It was only a moment. It happened so fast. By the time I’ve pushed Laura away, Phoebe has gone.
I was going to tell her I love her.
‘I can’t do this now. I have to go.’
Laura is all coy smiles and flicking hair, her body dancing a little in green silk that is somehow managing to cling to her skin. She’s working through every move that once caught my attention, confident that one of them still has power. But she’s wasting her time. I’m not the man I was when we were together. I can’t ever be that person again.
‘Aw, Sam, don’t be like that. It’s New Year’s Eve. One little kiss is allowed.’
‘Please, just let me go.’
‘Thing is, I came with a date. But he’s boring the hell out of me.’ The same choreographed emotion, the slight pout and downturn of the lips. Head bowed a little, eyes peering up at me. ‘And then you took the stage. I think that’s what they call fate, Sam.’
I look over her head. Phoebe’s gone. And Laura won’t move out of my way. I don’t want to shove past her but if she doesn’t take the hint soon… ‘There’s someone I have to see.’
Her hand is back on my arm, her fingernails painted bright green. I hate that colour. ‘So speak to them later. They’ll still be here. Nobody worth bothering with leaves a New Year’s party early.’
I shrug her hand off me. ‘They’ve gone now. Cheers.’
She pops out her bottom lip in an infantile attempt to pacify me. ‘Problem solved, then. Now we have time to talk.’
It’s like I’m back where I started. I remember Laura’s feeble attempt to get back in my life the night before I left. I didn’t want her then; I sure as hell don’t want her now. She’s made me miss the one person I really wanted to see. Because DeeDee is right. And Niven. And Ailish. I’ve tried running from this, but I can’t escape Phoebe.
‘No, Laura, I don’t want to talk to you. Ever. I need you to understand, I am not interested. I won’t ever be interested. So you can take your act and go and find some other poor sap who’ll fall for it. We are done.’
She laughs but tears well in her eyes. ‘We will always have this, Sam. You’re in love with me.’
‘Not any more. I’m in love with someone else.’
But I’ve lost my chance to tell her.
It’s almost time for our second set. The DJ is building up to playing Big Ben’s chimes that he’s cued up on the decks and I have to be on stage, ready to play, by the twelfth chime. There’s no time to go after Phoebe.
Laura lifts her head, her tears on show for everyone close enough to see. Then she slaps her palm across my cheek, the sound so loud it summons an audience. I say nothing. As the room begins to buzz with anticipation of the New Year, I leave my ex sobbing by the bar and hurry back to the stage.
‘Okay people, it’s almost time. Let’s have a countdown. Ten… nine… eight…’
Out of time. Out of chances…
‘Seven… six…’
My cheek stings. I deserved that, but not for Laura’s sake…
‘Five… four… three…’
Phoebe could be anywhere now. And she thinks I have someone else…
‘Two…’
I hop onto the stage to the collected glares of my friends and pick up my fiddle. Idiot! Stupid pride, stupid fear!
‘One…’
There’s no going back now.
‘Happy New Year!’
The cheer makes my ears ring as the venue bursts into celebration. Confetti cannon explosions, streamers and balloons dropping from the net suspended over the dance floor, whooping and hugs and kisses, yells and tears.
Niven nods and we begin to play ‘Auld Lang Syne’. But every note drops on me like another nail driven into the coffin.
It’s too late. A New Year has begun. A year Phoebe won’t be part of.
The set passes by in a blur. I can hardly feel my fingers on the strings. At least our audience are happy.
We take our final bows and leave the stage. As we pass through the star curtain the first crashes of dance music begin.
I wonder if she went home? Maybe I should stay till the end of the party, find Meg and ask for her help. She might be able to get Phoebe somewhere I can talk to her before I go up to see Ellie, Russ and Barney. I want to explain. I know exactly what she thought when Laura kissed me.
Bloody Laura.
I saw her as we were playing the last song, snogging the face off some guy. She’d recovered remarkably well considering how heartbroken she’d looked forty-five minutes ago. I hope the bloke thinks better of it when the hangover wears off. Poor git.
Back in the dressing room there are fresh beers and a round of bacon sandwiches from the caterers. That settles it: Meg is officially our best booker. I wonder if she brought them over while our set was coming to an end. Is she anywhere near?
‘Well, personally I reckon we rocked,’ Niven says, swaying a little. I’d better make sure I get him in a cab soon. He’s on the sofa bed at DeeDee and Kim’s tonight then catching the train back up to Oban tomorrow.
‘We did,’ I smile. ‘Great to gig with you.’
The rounds of New Year hugs ensue until Niven swipes a fresh bottle from the cooler, holding it high. ‘A toast!’
Kim rolls her eyes and Chris chuckles.
‘Not another one, dude. We need to get you back.’
‘Ach, away with you, Mullins! It’s New Year. Lighten up!’
Outnumbered I open a bottle too and we toast a great gig. Then Chris and Niven sneak back to the stage to pack down what they can, and I pack my fiddle away, my heart heavy despite the party raging around me.
‘Will you be okay getting Niven back?’ I ask DeeDee, who is pulling jeans on under her black sequinned gig dress. ‘I’m worried he might wander into the city and get himself lost.’
‘Leave him to me. You’re welcome to crash at ours too, if you like? We’re closer than your place.’
I should wait for Meg.
But I’ll still see her in the morning when we come to load our gear out. With a little sleep I might know what to say to her – and she might be in a better place to hear it. Meg is my last link to Phoebe. I need to get her on my side. I owe it to myself to do it at the best time.
‘Cheers, Dee. But I need my own bed tonight.’
‘Old man! Go on, go home to your Horlicks and your pipe and slippers, eh? Leave us kids partying.’ She gives me a kiss on my bruised cheek, then apologises when I wince.
I grab my things and head out – just as the Goo Goo Dolls’ ‘Iris’ booms back from the venue.
Her song.
I remember Phoebe’s surprise when she received the video of me and Niven playing it, the joy in her smile in the photo she sent me of the moment I surprised her. I’ll talk to Meg in the morning, when I’ve worked out how to ask for her help.
But now I need to get home.