Chapter 22
ED
Now
With the recent revelations that Evie was possibly pregnant when she left has increased the interest in the band and ticket sales for most dates on our Reunion Tour are almost sold out.
Amira Malik is also now convinced that Genie McNamara from Richmond is Evie Del Rio and to be honest I guess she could be.
Unfortunately, there aren’t too many up-to-date photos of Genie McNamara apart from a profile photo on a very old Instagram account that I suppose could be Evie but Evie/Genie hasn’t said a word as yet.
There have been no interviews to the press.
I think fondly back to being in our first band The Propellers with Mark and Jez and all the attention we used to get from the girls.
Being in a band holds some sort of fascination to people.
Mark and Jez seemed to swap girlfriends every few weeks and there was never any shortage of willing volunteers.
Jez eventually settled down with Poppy, a girl he had known since primary school.
But the one real consistency was Evie and me.
We were the power couple of our group. Girls would always try and chat me up, but I only ever had eyes for Evie.
The last time I saw Evie, we had a great day hanging out at Mark’s house, me jumping in and out of the pool.
I remember the day quite well, as Evie had rowed with her Mum yet again and had just run out of the house to come and join us.
If only I’d known at the time that that was to be my last day with Evie, I would have paid her more attention.
Unfortunately, us lads were more concerned with showing off to each other by divebombing into the pool.
I remember kissing her goodbye and offering to walk her home, which she refused as I was never in Mrs Del Rio’s good books, and Evie was anxious to get back.
The photos Virginia showed me are the last ones of us all together, but I’m still not sold on Virginia’s hunch that Evie was pregnant when she left.
I’ve decided I’m going to drive to the gym, as the car needs a run.
I’ve been so busy recently that I haven’t done much driving, and my leased Mercedes has been gathering dust in the communal garage.
I’m lucky that we have tight security here.
Sid our security guard, is a right character: an ex-policeman who can sniff out a wrong-un a mile off.
He always has time for a chat and is constantly ready to dish out some advice, whether you ask for it or not.
He has his finger on the pulse, and if he likes you, you’re sorted.
He got rid of a lot of tabloid photographers who were hassling me when the press found out where I live.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Nash.’ Sid calls out from the other side of the garage, where he’s using his litter picker to rid the garage of any bits of rubbish that have dared to take up residence.
‘Hi, Sid. Please call me Ed. Mr Nash is reserved for my dad.’ I joke. He often calls me Mr Nash despite my persistence to get him to only use my first name. It’s like he needs fresh permission every so often to use my first name.
‘Of course, Ed. How’s life treating you? You’re not having any trouble with the press at the moment, are you?’ he enquires.
‘They seem to have given up turning up here since you got rid of them the last time, but the interest of social media has intensified since that Netflix interview.’ I reply.
‘I’ve been so busy recently that I’ve been neglecting my car, so I thought I’d give it a run.
I’ll catch you later, Sid.’ I say, climbing into my car.
I drive up the ramp from the car park, giving him a wave as I leave.
I know that if I don’t leave now, Sid, who likes a chat, would have me there for at least another fifteen minutes.
It’s good to be behind the wheel once again, and as the weather’s still warm, I decide to have a slow drive through Richmond Park.
What’s the point of having a convertible if you don’t have the roof down now and again?
I love Richmond Park. There’s a sense of freedom when you are here, whether you are jogging, walking, cycling or driving.
I wonder if ‘my Evie’ is Genie McNamara from Richmond who TikTok seem to be obsessed with?
Weird to think that if Genie McNamara is Evie then we might even have passed each other in the street as we live just miles from each other.
I’d love to have just half an hour with Evie to chat to her; find out about how life has treated her, to see if we do have a child together.
Women have tended to come and go in my life.
No one has ever put up with me for more than a couple of months.
It’s always the drinking, the drug taking and the inability to keep it in my pants, so who can blame them really?
What have I achieved really? Not a lot. I’ve written a bunch of songs that have only become popular because of a TV show, I’ve drank too much, taken far too many drugs and let people down along the way.
Not much of a catch really. Why on earth would Evie be interested in me now?
The drive around the park has certainly given me some headspace, although I think I sometimes think far too deeply about everything. Maybe that’s what helps me write my lyrics. I find it easier to say what I feel through my music.
I arrive at the gym and park up. I keep my sunglasses on as I walk through reception, as all the receptionists know who I am and I’m beginning to think one of them leaked my home address to the press. I mean, I can’t prove it; it’s just a hunch.
I really bust it out in the gym. I hit the running machines, do some weights and spend time in the outdoor jacuzzi and sauna afterwards. Once I’m done working out and relaxing, I go to the changing rooms, where I get showered and then get dressed.
I grab a coffee from the café and sit outside in the recently remodelled and landscaped gardens.
I scroll through my social media accounts.
There’s a link to a story on one of the tabloid sites that catches my eye: “Is this Ed ‘Nasher’ Nash’s Evie Del Rio, the inspiration behind the hit song “Used to Be” by The Mountaineers?
There’s an article, if you can call it that, saying that Genie McNamara and family were spotted at Heathrow Airport, jetting off somewhere nice and hot to escape #thegirlinthesong media storm.
I press on the link and find a slightly blurred photo of Genie McNamara, her husband and her two kids arriving at Heathrow Airport.
It doesn’t even say where they are going.
I take a further look at her children, although their faces have been blurred by the press as they seem quite young, so there’s no possibility that either of the children could be mine.
If Evie had had a child all those years ago, they would be in their early thirties which seems mad seeing I’m just approaching fifty.
I google Genie McNamara to see what else is out there and find photos of Genie and her family coming and going in Richmond.
Intrusive photos, where the family are caught off guard and I momentarily feel bad that Genie McNamara’s family are experiencing this amount of scrutiny, but at the same time, I am hopeful that in time all this information will help me find Evie.
I finish up my coffee and pop my phone in my back pocket of my jeans and leave the gym.
The weather is still warm and I put the roof down again on my car, enjoying the early evening breeze and the sun on my face, drive straight in to the underground car park back at the flat and take the lift upstairs and sit on the balcony and continue googling Genie McNamara but there’s not much written about her, apart from what I’ve seen already.