Twenty
Now
Poppy and Norah stood side by side with their coffees, watching the kids go bananas on a huge sunken pirate ship jutting out of a ginormous sandpit.
Poppy was still dealing with the surrealness of the situation. She hoped it would pass soon. It had simply seemed so impossible that she’d ever get another chance to be in Norah’s life that she hadn’t even liked to hope. But they were moving past the past. Poppy couldn’t ask for more.
‘Freddie’s nose is running like a tap,’ Norah muttered to herself.
‘Probably a touch of hay fever around all the, ya know, actual hay,’ Poppy reassured her.
‘I hope so. He’s not fun with a cold. He gets very morose,’ Norah mused.
‘Morose?’
‘Yeah, he starts making plans for his own funeral. “Mummy, if I don’t wake up tomorrow, don’t give my toys away. Just put them all over me. I can sleep with them forever.” That’s a verbatim quote. Gave me the shivers.’
‘Very ancient Egyptian of him,’ Poppy smiled. ‘Luna goes full diva when she’s sick. Demanding only the finest snacks, the best made-up games, movies that don’t exist.’
‘That don’t exist?’ Norah repeated.
‘She has this tendency to think that Netflix caters to her whims,’ Poppy explained. ‘If she dreams up a story about a unicorn that makes friends with a koala, she fully expects it to be there.’
‘And when she finds out it’s not?’
‘She’s usually philosophical about it, but now and again, full meltdown.’
‘God, the meltdowns,’ Norah said, clutching her coffee a little tighter.
Poppy turned in surprise. ‘Does Freddie have them? He seems so chill.’
‘He’s just on best behaviour around Luna,’ Norah explained. ‘But he can throw a wobbler with the best of them.’
Poppy related to that. She felt she was very much on her best behaviour today. She was trying hard not to say something stupid around Norah. She didn’t even know exactly what it was she was trying not to say. But it felt as though a mistake lurked, patiently waiting to be made.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, sipping their drinks and watching the kids play.
‘Oh, what happened with Cherry, by the way? Do you know?’ Norah asked.
Poppy smiled. ‘Her mum is fine. It turned out to be an insane case of heartburn. She just has to quit eating cheese, but she’s gonna be fine.’
‘Jesus, what a relief for Cherry,’ Norah exclaimed.
‘Yeah. I know everyone has to die eventually, but I’m glad Cherry gets to have her mum that bit longer,’ Poppy noted.
She thought it was a pretty bland comment, but it seemed to send Norah into a thoughtful silence.
‘Do you ever think about what your life would be like if you didn’t have a kid?’ she asked a few minutes later.
Though the question had come a little out of left field, Poppy wanted to give her a considered answer.
‘I guess I’ve thought about it before,’ she replied cautiously. ‘But not really seriously. I mean, it’s hard. But I couldn’t have been more deliberate in the choice. So how could I complain?’
Norah paused as though she was wondering whether to press. ‘How deliberate?’
Poppy was kind of glad she was fishing. She wanted to be able to tell her. ‘I inseminated myself.’
‘With... Someone?’ Norah asked tentatively.
‘No. Just me. I’d been single for a while. And it was always something I wanted to do. I wasn’t sure if it was a perfect time, and I’d always hoped there’d be someone doing it with me, but my mum’s health wasn’t good. I wanted her to get to meet her grandkid. So I went for it.’
Norah was fascinated. ‘Wow. That must have been tough. Doing it solo.’
‘Yeah, it was,’ Poppy admitted. It had been extremely tough at times.
Her mum loved her granddaughter but couldn’t help her health being what it was. But Poppy had been able to afford a part-time nanny, which had made it feel physically possible, if quite lonely. But around the time that Luna went to school, the money had dried up, and things became tough in a different way.
Poppy supposed that was how it always was. Every choice led you down a tough road. You became a pop star, and you realised you hated it. You let a shitty career die, but you didn’t know what came next. You wanted a kid, but it was never the right time, and you worried it wasn’t on the cards. You did it anyway, and it was more work than you could imagine. You left behind an old hard, and you were immediately handed a brand new hard.
Like her new job. The café had saved her arse, but it wasn’t forever. She had a lot of time in front of her, and she couldn’t expect her child to fulfil her in every way. If she did, one day Luna would grow up and leave, and then what would Poppy do? Be one of those sad people waiting by the phone for her increasingly busy adult child to call?
Poppy was lucky her mother wasn’t like that. She’d had her own life after Poppy left. Poppy had to give that to her daughter. Show her how to be a full person with wants and dreams and all that crap. Only, she wasn’t her mother. She didn’t know how to do it yet.
‘You ever wonder about child-free life?’ she asked Norah.
‘Now and again,’ Norah said. ‘But I can’t imagine a world without him. So, like you, not really. Though I was less deliberate about it than you were.’
‘Oh?’ Poppy asked, hoping she didn’t sound as intrigued as she was. ‘I’m interested, but by no means nosy,’ was the tone she was striving for.
‘I got knocked up, being honest. I’d been seeing Max for about six months. I was like, “It’s too soon to get serious. What the hell are we going to do?” But he thought it could work. So we went for it,’ Norah told her plainly.
Poppy was slightly amazed at the way Norah was spilling like this. It pleased her but scared her, too. The pressure was mounting to say the right thing. To tell Norah that things would get better and that she’d find a way to make it work. But she didn’t want to offer a meaningless platitude. She wanted to say something real to her.
‘Are you OK?’ she asked.
Norah looked at her in surprise, and Poppy saw pain in her eyes. But only for a second. ‘Oh, yeah. I’m great. I’m just feeling a bit tired. Sorry about the whinging,’ she said quickly.
Back in the day, Poppy would have called bullshit. But it wasn’t then. It was now. Poppy had missed a lot of Norah’s life. Half of it, in fact. This person in front of her was still something of a mystery. Poppy had to keep that in mind. The best tack to take might be to act like they were just new friends. If Norah wanted to pretend she was OK, Poppy had to let her.
She glanced over at the trampoline and saw Luna take a tumble. She made ready to fly over and pick the kid up, soothe her through some tears. But Freddie was on it. He ran over and grabbed Luna’s hands and she was back on her feet. Then he said something, and they both giggled.
‘He’s a really sweet kid,’ Poppy said honestly. ‘You’re raising a good one.’
Norah didn’t say anything, but she looked touched. ‘You too.’
‘Sometimes I worry I’m raising a princess,’ Poppy said, trying to sound flip about it.
‘She’s confident and knows her own mind,’ Norah asserted. ‘I wish I’d been raised to be a bit more like that.’
Poppy was so shocked that she couldn’t speak. Raising Luna alone, there was no other voice to hear, no one to keep her in check, to say ‘Too much’ or ‘Too little.’ It made her wonder. So Norah’s complement meant, well, pretty much everything.
‘Thank you,’ Poppy said, looking away.
She couldn’t let Norah see that she was welling up like an utter dickhead. But if Norah noticed, she let it pass without comment.
Years Ago
Poppy could understand Norah’s response to her message. But it didn’t make it hurt less. Norah didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to hear an apology or an explanation. Poppy had wanted to try to give her something now the dust had settled. She felt up to explaining her decision.
But the friendship was dead.
The worst thing was feeling so alone with this. She and Norah had been becoming so close before this happened, and she was precisely the person she wanted to talk to. But obviously, that was off the table.
Her mother had always been a good shoulder, but Poppy was too embarrassed to talk to her about it. Her mum only knew what had happened with the song, but anything else was pure speculation. Poppy had kept quiet on the building romance. Now, she was glad she’d shut her mouth. She wasn’t sure how her mother would receive it all. She might think Mrs Caldwell was in the right.
Well, Poppy didn’t need that. She felt bad enough. She didn’t need anyone else to see her shame. Especially not her mum. She needed her to keep thinking well of her even if it was inaccurate.
She looked at Norah’s message again, at the one word. No.
What a terrible word. Only two letters and look at all the pain contained in them. Who invented it? A cold bastard, that’s who. One with no concern for the feelings it would provoke in all who heard it. They could have made it just a bit less harsh. Added a few letters on it to make it feel less like getting slapped. ‘Noggle,’ perhaps. Or sillier: ‘Nobewobbee.’ Or fun: ‘Noaroony.’
But it was just No. Like a door slamming in your face. Bang, over.
Her phone beeped again, and Poppy lept at it, hoping Norah had second thoughts. But it was just Sammy, the bassist from the band.
Get here now.
Where? Poppy replied.
Rehearsal room. The man is here.
Man?
The man from the thing!
Poppy couldn’t be doing this cryptic shit right now. What are you talking about?
‘The A and R guy. He wants to talk to the band.’
Poppy wasn’t excited, only confused. The guy Sammy meant was Jeff Park, and he worked for Jam Records, a small label. He had come to the showcase and the after-party and had talked to a couple of performers who were very much not them. She’d assumed they’d blown it. But he’d come down to the school? For what?
***
Poppy walked into the rehearsal room to find Jeff talking to the three other guys in the band. Sammy was talking about his influences.
‘Lemmy, man. He was a bassist, and he was still the star. And that’s hard because no one ever pays that much attention to the bassist. But he rocked so hard, you had to pay attention.’
‘Well, he was also the lead vocalist of Motorhead,’ Jeff pointed out, sounding bored.
‘I guess that helped, yeah,’ Sammy said.
Jeff noticed that Poppy had walked in, and his boredom evaporated. ‘Poppy!’ he exclaimed.
Poppy, who had no idea this man would have any way of knowing her name, was shocked by the familiarity of the greeting. ‘That’s me.’
‘I’m so glad you could come down. Fancy a chat?’ he asked, and it was pretty clear he meant just her.
Poppy glanced at the other band members. Sammy, Barnaby (the lead singer) and Micky (the drummer) didn’t look happy. Barnaby looked like he might throw a full tantrum. No one had understood what was happening until this moment. But it was obvious now. He had come for Poppy.
Poppy should have felt elated. But she was just scared. ‘Umm, OK,’ she said to Jeff. What else could she say? Noaroony?
‘Great, let’s go to the refectory,’ he said, ignoring the rest of the band’s daggers.
***
‘Sorry I didn’t have a chance to talk to you at the showcase,’ Jeff apologised. ‘I had to run to another thing.’
‘Right...’ Poppy said. She was still a bit confused as to what this was.
‘I want to tell you I thought you were great.’
‘Who, me?’
‘Yes.’
‘But I’m just the rhythm guitarist,’ Poppy told him. ‘You get that, right? Barnaby is on lead guitar and vocals.’ Poppy felt that if anybody from the band was getting plucked from obscurity, anyone would assume it was going to be Barnaby—including Barnaby.
‘But you sing backup, don’t you? And someone told me you’re the lyricist, too.’
‘Yeah, I do.’
‘I thought the lyrics were good. Your backing was strong, too.’
‘Oh. Thanks,’ Poppy said, absolutely baffled.
‘I was wondering if you had any demos? Maybe you write stuff that you perform by yourself?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Why?’ Poppy asked him outright.
He laughed. ‘Straight to the heart of it? I like your style. I’m trying to find someone for a group.’
‘A group?’
‘Yes, all female, three members. We could do with someone like you.’
‘Me?’ Poppy exclaimed, shocked.
‘We need someone who can compose. And your look could be perfect, with some minor tweaking.’
Poppy frowned. ‘Do you mean a girl group?’
‘It’s a group with girls, yes. I can see you’re thinking that’s not your bag, but this would be different. You’d all play instruments.’
Poppy was spinning out. On the one hand, she was being potentially recruited. On the other, she had never wanted to be a Spice Girl—not even slightly. She wanted to be PJ Harvey in an ideal world.
‘Look, I know what you’re thinking. But you have to remember, this kind of thing can be a stepping stone. If you get the job, it’s just the start. You can move in a lot of different directions with a high profile.’
Poppy had to admit, it was a persuasive argument. Still, she was unsure. She wanted to make music. But like this?
‘So, a demo?’ Jeff asked hopefully.
‘I’ve been working on some stuff,’ she admitted. ‘I’m not sure if I have anything you’d be—’
‘Send me your most polished track,’ he said quickly. ‘The thing you’re most proud of.’
It wasn’t hard to choose. It was “Norah’s Song.” It was easily the one she poured the most hours into. Still, she’d never actually thought anyone else would ever hear it. Showing it to Jeff seemed a bit mad. It would be like flopping her diary and saying, ‘Check it out. I got my heart smashed to bits, and it was all my own fault.’ Poppy didn’t love the idea.
Jeff was watching her carefully. ‘What is it?’
‘What? Nothing.’
‘You have a song in mind, I can tell,’ he said smugly.
‘I mean, yes. Sort of. But I wasn’t thinking it was for... consumption,’ Poppy explained carefully.
‘If it’s your best work, you’d be selling yourself short by not letting me hear it, wouldn’t you? And I’d hate you to miss your shot at a real career because you didn’t put your best foot forward,’ he explained smoothly.
Though Poppy didn’t know if this was a shot she wanted, something was compelling about Jeff’s tone. What if this was it? What if this was the only real opportunity she’d ever get in her whole life, and she was sitting here, considering letting it pass her by? She was going to feel so fucking stupid in twenty years, knowing she was a miserable failure who could have had it all.
But more than that, Poppy was in so much pain right now. She needed something else to think about other than Norah. She needed to stop missing her with her whole body and soul. She needed to lock onto something, anything else.
‘OK, I’ll send you the song,’ Poppy agreed.