part0008

I know she’s only been to a few sessions but I can definitely see a difference in Josie since she started the counselling. The very fact that she’s going at all is a massive step forward. I honestly thought she’d point blank refuse to go. I’m keep everything crossed at the moment that she keeps going because she seems so much more positive and willing to try things and that’s got to help her to get over losing her mum.

I think the job at the newspaper is helping too. I’ve had a word on the quiet with Ralph and he says she’s settling in really well even though she’s only been there for a couple of Saturdays. Apparently, she gets on really well with Louise even though there’s a big age difference and Ralph says she’s coming out of herself a bit. Maybe it’s because Louise is about the same age as Nessa, sort of a mother figure. Although to be honest it hurts to even think like that; feels as if I’m being disloyal to my Nessa.

I only rang Ralph for a quick chat but I had a job to get him off the phone because he started prattling on about some dog that was howling and how they were taking advantage of him and I thought, here we go, another Ralph rant, so I said there was someone at the door and I put the phone down. Don’t think he was very happy. I know he’s my brother and everything but sometimes I’ve got a job to shut him up. He’s like a dog with a bone, on and on and on. Mind you, I don’t know what I’d have done without him this last year; he’s been a diamond, an absolute diamond.

It was an even bigger shock when Josie came home and told me that Biro had made her the manager of his band. Didn’t even know he had a band – it’s called Tourists are Salty or something like that, some contrived arty-farty name. I was absolutely gobsmacked – Josie, a manager? She’s near genius clever and can do pretty much anything but manage a band? I don’t know what Biro was thinking and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings and I’d certainly never say it, but our Josie’s not manager material; too shy and reserved, not the pushy type at all.

Maybe it’ll bring her out of herself a bit, give her a bit of confidence, I hope so. Luckily, I don’t think Josie noticed how surprised I was about it, I managed to cover it up well.

‘What do managers do?’ she asked.

‘Manage,’ I said. ‘Get the band out there, get them known, get them places to play at and most importantly, get them a following. Because without a following you might as well not bother because even if you get them gigs no one will bother coming to see them.’

I could see the panic on her face and I racked my brains to think how I could help her. Then I remembered that I used to play in a Sunday football team with Jason who runs the Old Vic pub. We go back years to when we first moved to Frogham and he owes me a few favours so I called one of them in. When I knew him, he was a skinny lad who used to run up and down that pitch like a rocket. That was a few years ago and now he runs the pub he obviously drinks a lot of the profits because I shouldn’t think he’d be fit enough to walk the length of the pitch with the size of the beer gut on him. But the Old Vic have all the up and coming bands play there and some of the ones on the way down and it’s got itself a name as the place to watch live music. Just the place for Biro’s band to play.

Jason wasn’t at all keen when I asked him, says he’s got his reputation to think of and can’t be just having any old rubbish playing in his gaff. So, I had to do a bit of arm twisting and give him a gentle reminder about how I helped him with his tax returns a few times when he was looking at a fine because he’d made such a mess of it. He ummed and aahed but gave in eventually and agreed to put them on the bill in a couple of weeks’ time. I just hope they’re not complete shite or else I’ll never hear the end of it from him. Most likely I’ll have to do Jason’s next tax return for free but that’s a small price to pay to put a smile on Josie’s face. And I’m not proud of it but I did play the grieving widower card as well, felt a bit bad about that but it’s for a good cause.

I did think about sneaking in and watching this band to see what they’re like. I do like a bit of live music and I know Biro is a clever lad, plays the guitar, piano, the lot. And he’s the singer too. I might pop in and watch them, the Vic’s a dark and dingy old boozer so they won’t notice me in the corner. Keep a sneaky eye on Josie, too; she’ll never even know I’m there. Not because I think she’d do anything wrong; I know she wouldn’t, she’s not like that. No, it’s everyone else that bothers me; Josie’s so young and trusting, a real innocent.

Although I’m not sure if I should; part of me thinks that’d be like spying on her and I shouldn’t do it but the other part of me just wants to protect her.

I’ll have to give it some thought.

Makes it easier for me though, knowing that Josie is trying to move on, like I’m trying to. Because I still have dark days although I try my best to hide them. I miss Nessa so much and I can’t believe she’s gone and most mornings when I wake up, for a moment I feel quite happy and then reality crashes in and I remember she’s dead. It catches me unawares; I’ll see something or someone will say something funny and I think, I’ll tell Nessa when I get home and then a split second later, I remember she’s not there. It’ll be a year ago next month, a whole year. It seems like only yesterday and forever ago.