PROLOGUE
THEN
The Beatles: ‘Something’
A small group of teenagers crowded round a bench looking for all the world like a Topshop advert. From the centre drifted the strum of a guitar, the notes swirling and eddying in the breeze before floating away to meet fluffy white clouds that bobbed in a cyan sky. Below them, tiny buildings huddled along a cotton thread of river, thinning until nothing but fields and hills remained as far as the eye could see, all the way to the horizon. It was a beautiful view. But none of them were taking a single ounce of notice of it. Instead, they laughed and joked, swigged warm lager from cans in carrier bags, and occasionally sang along to whatever tune was being played.
Above all the laughter and singing rose one clear voice – and that was the one that eighteen-year-old Erin was mesmerised by as she hovered a few feet away from her group of friends. That deep, resonant voice was what she fell asleep dreaming about every night. Because it was the voice of Adam, the love of her life.
‘E, want another beer?’ Erin’s reverie was rudely interrupted by a shout from Sam, one of her best friends, who was waving a can in the air nearby. She shook the can in her hand, discovered it was almost empty, and made her way over.
‘Cheers,’ she said, swiping it from him, snapping it open and taking a deep glug.
‘What were you doing over there?’ Sam eyed her suspiciously.
‘Nothing. Just listening.’
Sam peered at her more closely, and grimaced. ‘Ugh, you look all dreamy,’ he said, his voice dripping with disgust. ‘Are you so madly in love that even hearing Adam’s voice turns you on?’
Erin shrugged. ‘Just because you don’t understand it,’ she said haughtily, giving him a playful shove.
‘What doesn’t he understand?’ Their friend Rose appeared at Erin’s side.
‘Being so sickeningly in love that just hearing someone sing can make you wet,’ Sam said, laughing.
‘Sam, don’t be so gross,’ Rose said.
‘Well it’s true. Look at the state of her.’
‘Can you both keep your voices down,’ Erin hissed, aware they were talking loudly and that Adam had briefly stopped playing.
‘Oh come on E, it’s not as though he doesn’t know you adore him. You fawn all over him whenever he’s anywhere near you.’
‘I donotfawn all over him!’ Erin could feel the indignation rising in her chest. So what if she was in love? What was wrong with that?
Sam put his hand on Erin’s shoulder. ‘I was only teasing. Don’t be stroppy.’
‘I’m not being stroppy.’ She took a gulp of her beer. ‘Anyway, so what if I love him? He loves me too.’
‘We know Erin, honest,’ Rose said, always the placater. ‘Sam’s just jealous because you go out with Adam every Saturday night instead of sitting at home with him watching Pop Idol like a saddo.’
‘She’s right. I’m well jealous.’ He glanced over to the bench where Adam was sitting with his guitar on his knee, swigging from a whisky bottle. ‘I mean, look at him. Who wouldn’t fancy him, all dark good looks and sexy smouldering voice like some sort of Brandon Flowers wannabe.’ He sighed. ‘It’s a shame I can’t turn him.’
Erin giggled. ‘Yes well, he’s definitely not gay I’m afraid. But he is gorgeous.’ She sighed. She did feel guilty that she kept abandoning her friends to spend all her time with Adam these days, but she couldn’t help it. She felt consumed by him sometimes, as though she couldn’t breathe properly if he wasn’t there.
‘Erin, what do you want me to play next?’ Adam’s voice drifted over.
‘I don’t mind.’
He raised his eyebrows and stuck a cigarette in his mouth, holding her gaze as he lit it, and she felt her legs go weak. He inhaled, blew out a puff of smoke, then balanced the fag on the bench beside him as he started strumming, the high-pitched chords instantly recognisable. She walked towards him as he began singing ‘Something’ by The Beatles, knowing the lyrics about the way she moved and her smile were meant just for her. She sat down beside him before her knees gave way.
As he played she tried not to stare at him, but instead studied her scruffy checked Vans and tuned out everything except Adam’s voice: the babble of her friends’ chatter, the occasional burst of laughter, the distant hum of cars on the road far below. They all melted into the background.
She jumped when she felt Adam move beside her, and before she knew what was happening he’d pressed his lips against hers and her whole body turned to jelly as she responded hungrily. He tasted of tobacco and whisky and something else, something musky and warm and deeply, deeply sexy. She felt as though she could float up into the air and drift away with the clouds, and never come back down again.
How could she ever live without this man?
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