I Was Born for This(93)

It’s a poem entitled ‘The Angel’, written in childish handwriting.

By Jimmy.

‘Piero gave it to us, actually,’ says Juliet. ‘I think … I think he knew we’d probably never see Jimmy again, and … he wanted us to have something as a keepsake.’

I can’t find any words.

I didn’t read the second verse of the poem before, so I read the full eight lines from start to finish.

When all was bad in Jimmy Land He wished for someone to rescue him To make him part of a famous band And fight off things dark and grim The Angel came down and said, ‘Now, now, I can’t do everything for you, can I?’

Jimmy jumped up and said, ‘Then show me how!’

But the Angel flew off with a ‘Bye, bye!’

Juliet and Bliss peer over my shoulder.

‘I’m glad Rowan is in charge of lyrics,’ Juliet says. ‘No offence, but these are some dodgy rhythms.’

‘This is a sassy angel,’ Bliss says, nodding her head. ‘Absolutely savage. She’s like, see you later, bud. I got my own shit to do.’

‘Kind of motivational in its own special way,’ I say.

‘True,’ says Bliss.

I fold up the poem and put it in my bag.

At least I’ll always have that.

‘Guys,’ I say.

They both look at me.

‘My real name’s not Angel. It’s Fereshteh.’

Neither of them say anything for a moment.

Then Bliss says, ‘Well, fuck me.’

‘My real name’s not Juliet,’ says Juliet, and this makes me actually gasp out loud.

Bliss puts her hand over her mouth. ‘Fuck me.’

‘It’s Judith,’ says Juliet, wrinkling her nose. ‘And I really, really hate it.’

I’m too shocked to say anything.

Bliss looks from me to Juliet and then says, ‘Well, sorry to disappoint, but my name is actually Bliss and not, like, Veronica, or something.’

And then the three of us just start laughing. Really hard.

‘I’m coming home, Dad!’

‘For real this time?’

‘Yep.’ I nod against my phone. ‘For real.’

‘What’ve you been up to? You know I’m going to make you tell me everything when you get home. I need it for my novel.’

‘Dad … I think you’re supposed to make stuff up for novels. Not just use my life for inspiration.’

He laughs. It sounds warm.

‘You sure you’re okay, Fereshteh?’ he says. ‘Mum said you were very upset yesterday. Was this about your band boy going missing? I heard on the radio that they found him!’

‘Yeah. No. I mean …’ I sigh. ‘Some stuff has happened. But … I’m going to be okay. And me and Mum, we … I think everything’s going to be okay now.’

Dad pauses. I can imagine him nodding and smiling.

‘Okay,’ he says.

‘Hey, Dad?’

‘Yes?’

‘This is random, but … how do you think people become band managers?’

‘I’m a literature teacher, darling. I can answer questions about The Great Gatsby or Persian love poetry but not about the business of music, I’m afraid.’

‘Don’t worry.’ I smile. ‘I’ll google it when I get home. Would you still love me if I was a band manager?’

‘I’d still love you if you were a deep-sea submarine pilot and decided to live in the depths of the ocean for the rest of your days!’

‘Now there’s your next book idea, Dad!’

We both laugh, and God, I can’t wait to get home.

‘What about Mum?’ I ask.

‘Now she wouldn’t be quite so happy about it,’ he says. ‘But we’ve got plenty of time to deal with that.’

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘We do.’

When I sit back down with the girls Juliet crosses her legs and says, ‘I think everything that happened was supposed to happen.’

‘Like, fate?’ I say.

‘Maybe. The real world, am I right?’

‘Yeah, man.’

It carries on. The world, I mean. And we sit and we watch. And I know that I did something. Took a risk. Lived a real life.

Me. Angel Rahimi.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll do something else. Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up and think about me and what I want. Maybe tomorrow I’ll believe in something other than boys on a screen.

‘They were just so normal,’ says Juliet. ‘The illusion’s been shattered.’

‘I know, right.’

‘Everyone’s normal, really, aren’t they?’ Bliss says. ‘I mean, everyone’s normal, everyone’s weird, everyone’s just trying to deal with their own life and keep calm and carry on. And hold on to something that’ll keep them going.’

‘Yeah,’ I say.

‘That’s why people get into fandom and bands and stuff. They just want to hold on to something that makes them feel good. Even if it’s all a big lie.’

‘I think that’s what I did, anyway,’ I say.

‘Seems a bit more sensible than carrying a knife around,’ says Juliet.