Michael’s music studio really is lost in the woods. It takes us maybe ten minutes to reach it via a winding woodland path, and with every step, the summer sun grows dimmer above thick trees.
‘This is your studio?’ I ask, looking over the cottage, shadowed by giant fir trees. The little building has blacked-out windows, like a limousine. It looks weird, the soulless modern panes in olde worlde sugar-cube crumbling walls. And it’s so far away from everything. I can barely see the main house anymore.
‘You were expecting something different?’ Michael asks.
‘Yeah, kind of. I thought your studio would be like square and glass walls and metal beams and stuff. Totally modern.’
‘Music lives better in old buildings,’ says Michael. ‘Places with soul and character. I have a real soft spot for this little cottage. It was the farmhouse that came with the land. The big place was built afterwards. But I always loved it out here. It’s totally secluded; you wouldn’t find it unless you knew where to look. I wouldn’t even need soundproofing if these owls didn’t hoot away at night.’ He hesitates. ‘You know, this cottage burned down once upon a time. I wonder if your mother ever told you about that?’
‘No.’
‘No. I imagine she wants to put all that behind her. Anyway. Forget I mentioned that, Liberty. It’s all in the past and something beautiful came of it. Make the best of every tragedy, right? You just wait until you see inside. It’s magic in here, I tell you. The best studio in the whole country.’
‘Humble as always, Michael Reyji Ray.’ Diane totters through the woods, dressed in a black fitted suit and neon-pink high heels. The outfit is a little dated, and I can picture Diane wearing it better as a younger woman.
‘Trust me, Diane,’ says Michael. ‘Liberty is gonna flip her lid over this equipment.’
‘Is she indeed?’ says Diane. ‘Well, listen. I’ve come to say goodbye before I head off.’
‘You’re going?’ I ask.
‘I have a plane to catch,’ says Diane, kissing Michael on the cheek and giving me a long hug. ‘So I have to skedaddle. Liberty, it was amazing to meet you. Don’t be a stranger. Okay? Why don’t we have a girls’ shopping trip when I get back? Get this man to spend some money on us?’
‘Where are you going?’ I ask.
‘Milan. I’m meeting some designers.’
‘Diane has a new handbag range,’ says Michael.
‘I think you’d approve, Liberty,’ says Diane. ‘It’s vegan. Fake leather all the way.’
‘This woman won’t sit still, I’m telling you,’ says Michael. ‘Good cause after good cause. She puts me to shame.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ says Diane. ‘You give millions to your charities. I’m just the little wife who sells ethical clothing.’
‘A little wife who’s always jetting off and leaving her husband.’
‘What’d I do if I stayed home all the time?’ says Diane. ‘You like me being gone once in a while. Admit it.’
‘Only because it’s so fun when you come back.’
Diane takes out her phone. ‘Come on, let’s have a photo of you two before I leave. You two are peas in a pod. You’re the spit of each other.’ She hesitates. ‘I don’t see Lorna in you at all, Liberty. You’re all Michael.’
‘So how about it, Liberty bell?’ says Michael. ‘A selfie with the old man?’
Diane laughs. ‘It’s not a selfie, Michael. A selfie is when you take a photo of yourself.’ She shakes her head at me. ‘He thinks he’s so down with the kids. Okay – stand together, you two.’
Michael puts his arm around my shoulder and grins from ear to ear, every bit the proud father.
When Diane shows us the photo, Michael’s eyes well up. ‘Wowsers. Look at the pair of us. Together again. We do look the same, don’t we? You have to say it.’
I look at the picture. He’s right. Same tanned skin, straight white teeth, long nose, thick, dark eyelashes and eyebrows. And now black-brown hair, bleached blonde. Like Diane says, two peas in a pod.
‘Father and daughter, reunited,’ says Diane.
Michael nods, but he’s too choked up to answer.
‘Kids, I’m so sorry.’ Diane checks her Rolex. ‘I really have to run. Don’t look at me like that, Michael. You know who you married.’
‘I know, I know,’ says Michael. ‘A woman who can’t sit still.’
Diane gives him a hug, then me. ‘What a pleasure it was to meet you, Liberty.’
I let out a long breath as she heads off. ‘Okay, Dad. Tell me everything.’
‘Okay. Let’s go inside. I’ll show you the instruments. And we’ll talk.’ Michael pulls open the heavy cottage door. ‘It gets stiff, this old thing. But it has to be metal. Wood goes rotten out here.’
I stand on the threshold, eyes wide.
‘I like to do things differently, Liberty. Come on inside now, there’s a girl.’