Impossible to Forget(85)

Instead, she said, ‘Actually, I wasn’t the only one giving advice.’

‘Oh?’

‘No. Romany suggested that maybe I wasn’t fulfilling my potential by working at the architects’.’

Leon raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, I could have told you that,’ he said.

‘I know, I know. It was just, hearing it from her, a child.’

‘She’s eighteen, hardly a child.’

‘No, but you know what I mean. It made me think, that’s all.’

‘And what conclusion did you reach?’ he asked.

Maggie drew in a deep breath. ‘Something needs to change,’ she said.





43


‘It’s down here,’ said Romany.

Leon was looking very unhappy, peering down the dark alleyway at the overflowing bins and stacks of beer crates.

‘Are you sure?’ he said. ‘It doesn’t look very promising.’

‘Certain,’ she replied. ‘I’ve been here loads of times.

She led the way down the cobbled path, enjoying the unfamiliar feeling of being in charge, until they came to the peeling black door.

‘It’s up here,’ she said.

Leon looked back over his shoulder as if he was being led into a trap of some sort, and Romany laughed at him.

‘God, Leon. Don’t you ever go out?’

‘Not to strange pubs down dark alleys,’ he said, but she was pleased to see that he was smiling.

The open mic night had been her idea. She had been a couple of times in the past and sat through the usual mixture of good, passable and downright dreadful acts. But there were always a few gems, shining like diamonds amongst the coal, that made it worthwhile. Tonight, though, Laura was going to sing and so Romany was mainly there to support her. A bunch of friends from school were going too, and usually she would have tagged along with them, but then she’d got a text from Leon.

Hi Romany, the text had begun. I was wondering if you’d like to go to the cinema one night. I’m not sure what you’re into but I’m happy to go with the flow.

Bless him, she had thought. He was doing his best and it was definitely a step up from the list of worthy but decidedly unappealing classics that he’d sent her.

There wasn’t much on at the cinema, though, and she’d have to choose a film carefully to avoid being inadvertently hijacked by anything emotional. The last thing she needed was to cry all over Leon. She wasn’t sure the poor bloke could take it.

But then she had thought of the open mic night. It was perfect. It was culture; there was all sorts – poetry, folk guitar, singers and other musicians – and it was live, so that meant that there wouldn’t be much time for conversation. He might even enjoy it! Leon didn’t look like he got out that often and Maggie was hardly living life on the edge.

So, she had texted him back. My friend is playing at an open mic night on Thursday. Do you fancy going with me?

And he had said yes.

She led the way up the stairs and into the room at the top. It was a loft space that ran across the length of the pub downstairs with a bar at one end and a little stage at the other. The floor was just wooden boards and the walls and ceiling had been painted black, so that even though it was reasonably spacious, it felt intimate. The room was half-full already, and Romany selected a table not too close to the speakers and sat down.

‘I’ll have a bottle of Becks, please,’ she said.

Leon’s expression was sceptical. ‘On a school night?’ he asked.

She’d forgotten that he had two boys of his own and would be hot on that kind of thing. But this was her night.

She raised an eyebrow. ‘And could you get a bag of salt and vinegar crisps as well. Tiger and I didn’t quite get round to making dinner.’

Leon shook his head and tutted and she thought that he was about to comment on the precarious domestic arrangements at the flat, but he must have changed his mind and sauntered off to the bar instead, returning with two bottles and two bags of crisps.

‘So,’ he said when he’d sat down and she had torn one bag along its edges and opened it flat so they could share. ‘How does this work?’

‘Basically, you sign up the week before with what you want to do and on the night you get the mic and then it’s up to you. They get a mixture of acts each month. There’s a fair amount of crap poetry but the comedians are sometimes funny. And my friend Laura, that’s who we’re here to see, she’s really good.’

‘What does she do?’ Leon asked.

‘She sings and plays the guitar. She’s fantastic. She does covers of Adele songs, Norah Jones, that kind of thing, but tonight she’s going to try out one that she’s written herself, so she’s a bit more nervous.’

‘I’m looking forward to hearing her,’ said Leon, and Romany thought that he did actually look quite interested. As they chatted, his eyes kept flicking round the room, taking it all in. Maybe she had hit on something that they could do together, which would save her having to endure his other slightly painful suggestions.

There was a shout from across the room and Romany looked up to see a group of her school mates plus Laura, her guitar strung across her back. Romany had intended that they would sit separately so as not to inflict them on Leon and vice versa, but now they seemed to be coming towards her and before she knew it, they were all settling themselves down around them, borrowing chairs from other tables and getting drinks.