful of people on the planet privy to this information.’

I can feel his smile. ‘What is it?’

‘First, you must promise you won’t run horrified from this bridge.’

‘I promise.’

‘You can’t throw yourself off either.’

‘Deal.’

I pull away, look him in the eye. If I’m going to do this, I might as well do it properly.

‘It’s my name,’ I tell him. ‘It’s not what you think it is.’

He grins, uncertain. ‘Is this the part when you tell me you’re actually a man?’

I laugh. ‘What if I was?’ He waves me away. ‘No, seriously, what if I was?’

‘I’d have just blown it, wouldn’t I?’

‘Would you? And to think this is just our second date …’

‘Ah.’ He rubs his chin.

‘I’m not a man,’ I say, acting affronted, before I remember what I’m about to confess and adopt a more humble approach. ‘But some might describe me as … well, a freak.’

‘A freak?!’

‘Yes. You see …’ I take a deep breath and close my eyes. ‘Look, just ask me my name – it’s easier that way.’

‘But I already know what your name is.’

‘Just ask me.’

‘OK.’ He grips my shoulders and I giggle. ‘Maddie Mulhern, what is your name?’

I wait a moment, checking as I always do that I’ve got them in the right order. Am I really about to do this? Yes, it seems I am.

I blurt it all out in one go.

‘MadonnaCherSinittaTiffanyEnyaCyndiLauperDebbie HarryPetShopBoysMulhern.’ Then, idiotically, I add, ‘Maddie for short.’

There’s a very long silence. Every second is excruciating. I’ve still got my eyes closed.

‘What’s with the Pet Shop Boys?’ Nick asks eventually.

I open one eye and squint at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, it doesn’t go with the rest of them.’

‘It doesn’t?’

‘Of course it doesn’t,’ he says. ‘For starters, they’re blokes.’

‘Well, I—’

‘That part’s just ridiculous.’

I’m surprised. ‘That’s it?’

‘That’s what?’

‘You don’t think it’s a bit of a … mouthful?’

‘Maybe. I might just call you Enya from now on.’

‘Don’t you dare!’ Playfully I smack his chest.

‘I’m kidding.’ A beat. ‘Now close your eyes again.’

‘Why?’

‘Just do it.’

His grip is still warm on my shoulders. The night fills with the low chimes of midnight, and my heart is pounding at double the time.

When Nick’s lips meet mine and he kisses me, it’s the most wonderful feeling in the world.

‘He
kissed
you?’ Lou squeals, nearly spitting out her wine.

‘Yes, he did,’ I say, topping up my glass with soda. ‘I wanted to break it to you in person. And it was without doubt the best kiss of my life.’

‘But,’ Lou splutters, attacking the remote to get the sound down on the stereo, ‘but …
how
? I mean, you don’t even know him!’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Not really. I thought you thought he was a nob!’

‘I did – at first. But then I changed my mind.’

Lou looks bewildered. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I just did!’

‘That you liked him, silly. Last time we talked about Nick Craven you were slagging him right off to anyone who’d listen.’ She points her finger at me. ‘But I
knew
you were faking, I knew it!’

‘He seems a nice enough bloke,’ Simon chips in, glancing up from the book he’s reading. ‘Can’t imagine why he’s involved with reality TV, to be honest – he’s too intelligent.’

It’s Tuesday evening and we’re round at Lou’s flat in Finsbury Park, eating Doritos and polishing off a bottle of Pinot. Well, Lou is, mostly – I’ve got to be at the club in an hour. One thing I can say, this Tooth & Nail gig has been doing the world of good for my liver.

‘He
is
a nice bloke,’ I say. ‘A really nice bloke.’

‘What happened to him being a shameless womaniser?’ Lou raises an eyebrow.

‘He’s not like that. I was wrong about that. Whatever happened with Rebecca Ascot is his business – he was probably going through a hard time.’

‘You are so loved-up!’ Lou grins, tucking her legs under her on the sofa. ‘I’ve never seen you like this before.’

‘It’s not like we’re going out,’ I say quickly. ‘It’s very early days and I don’t want to assume there’s more to it than just a kiss, because that’s all it probably was … probably. Don’t you think? People kiss all the time and then they never see each other again! So I’ve already given myself a strict talking-to and I’m not getting carried away. I’m not jinxing it by imagining what might or might not be—’

‘Wow,’ says Simon, mercifully cutting me off. ‘How can you be bothered to think about all this stuff?’

Lou leans over and ruffles his dirty-blond hair. ‘It’s why we’ve got bigger brains.’

‘What, to fill it with all that rubbish?’

‘It’s not rubbish!’ Lou cries indignantly, looking to me for back-up.

I make a face. ‘It sort of is. I’m annoying myself with it.’ I break a Dorito up into tiny pieces. ‘Argh, why do I always have to
think
about things so much?’

‘You’re thinking about thinking.’ Lou nods, sipping her wine. ‘Stop it. There’s more important things to think about.’

‘I know, but I can’t help it. If I could just stop thinking, then I’d realise that what I think I’m thinking might not actually
be
what I’m thinking – or, for that matter, what
he
’s thinking – and then I can try to work out what’s just thinking and what’s actually happening, when I’m thinking more clearly, and then maybe, if I did all that, for once I could think straight! I think.’

Simon rolls his eyes. ‘Remind me again what there is to think about?’

I put my elbows on the coffee table and rest my chin in my hand. ‘Well, it’s just that it happened three nights ago and neither one of us has mentioned it, even when we’re within ten feet of each other. Is that weird?’

‘Yeah, but what are you meant to say?’ Simon drapes an arm round Lou and pulls her close. ‘“I had such a great kiss – er, I mean time the other night. Fancy doing it again?”’

‘I guess,’ I muse. ‘Though it is getting a bit awkward.’

‘Of course it’s awkward,’ he goes on, ‘because essentially
you’re working together. If it was any other situation I’m sure he’d have called you by now. You’re a catch, Maddie – Nick won’t meet someone like you every day.’

I narrow my eyes. ‘Do you want to be my new BFF now that Lou’s officially struck off my Christmas list?’

He chuckles. ‘Come on, everyone loved your Celine. Especially the coughing part.’

‘OK forget it, you’re struck off too.’

‘I told you you’d get into trouble,’ says Simon, fondly kissing Lou’s head. It’s one of those intimate moments between couples that, while it’s not exactly a gross-out PDA, it definitely makes you feel like a spare wheel.

‘That’s my cue,’ I say, grabbing my jacket. ‘I’ve got to run.’

On the tube I wonder if Simon’s right: Nick and I are working together – it’d be wrong to act like anything had gone on between us.

Even so it feels like he’s avoiding me – whenever I meet his eye, he immediately looks away; whenever I go into the bar, he’s always on his way out; whenever I join the group he’s talking to, he fluffs his words and makes some excuse to leave.

As the train pulls into King’s Cross I try to focus on someone’s discarded paper, but it’s no good, I’m too distracted. Especially when I see a photo of Nick in the ‘Last Night’ double-page spread, emerging from Pineapple and shielding himself from the cameras.

I’m making it sound like he’s being unfair, and he’s not – he’s just being professional, which is kind of the problem. I’d
much rather he was straight with me: if he regrets the other night he should say so, instead of pretending it never happened.

Twenty minutes later I emerge at Covent Garden and decide to walk the rest of the way. I’m just passing French Connection when my phone beeps in my bag. I stop to dig it out.

It’s a text from Lou telling me she’s really excited for me, and she knows I was probably worrying all the way home. I smile when I read it.

There’s another unread text in my inbox – it must have come in earlier and I didn’t notice.

As soon as I see the number, I recognise it. I deleted the name two months ago but the digits are too familiar to forget.

Lawrence.