Amber shrugged and smiled sweetly at me. She had to try. We both knew that.
“You want to do it here or find somewhere more private?”
Did I want to sleep with her again? I didn’t know. Right now, no. Right now, I was questioning why I went there apart from convenience and that made me a dick.
“Here’s fine.”
She looked disappointed.
“But what if you get upset with what we’re talking about. I mean, this isn’t going to be easy, is it?” She looked concerned and she probably was.
“I won’t. This is old news and I’ve come out of the other side pretty well, same with Jodie and Lena. The staff in that home were brilliant, so were most of the social workers and the teachers. I need to make sure that’s known because I know they’ve been getting some bad press.” It was strange; up until just before I announced I was retiring from performing my background had only ever been referred to, no one had focused on it.
“Okay. Let’s start with the day you left. Because you stayed until passed sixteen didn’t you, which I know is the leaving care age?” She slipped into professional mode, and she was good at this.
I sat back and told my story.
Amber took notes, interrupting me when she wanted to ask for more detail or felt I’d said something that would suit the aim, which was to make sure no questions were being asked of how the home had been run. There were plenty of cases where children had been taken advantage of by those who had a degree of power. This wasn’t one of them and there were plenty more the same, where the staff in the care homes had been first class and had gone above and beyond their paygrade.
“Were you ever more than friends with the two other foster girls who lived in the home?” Amber’s words were like a punch.
She’d met Jodie once when I’d been commandeered to babysit. Amber had turned up with a bottle of champagne and dark red lips, thinking I’d be home alone and had been accosted by two small monsters with sticky hands and a permanent marker. She hadn’t been impressed and even less so when Jodie had turned up twenty minutes later and spoken to me in a way that Amber would never have dreamed, mainly bossing me about and scolding as if I was the same age as one of her kids.
“Never. They were – and still are – the closest thing I had to actual family.” True answer.
“Do you want your own family some day?”
It was a question for the romantics and although I had a song which I knew had been some couples’ choice for the first dance at their wedding, I wasn’t a romantic. I had no idea how to be in a family, apart from the one we’d created in the band.
“Not sure. I have no plans to. But you never know what will happen in the future.” Because if I ended up with a family, or a kid at some point, I’d know what to give them. What I didn’t have for real. What I saw Jodie and Lena have with their families.
Amber smiled. She flicked her hair. A habit she didn’t realise she had. “Shall we open that wine?”
I shook my head. Having a drink with her would give her the idea we’d be getting involved in something more. “I’m driving back to the hotel.”
“You can stay with me. I can see you’re getting fidgety so carrying on with the interview anymore probably wouldn’t be productive, but why don’t you stay over with me, show me the night life in Reykjavik?”
She toyed with her phone and I knew it was selfie time.
I wasn’t up for being in selfie time so I stood up.
“Thank you for the offer, but I’m going to head back. I have an appointment to see a property this afternoon and some friends are staying at the hotel - I promised I’d catch up with them at the end of the day.” It was only half a lie in that they weren’t really friends. Sophie definitely wasn’t a friend. But I had said to Seph and Max I’d have a drink with them once they were back from whatever they’d been doing.
“Sure. Well, I have an early flight back anyway tomorrow, so probably for the best. We were always a little wild when we were left to ourselves to drink.”
“That’s partly why I’m stepping away from that scene, Amber. It wasn’t going anywhere apart from a rehab facility. I don’t want to be another washed up rocker.”
Her expression changed; she looked like she was searching for what to think rather than what to say because the idea of a change of lifestyle for her would be the opposite of what she wanted.
“There’s nothing wrong with that scene. We have fun. That’s what it’s all about.” She tugged at my hand to sit down. I moved it away gently.
“I wasn’t having fun anymore. I’ve had twenty years of playing gigs, of going from one venue to another, of rehearsing and recording and coping with egos that just got bigger. It was a privileged lifestyle and fucking tons of people would give their firstborn to have even a taste, but it’s time for something different.” It was the most passionate I’d been about anything since I started talking to her.
“You’ll be bored.”
I shook my head. “I won’t. I have plans. A project. I’ll settle the bill for the wine and food. Have a good night in Reykjavik.” I walked away to where the bartender was discreetly watching us.
Amber didn’t come after me. She didn’t even turn round to watch what I did and I didn’t watch her. I knew what she’d be doing; checking her phone, uploading onto social media, taking a selfie. Somewhere, someone would be having a gathering in Reykjavik and she’d find a way to be there, being that person at the front of the crowd, taking the selfie.
