Chapter Forty-Nine
‘Nice motor,’ I said, settling into the passenger seat of Liam’s Range Rover Sport.
‘I like it,’ he said. ‘It suits me.’
‘Yes, I can see that.’ Unintentionally, my words had sounded a little caustic.
‘Meaning?’ Liam shot me a sideways look as we set off.
‘Well, this is a bit of a statement vehicle. You know, as in I can close a million-dollar deal and then drive off to my remote cliffside property.’
Liam burst out laughing.
‘Dear oh dear, Jen. Is that what you think of me? I’m not that shallow.
I bought it because – hands up – it gives luxury but, more specifically, it has terrific off-road capability.
In my industry, I need a vehicle that can bounces over a muddy field or deal with snowy conditions. This car gives me a confident drive.’
‘Fair point. And sorry,’ I apologised. ‘I didn’t mean to sound rude. It came out wrong.’
‘Apology accepted,’ said Liam good-naturedly.
I wasn’t sure why I’d been so passive-aggressive about Liam’s choice of vehicle. Maybe the car had triggered me in some way. Peter had changed his vehicle every twelve months and had driven top-of-the-range every time.
The radio was playing softly in the background.
For a while we were silent and just listened to the music.
The Range Rover was now winding along Starlight Street, the single-track country lane with a steep descent to the A227.
From there we would drive through Meopham and on to Darent Valley Hospital.
The music faded out, and the broadcaster’s voice came in. He sounded like Tony Blackburn in his heyday.
‘And now, saying a very good evening to Hannah in Hertfordshire – helloooo Hannahhh! She has requested we play one of THE MOST iconic rock songs of all time for boyfriend John, celebrating their engagement following his proposal in Fiji. CONGRATULATIONS GUYZZZZ!’
Suddenly the opening bars of Stairway to Heaven filled the cabin. As the haunting notes of the acoustic guitar started up, I shrank back in my seat. Now the harmonising recorders were joining in. My hands clenched the sides of the leather seat.
‘Something wrong?’ asked Liam, glancing over.
‘Um, I’m not a fan of this song,’ I confessed. ‘It’s a bit too, you know, near the mark for me.’
‘No worries,’ he said, killing the sound. ‘However, Jen, you need to start deprogramming yourself.’
‘What do you mean?’ I frowned.
‘You can’t spend the rest of your life getting triggered by the simple things, like a tune. Just because Peter died on a staircase, it doesn’t mean you can’t listen to that song.’
I looked down at the footwell. Studied my feet for a moment.
‘Yeah,’ I sighed. ‘But it’s hard not to see it as symbolic of Peter’s departure from this world to the next.’ I gave a little shiver. ‘The day after he died, I heard that song on the radio. Several times over, as it happens. And I thought… I dunno… it seemed such a coincidence.’
‘And that is all it was,’ said Liam firmly. ‘A coincidence.’
‘You don’t think it’s Peter sending me a sign that he’s still around?’
‘I’m not a huge believer in the afterlife,’ said Liam frankly. ‘I mean, I believe there’s something but I’m not sure what that something is. I’m certainly not convinced that the dead have a desire to linger on Earth and harass the people they’ve left behind.’
‘You didn’t know my husband,’ I said darkly.
‘No, and nor will I ever, because he’s not here.
’ Liam’s tone was unwavering. ‘If anything, that song suggests materialism. Robert Plant said the lyrics were a woman getting everything she wanted without giving anything back. And I’d like to point out that Hannah in Hertfordshire has probably just received a whopper engagement ring from generous John without having to do the same for him.
Why else do you think she chose that song? ’
I sighed gustily.
‘Yes, I suppose that does put a different slant on it.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Liam, as we finally exited Starlight Street and joined the main road. ‘What sort of music do you like?’
‘I’m not telling you,’ I said, shaking my head.
‘Let me guess. You’re a hardcore Screamo fan.’
‘No!’ I snorted. ‘If you must know, I’m an old-fashioned girl. I like the sounds from the seventies. Some of the pop rock stuff. Queen. Fleetwood Mac. But I’m more a fan of the disco era. Bee Gees. Earth Wind & Fire. And… well, never mind.’
‘Abba?’
I gave Liam a sheepish grin.
‘I love their songs,’ I admitted. ‘I wanted to see their virtual concert in London. Somehow it never happened.’
‘Didn’t Peter offer to take you?’
‘Good heavens, no.’ I shook my head. ‘Their music wasn’t his cup of tea. Sally – my sister – said we should have a girly day out and go.’ I pulled a face. ‘But you know what it’s like. Life gets in the way. Mismatched diary dates, and so on. So, it never happened.’
‘I’ll let you into a secret,’ Liam confided. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to their virtual concert but never known a big enough fan to keep me company. Why don’t we go together?’
‘Omigod, really?’ I gasped.
‘Really,’ said Liam, as the Range Rover joined the A2. ‘Consider it a date.’