Chapter 2
2
JUNE 2025 – GLASGOW
Moira
Moira Chiles stood in the middle of the newly soundproofed recording studio and opened her mouth, to let the opening line from one of her favourite songs belt out from somewhere deep inside her soul. Lulu’s ‘Shout’ had been in her repertoire for forty years, since she’d started singing in bars and clubs at eighteen, and she still got a kick every time she sang that intro. Moira held the last note until a lovely man in a hard hat on the other side of the studio glass gave her a thumbs up. Testing the acoustics and the efficiency of the soundproofing today had been an absolute blast. Especially as it worked both ways and gave her a merciful break from the relentless construction noise she’d been subjected to over the last few months. She couldn’t remember the last day she didn’t go home with the sound of a jack hammer reverberating in her brain. Not that she minded, because she loved every other thing about her new working environment.
She adored the exposed stone bricks on the walls of the old church in what was commonly regarded as one of the more impoverished areas of Glasgow. She adored the incredible team of actors, musicians, admin staff, cleaners and construction workers, who were grafting to turn it into an academy of music and drama, one that would give access to the arts and free classes to nurture talent in this part of the city. She even loved the cheeky young buggers who’d been hanging about these streets drinking and getting up to all sorts of mischief, before they’d been offered their first jobs, working with the building team.
‘Ma, you should come with a health warning. I think you just blew out my eardrums.’
And she especially loved spending time with the man who’d just entered the studio and who was now coming towards her, his gorgeous grin already making her smile too. The very best thing about this new project was that her son, actor Ollie Chiles, was the biggest investor, and one of the co-founders of this whole project. Moira had grown up just a couple of streets away from here, and she’d brought Ollie up here too, so this was personal for them both. Although, his plan to call this place The Moira Chiles Academy of Music and Drama made her flush to her toes with embarrassment. She’d been trying to talk him out of it since he’d suggested it, mortified in case anyone thought she was blowing her own trumpet and becoming some kind of grandiose, self-promoting diva.
‘Don’t mock my pipes, son. They’ve got us this far in life,’ she replied, laughing. It wasn’t strictly true. She could only take credit for supporting Ollie until he got his big break. Everything else he’d achieved in life, the leading role on The Clansman , one of the biggest shows on worldwide TV, playing a Scottish warrior from bygone days, was all down to his talent, his determination, and aye, his good looks hadn’t harmed his chances.
He gave her a hug. ‘You’re so right. I’m just in to say goodbye. I’m heading to the airport and back to LA. Need to go earn some bucks to pay for all this.’ He was joking, but there was a hint of truth in there. Ollie had teamed up with her old friend and former agent, Calvin Fraser, to make this place a reality. Calvin had been her agent in her younger days, and then again in her thirties, right up until she’d gone off to sing for her supper on the cruise ships. He’d been a lifelong mentor for Ollie too, so when Calvin had the idea for the academy, her son had been happy to get on board. Ollie had put up the cash for the building and funded most of the renovation out of his own pocket, his way of giving back to the area he grew up in. He and Calvin had then recruited a squad of well-known faces in TV, film and music to help them raise a hefty sum for the day-to-day operational costs. The plan was to put on regular shows starring both the young students and the household name talents, with the aim of becoming self-funding. A lottery grant had helped too, and they’d also got an unexpected boost when they managed to get a documentary team onboard to film the whole thing for Netflix. That would bring in revenue and give the centre the publicity it would need to keep going and raise more, at least for the foreseeable future. Thankfully, she hadn’t encountered the film crew today – she made a point of avoiding them as much as possible, having no desire to see herself on screen or subject herself to public scrutiny. Her days of dreaming about TV stardom were long behind her. This was Ollie’s world now.
‘I think I’ve got a bargepole lying around somewhere in case you see that ex of yours when you’re over there,’ Moira quipped. Ollie was in the process of divorcing his wife of six years, American actress, Sienna Montgomery, after she’d been secretly filmed snogging one of her Broadway co-stars on a red-eye flight from New York to Los Angeles a few months back. Turned out they’d been having an affair for months. And not that Moira held a grudge… Actually, she definitely did bloody well hold a grudge, but she kept telling herself that this was for the best, because Sienna was a spoiled, entitled horror, who’d grown up as the beautiful granddaughter and daughter of two generations of acting legends and become a Disney child star before turning to theatre in her twenties. Her upbringing and adult life revolved around deep wealth and shallow people, but of course, Ollie had been too smitten to see that when they were young, daft and falling in love. Thankfully, he’d now seen the light, and he knew he was far better off without her.
He nodded thoughtfully. ‘Good to know. Might be tricky getting it in my hand luggage though.’ That cheeky mega-watt grin and the twinkle in his eye was why he had one of the biggest fan clubs in the business. Apparently, he had over fifty million followers on the Instagrams – not bad for someone who had always loved acting, but not the fame and attention that came with it. ‘Anyway, I just wanted to say goodbye and I’ll see you in a few weeks. I’ll be back for the opening.’ The launch was scheduled for September 1st, which was why she was squeezing in this week off now. Once the place was up and running, it would be all hands on deck for months to come. ‘When do you leave for Hong Kong?’ he asked.
‘Day after tomorrow. You know, I couldn’t be more excited, son. I still can’t quite believe I’m going.’
‘I’m happy for you, Ma. You deserve this. Although, if you want to change your mind and come to LA with me instead…’
On any other day, she’d have jumped at an offer to go hang out with her son, but not today. She’d been saving for this trip for months and it was so much more than a holiday.
‘Me and my bargepole will definitely take you up on that, but not this time. Ask me again next time you’re going – but give me a bit of notice so I can lose fifty pounds, get my roots done and my teeth whitened, otherwise they won’t let me into LA. A wee facelift probably wouldn’t go amiss either.’
‘Nope, you’re perfect just the way you are,’ he said, laughing as he hugged her again, blissfully unaware that she wasn’t entirely joking. Decades of working long hours and late nights, stressing about money, taking care of her parents in their last years, juggling to keep all the plates of their lives spinning just in time for middle age and the bloody menopause to come along – it had all taken its toll, and she saw it every morning when she looked in the mirror. She remembered the days when her confidence was on the inside, in every bit of her, and not just part of the act she put on for the outside world.
‘And so are you, son,’ she replied, entirely serious now. This man made all the graft worthwhile, and she wouldn’t change anything about the last thirty years if it meant she wouldn’t be where they were now. ‘Safe travels and remember to call your mother. I’m needy in my old age.’
‘Will do, Ma. Love you.’
‘Love you, too. I’ll see you soon.’
Off he went, with a wave behind him, just as the studio technician’s voice cut through the air. ‘Moira, we’re all good,’ he relayed from the sound desk. ‘Construction are happy with the soundproofing and the acoustics – we’re just going to break for lunch now.’
She gave him a thumbs up. ‘Thanks, Charlie.’
Moira picked up her water bottle, one of those ridiculously expensive, posh Stanley cups that Ollie had bought her a few weeks ago. Fifty quid! She could have got ten water bottles for that at Home Bargains. Although, much as she’d objected on a point of principle and frugality, secretly she loved the baby blue container, and it hadn’t left her side.
Dodging joiners, electricians, and a load of other workers in the corridors, she made her way to the tiny room that the management team had commandeered as their staff room, office, eating area and, occasionally, quiet space to have an afternoon nap if they curled up on the old, battered sofa that sat against a wall, between a mini-fridge and a coat stand they’d found in a charity shop.
After flicking on the kettle, she retrieved a ham sandwich from the fridge and a packet of cheese and onion crisps from her bag, then finished making a cuppa. She carried it all to the table in the middle of the room. Or rather, the old door that had been propped on a couple of wooden crates to form a makeshift eating space. It was a far cry from the five-star cruise ships she’d worked on for the last sixteen years. Five days a week, three performances a day: an afternoon session in the lobby bar, a show in the theatre, and then a late-night croon in the piano bar. Her cabins were never up to much, but at least her contract had stipulated meals in the ships’ restaurants, as opposed to the huge staff canteens in the bowels of the boats. On the outside, it seemed like such a glamorous job, but the truth was it was a grind. Groundhog Day. Up, eat, sing, bed, repeat. And there were few holidays and strict rules about not fraternising with guests, so even though she’d been friendly with other performers and crew members, it had been a pretty lonely existence. Still, she’d been grateful – the sad reality was that regular, decent jobs for singers of her age were few and far between. That’s why she was now so delighted to be here, on home turf, with family and friends, starting a whole new chapter.
‘What are you smiling about, doll?’ Jacinta, her lifelong pal, academy colleague and semi-retired actress, had wafted into the makeshift staff room, one of her ever-present ornate, floaty chiffon kaftans trailing in the sawdust behind her.
‘I’m just thinking how happy I am to be back in Glasgow, with a full-time job here.’
‘One that you’re leaving for a week to go off galivanting to Hong Kong,’ Jacinta pointed out, as she gracefully took a seat opposite Moira at the table. ‘You know, on that holiday I wasn’t invited on.’ Jacinta drawled, topping it off with pursed lips of disapproval, while popping the lid off a Tupperware dish she’d brought with her, then fishing a plastic fork out of her kaftan pocket. ‘It’s okay. No reason you’d invite me really. It’s not like we’re close. I’m only your best pal and trusted confidante of thirty odd years so we barely know each other.’ The sarcasm oozed from every word.
‘You’re right. Sometimes I wonder if I’d be able to pick you out in a police line-up,’ Moira deadpanned, refusing to bite, and at the same time, cracking Jacinta’s faux disdain and making her cackle. She leaned over and put her hand on Jacinta’s arm. ‘Ma love, I’ll miss you every day and I’ll bring you back the most over the top, feast of a silk kaftan you’ve ever seen.’
Jacinta rolled her eyes. ‘I’m so easily bribed. You’re lucky to have me.’
Much as they joked about it, Moira did feel a twinge of guilt that she hadn’t invited her best friend. Or her son. Or anyone else from her current life. And that was deliberate, because, just for one week, she didn’t want to be Ollie’s mum or Jacinta’s age-old pal, she wanted to be the Moira Chiles who’d lived in Hong Kong at twenty-three, who’d had a wild adventure with her friends there – ones that sadly, she hadn’t seen since then. The Moira she’d been before all her hopes and ambitions of stardom had been derailed a couple of years after she’d returned home, when a holiday romance in Tenerife had resulted in her gorgeous Ollie.
Motherhood had brought duties, responsibilities and commitments. The dream of a life on the West End stage had been abandoned, so that she could stay in Glasgow and be the best mother for her son. Not for one second did she regret it, but she’d gone from raising Ollie as a single mum for sixteen years, while also taking care of her parents in their final years, to a life on cruises where someone else told her where to be and when to be there. It had all been so regimented – everything done to a schedule, decisions made by other people. Now, in her late fifties, she was experiencing her first ever period of freedom. She was finally the only decision maker in her life… and she didn’t know what to do with herself. Over the last few months, working in the Academy and creating something new and exciting had fuelled her fire again, but it had also made her realise that – outside work – she had no idea what made her happy. She was looking forward to helping the young ones who would come here to make their dreams come true, but what were her dreams now? When it came to her personal life, she’d lost all her spirit. Her boldness. Her confidence. And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d even contemplated a relationship, love, or even a casual fling with some bendy sex. Although, she might have to work up to that because decades of shimmying on stage had played havoc with her knees.
The reason she wasn’t taking anyone from her present life was because she truly hoped that when she got to Hong Kong, she’d find the one person she’d lost touch with thirty-five years ago who could change all that. It was someone that Carina and Lisa knew well, so Moira had invited them along, fully aware that she needed all the help and encouragement she could get.
Yes, now – knocking on the door of her sixties – she reckoned this was her last chance to track down the carefree, bold, ambitious, optimistic dreamer who had been twenty-three-year-old Moira Chiles. The one who’d been so open to adventure, to risk, to dreams and to love.
And if Moira could find her younger self, then maybe she could remember how to live her life like all those things were still possible.