Chapter 10
Back at home later that morning, Angelia was lounging on the sofa looking at images of vintage record shops on her phone and creating a Pinterest mood board with her favourites, while Scrappy lay fast asleep and snuggled into her side.
Why hadn’t she thought of it herself? It was such an obvious suggestion now she thought about it.
She had been obsessed with records since she was wee, and she knew that record collecting was a popular thing to do these days.
In her opinion you just couldn’t beat the sound quality of vinyl.
It wasn’t the crispest sound but there was something so comforting about it.
The nostalgia produced by the scratch of a needle on the vinyl was immense.
Meanwhile her mum and her dad were out tidying the back garden, which Angelia knew to be code for talking things through.
They were still coming to terms with the fact that their daughter was facing a future filled with many changes that they couldn’t really help with, and it had been hard for them both.
They weren’t overbearing at all, but they did like to problem solve.
The fact that this was a problem with little to no absolute solution was vexing for them.
Angelia glanced around the room at the family photos dotted here and there; photos she could remember being taken and the emotions that went along with them.
And the paintings of local scenes on Skye that she adored.
The rocky, otherworldly images of the Quiraing and the Cuillin; the dramatic palette of colours of the sky at sunrise and the cerulean blue of summer all held a special place in her heart.
It was comforting to be back in the little detached bothy conversion she’d shared with her parents while growing up. Things felt normal here.
Her luxury apartment in North West London had been the first thing she had purchased when her finances had allowed, she was certainly her father’s daughter, and while ‘the big smoke’ had become her second home it wasn’t quite the same as her real home.
For the last decade she had spent most of her time flitting between her place in London and hotels in New York when she was recording and not on tour with the band, with only short visits back to Skye.
Often, in the past, she’d flown her parents out to stay with her in the USA or Europe, and they’d explored the vibrant city locations together until she’d become too famous to leave the hotel in those places without some kind of security.
Skye offered her a reminder of the life she’d had growing up and it was a welcome change. Far less complicated.
Her phone rang and Ed’s name flashed up on the screen. Angelia sat up straight as her heart skipped and she immediately hit the button to accept his call.
‘Hey, Angelia, how are you?’ he asked, his voice croaky with sleep.
‘Hi, Ed, I’m okay, I think. How come you’re phoning so early? It must be 6.30 a.m. in New York?’
‘Yeah, I’m going to be heading out soon and I wanted to give you a call before I set off. Fiona messaged to say she’s coming to visit you today. I wish I could come too. I’m missing you guys like mad.’
Angelia swallowed the lump that lodged in her throat on hearing the sadness in his voice. ‘Missing you too,’ she replied.
‘How’s the medication going?’ he asked.
She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. ‘Yeah, good so far. The symptoms are definitely less although not completely gone. I think it’ll be trial and error for a while.’
‘But at least it’s starting to work which is positive. I’m going to come and see you as soon as I can, I promise.’
‘Don’t worry, Ed. I know what it’s like to be busy with touring,’ she said with a smile. ‘How is it going? Still enjoying The Phil?’
There was a pause. ‘It’s… erm… hard work.’
She sensed he was about to say something else. ‘But you’re loving it, right? It’s been your dream for ages so that must make it worthwhile, surely?’
‘Yeah, yeah, it’s great.’ There was little to no sincerity in his voice, and she was about to press him on the fact, but he continued. ‘Look, I’d better go. I’ll call again soon to let you know when I’m coming to see you. Love you.’
Her heart ached a little on hearing those words when she understood the friendly meaning behind them all too well. ‘Love you, too, Ed. Good to hear from you. Bye.’
The line went dead and she placed her phone face down on the arm of the sofa, wondering what it was that he hadn’t said about his work with the New York Philharmonic.
The doorbell sounded and Meghan, who had been reading at the kitchen table, insisted on answering it, old habits and all that. Angelia knew who it was going to be, so she followed her assistant to the hallway. Meghan opened the door and immediately recognised the visitor.
‘Oh, hi, Fiona. Lovely to see you again. Come on in.’
As soon as she was inside, Angelia grappled Fiona into a bear hug.
‘I’ve missed you so much!’ Fiona said, her voice wavering with emotion. She pulled away and held Angelia at arm’s length. ‘Are you okay? I can’t believe what’s happened, Angelia. I wish I could do something.’
‘I’m okay. It’s just been such a weird and stressful time. But I’m so happy to see you. Thank you for coming over.’ Fiona had set off from her home in Edinburgh at five in the morning. It was now half eleven.
‘No thanks needed, honey. You’re my best friend. I’m just glad I’ve been able to get out of the in-service day tomorrow so I can stay over.’
‘It’s such a long way to come to stay one night though. You’ve driven for over five hours, Fee.’
Fiona shrugged. ‘Like I said, you’re my best friend.’
Angelia’s eyes stung and her chin trembled. ‘I do love you, and I’m so grateful.’
Meghan left them to chat in the kitchen while she went to ‘take a nap’ which Angelia now understood to mean she would be having a conversation with Ezra, and without her assistant or parents in the room she finally felt able to open up about the way she was really feeling, something she had avoided doing with her parents up to now, until they had accepted, and got used to, the news she had imparted.
‘The consultant I saw pretty much told me I should rethink my whole career. But what would I do without the band though, Fee? Without this life I’ve worked so hard for.
Who the hell would I even be?’ Angelia stared into the ruby-red liquid as a berry-scented fragrance drifted up with the steam from the fruit tea in her mug, infiltrating her senses but doing nothing to ease her aching heart.
Angelia was still reeling from the discovery that she had a life-altering condition.
Dr Novak had been in regular contact to ensure the side effects of her new medication weren’t too bad, and he had continually insisted that she not overdo things until the dosage was just right.
And even then, he had said she needed to reconsider her busy schedule, and he had reiterated that she should seriously contemplate whether her life as a rock star was something she should think about amending.
He’d also warned Angelia that if she went back to the level, and frequency, of performing that she had sustained for the last decade, she ran the risk of something called a myasthenic crisis which could be life threatening, so was something she wanted to avoid at all costs.
She sighed. ‘If I give it all up now it will be like the last ten years of my life are wiped out. As if they never happened,’ she whispered, the realisation of what she faced sinking in.
‘Singing is all I’ve ever really known and I’m not sure I’m ready for it to be gone.
’ Her heart sank further than she ever thought possible and the ache in her chest deepened.
‘I’m almost thirty-one, I didn’t even finish my music degree, so I literally have nothing else.
’ Her stomach knotted at the sound of her speaking voice which was so much weaker today thanks to the emotional stress she found herself under.
She lifted her head as tears spilled over, and she met the concerned gaze of her best friend.
‘I know everyone will probably think that I have plenty of money and don’t need to work but I do, for my own sanity.
I can’t sit around and be idle, Fee. It’s just not in my nature. ’
Fiona was eight years into a career that she absolutely loved, as a high-school music teacher in Edinburgh. From the way she talked about her job, it was clear the kids adored her, and she was very well respected.
Ever the stalwart optimist, Fiona reached out and squeezed her hand.
‘Come on, Angelia, you’ll get back there.
This isn’t the end. It can’t be. Just rest up for a few more months now you’re on your meds, and the old pipes will be back to normal.
Good as new.’ It was clear that regardless of her facial expression Fiona was in denial, too, which wasn’t really helping.
‘I wish I believed that, Fee, but Dr Novak is an expert on this condition and he says there’s no cure.
The medication manages the myasthenia but doesn’t take it away.
Perhaps I just have to resign myself to the fact that my voice is never going to be as strong as it was.
I just don’t know what else I can do. I could still record with plenty of breaks, but I can’t expect the band to accept that because studios charge by the hour.
And if I can’t tour, maybe I should step aside so they can find someone else.
Live music is what they’re all about. What they love.
It’d be selfish of me to expect them to accept anything less than 100 per cent from me. And from myself for that matter.’