Impossible to Forget(86)

When they were all assembled, Romany did the introductions. Leon raised a hand in greeting and smiled widely. He didn’t say much, but he followed their conversation attentively, nodding and laughing as appropriate. He seemed to be coming alive as the place filled up and the noise levels rose. She had always taken him for a bit of a loner, had wondered why her mum had been friends with him when they appeared to be polar opposites, but maybe this was it. Maybe Leon was a creature of the night? He was chatting easily to the others now whilst they waited for the acts to start. He was actually quite funny, she thought, with a dry, sharp sense of humour and, as they all warmed into the evening, Romany began to feel quite proud of him.

The first few acts were fairly standard – a comedian who only really had three good gags and a poet who seemed to want to rage against the machine quite a lot. Laura was down for the fifth slot and as it approached, she became quieter and quieter. Romany wanted to go and reassure her, but her chair was tucked into the wall and she couldn’t easily get closer to her friend without make a fuss. Instead, she mouthed what she hoped were helpful comments. Laura nodded, but she was biting her lip and had gone a little pale.

Then she saw Leon lean in towards her and say something. He had turned his head away from Romany so that she couldn’t lip read, but whatever it was, it made Laura smile. She sat up straighter and seemed to get some of her colour back. And then, when the MC announced her name, she looked at Leon again, as if he was a kind of mentor. Romany was curious and she wondered what Leon had said that had made the situation less nerve-racking. She would have to ask Laura later.

Laura took her guitar, stepped up to the little stage and perched herself on the stool in front of the microphone. Then, after a last-minute tuning check, she began. She picked out the opening melody confidently. It always surprised Romany how good she was. She didn’t go on about it and it wasn’t a talent that you could see just by looking at her, so it was easy to forget, but now, as she began to sing, it was obvious that she had something. Her voice, with its distinctive style somewhere between Amy Winehouse and Dido, was tentative to start with but then began to gain in confidence as she realised that the room was with her. When she strummed the final chord, the audience burst into appreciative applause. Laura smiled bashfully and then came back to sit with them.

The girls all crowded around her with their fulsome praise, Romany amongst them, but she noticed that Laura only really wanted to know what Leon thought. He was nodding appreciatively and smiling widely.

‘That was fantastic,’ he said. ‘I loved how you built the intensity as you went through, and your bridge was the perfect counter to the rest. Mesmerising, in fact. Really good. Well done.’

‘Thanks,’ said Laura, her eyes shining.

Romany was intrigued. What was going on? Where was the nerdy Leon that she had always known? Not here, that was for sure. This Leon was actually pretty cool. Her friends certainly seemed to think so as they each vied for his conversational attention. Then something sparkled at the back of Romany’s memory. Hadn’t her mother told her that Leon used to play an instrument when they were at uni, that he’d been quite good?

‘Do you play, Leon?’ she asked him.

The response was instantaneous and unmissable. He seemed to shrink a little in his chair and his shoulders hunched over.

‘Not really,’ he said into his lap. ‘I used to play a bit of sax when I was your age, that’s all.’

‘Were you in a band?’ asked Laura.

Leon shook his head. ‘No, nothing like that. I just played for myself really.’

‘You should do a slot here,’ said one of the others.

‘Yes!’ said Romany. ‘Yes, that’s a great idea. We can sign you up for a slot for next month. What kind of stuff do you play?’

Leon bit his lip and folded his arms across his chest. ‘Jazz, but I’m not sure . . .’

‘Oh, go on,’ urged Romany. ‘There’s barely anyone here anyway. It’ll be cool.’

Leon was still looking as if he would rather be anywhere else. So then Romany deployed her killer point.

‘You should do it for Mum,’ she said.





44


‘Did you get your uni application sent off?’ Tiger asked Romany the following Saturday. Whilst they didn’t see much of each other during the week, they had taken to coming together on a Saturday evening to watch whatever was on the television for a bit. It wasn’t too much of a sacrifice. If Romany had plans for the night, they didn’t generally kick off until a bit later, and Tiger seemed to appreciate the chance to chat. She was learning that he was good company, too.

‘I once met this shaman in Bali,’ he might start, or, ‘When I was working in a shoe shop in Helsinki . . .’

She never knew what was true and what wasn’t, but she assumed that most of his stories had either happened to him or to someone he had met. She could picture him, sitting round in hostels the world over, swapping tall tales to keep the other travellers entertained. He was good at it, a natural storyteller. She hadn’t really thought that being able to tell an anecdote was such a skill until she heard Tiger weaving his. It didn’t matter how the story ended, either, whether it was funny or tragic, or whether, like some modern-day fable, it came with a warning attached. The joy of Tiger’s stories was in the journey. She had told him that he should write them down, but he just scoffed at the suggestion.