When I thought back now I wondered if maybe I’d been angry with myself for putting up with his crap for so long.
I looked up at the sky with its patches of blue and vast white and grey clouds, and for the first time I felt happy to be living here. Maybe I could adjust to country life after all. I loved the quietness, the sense of peace. I began to understand why so many people moved away from cities. Mary had told me that there were lots of creative types living in and around the village, artists and musicians who had been captivated by its tranquillity. Maybe my songs would get better now that I had such an inspiring place to write.
I picked another daisy and began plucking off its delicate white petals. Each one spiralled in the air before dropping on to my notebook.
‘He loves me, he loves me not, he –’
The gate creaked. I looked up and was surprised to see Nick walking across the grass towards me, a guitar case slung across his back. Oh my god. I dropped the daisy to the ground andslammed the notebook shut. It was so weird to be thinking about someone so intensely, and then for them to show up out of nowhere.
‘Hi, Jacki,’ he said.
‘Hey.’ I was so surprised by his arrival that I didn’t have time to get anxious about it. Nick looked like he hadn’t got much sleep, but still managed to look irresistible.
‘What’s the story?’ he said.
‘Nothing much.’
‘Are you going to the table quiz in the parish hall tonight?’ He took his guitar off his shoulder.
‘I don’t know; maybe,’ I said. I remembered Mum mentioning something about it the previous week. The idea of it hadn’t exactly excited me.
‘Well, if you do go, you can be on our team if you want. Sarah has to work so we’re one short.’
I was suddenly most definitely going to the table quiz in the parish hall. I hoped that he hadn’t noticed my face light up.
‘OK … well, I’ll most likely be there,’ I said, as indifferently as possible.
‘Right so. It starts at eight.’
I nodded. There was silence. Nick looked away, glancing awkwardly around the garden.
‘Do you want to sit down?’ I asked, moving my patchwork bag so that it didn’t separate us.
‘Sure.’ He leaned his guitar against the end of the bench.
‘Your mum was telling me you’re pretty good at guitar,’ I said, desperate to keep the conversation going.
‘I’m all right, I guess. I play lead in my band. We were playing a gig in Sligo last night. I’m just back from there now.Haven’t slept in ages, as if you couldn’t tell.’ He smiled, then yawned and looked as if he might collapse from exhaustion any second.
‘OK, so I won’t take that personally then,’ I joked. I wanted to add that I hadn’t really slept either. But I didn’t want to get into that. This was way too important. I was alone with Nick. I had to make the most of it, not start talking about supernatural nonsense. He didn’t seem the type to believe in that kind of thing.
‘What kind of guitar do you have?’ I asked, steering the conversation towards something we had in common.
‘An electric one, called a Fender Strat,’ he answered, punctuating each syllable as if he were talking to a two-year-old.
‘I have one of those too. I’ve been mainly playing acoustic lately though.’
Nick looked shocked. ‘You play guitar?’
‘A bit.’
‘How long have you been playing?’
‘Nearly five years now.’
‘Are you in a band?’
‘I’ve been in a few, but not at the moment.’
‘Concentrating on your solo career?’
‘I suppose I am,’ I said with a laugh. This was going well.
‘What’s your favourite band?’ he asked. He frowned and I knew a lot hinged on my answer.
‘Ooh, that’s a tough one …’ I knew what he was doing – he was testing me. It was a way of separating the actual music lovers from the posers, i.e. the people who wore Ramones T-shirts but couldn’t name any of their songs.
‘I guess Thin Lizzy would be pretty high on
I looked up at the sky with its patches of blue and vast white and grey clouds, and for the first time I felt happy to be living here. Maybe I could adjust to country life after all. I loved the quietness, the sense of peace. I began to understand why so many people moved away from cities. Mary had told me that there were lots of creative types living in and around the village, artists and musicians who had been captivated by its tranquillity. Maybe my songs would get better now that I had such an inspiring place to write.
I picked another daisy and began plucking off its delicate white petals. Each one spiralled in the air before dropping on to my notebook.
‘He loves me, he loves me not, he –’
The gate creaked. I looked up and was surprised to see Nick walking across the grass towards me, a guitar case slung across his back. Oh my god. I dropped the daisy to the ground andslammed the notebook shut. It was so weird to be thinking about someone so intensely, and then for them to show up out of nowhere.
‘Hi, Jacki,’ he said.
‘Hey.’ I was so surprised by his arrival that I didn’t have time to get anxious about it. Nick looked like he hadn’t got much sleep, but still managed to look irresistible.
‘What’s the story?’ he said.
‘Nothing much.’
‘Are you going to the table quiz in the parish hall tonight?’ He took his guitar off his shoulder.
‘I don’t know; maybe,’ I said. I remembered Mum mentioning something about it the previous week. The idea of it hadn’t exactly excited me.
‘Well, if you do go, you can be on our team if you want. Sarah has to work so we’re one short.’
I was suddenly most definitely going to the table quiz in the parish hall. I hoped that he hadn’t noticed my face light up.
‘OK … well, I’ll most likely be there,’ I said, as indifferently as possible.
‘Right so. It starts at eight.’
I nodded. There was silence. Nick looked away, glancing awkwardly around the garden.
‘Do you want to sit down?’ I asked, moving my patchwork bag so that it didn’t separate us.
‘Sure.’ He leaned his guitar against the end of the bench.
‘Your mum was telling me you’re pretty good at guitar,’ I said, desperate to keep the conversation going.
‘I’m all right, I guess. I play lead in my band. We were playing a gig in Sligo last night. I’m just back from there now.Haven’t slept in ages, as if you couldn’t tell.’ He smiled, then yawned and looked as if he might collapse from exhaustion any second.
‘OK, so I won’t take that personally then,’ I joked. I wanted to add that I hadn’t really slept either. But I didn’t want to get into that. This was way too important. I was alone with Nick. I had to make the most of it, not start talking about supernatural nonsense. He didn’t seem the type to believe in that kind of thing.
‘What kind of guitar do you have?’ I asked, steering the conversation towards something we had in common.
‘An electric one, called a Fender Strat,’ he answered, punctuating each syllable as if he were talking to a two-year-old.
‘I have one of those too. I’ve been mainly playing acoustic lately though.’
Nick looked shocked. ‘You play guitar?’
‘A bit.’
‘How long have you been playing?’
‘Nearly five years now.’
‘Are you in a band?’
‘I’ve been in a few, but not at the moment.’
‘Concentrating on your solo career?’
‘I suppose I am,’ I said with a laugh. This was going well.
‘What’s your favourite band?’ he asked. He frowned and I knew a lot hinged on my answer.
‘Ooh, that’s a tough one …’ I knew what he was doing – he was testing me. It was a way of separating the actual music lovers from the posers, i.e. the people who wore Ramones T-shirts but couldn’t name any of their songs.
‘I guess Thin Lizzy would be pretty high on
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