‘You’re not exactly going to start taking the tube next week, are you?’ Kareem adds.
I bite into my burger and my spine relaxes, groaning in the back of my throat.
‘You’ll still need protecting initially, and if interest around you dies down and you find you don’t need me anymore, you can recommend to me to a new someone.’ Dennis bites his own burger.
A passerby takes a photo of the car, a camera flashing. We all ignore it.
‘But I’ll bet by the time interest around you dies down, I’ll be too old for this job anyway,’ Dennis says. ‘Are you– is that something you want to do, Sienna?’ he asks. ‘Take a break?’
I thought it might be a fleeting thought, but voicing it only gave it legs. Now it’s taken a seat on the sofa in my brain and it’s not going anywhere.
I nod silently. ‘I’m tired,’ I mutter. ‘Music is– I never thought I’d get tired of it, you know, of making music… and I haven’t. But my voice is so sore, Dennis. Even just singing tonight, you can hear the effect it’s had. I don’t know if my voice will survive this tour, but if it does, I’ll need a long break to recover.’ I sigh. I eat another bite and carefully chew it before speaking again. ‘And everything else is so tiring. The way my image– everything I want to do or say has to be checked first. Why can’t I just live?’
Kareem finishes his burger and starts to drive back to Hampstead.
‘I’d say that it’s brought you some beautiful things over the years, but I can imagine how that’s tiring.’ Dennis pauses. ‘We wouldn’t have met if you hadn’t needed twenty-four-seven protection.’
‘I’m glad we met, Dennis. You’re very… wise.’ I smile, and it’s sincere.
‘Try telling my wife that.’
‘I have, multiple times.’
‘Did she shake her head, tut and walk away?’ Dennisprompts.
‘Yep.’
‘Sounds like Sylvia.’ Dennis laughs a deep belly laugh that always makes my lips curl in the corners.
CHAPTER 25
DO YOU THINK IT’S OKAY?
TRACK 10 | PARTY POOPER
‘Do You Think It’s Okay’ is a very angry song about how I’m treated and whether people actually think it’s okay to scream at me in the street, touch me as I walk past. I was sick of it when I wrote the song in 2019, and I’m sick of it now.
My house is slightly cold,despite this afternoon’s sun. I wonder if maybe we left one of the spare room windows open, letting a night breeze cool down the air. Maybe autumn is already setting in.
Luc and I are trying to keep our private time secret, while still keeping up appearances to keep Mimi happy. I don’t want to tell her yet about the true success of her plan. We don’t want to put more pressure on what we have. More pressure than is already there. I need to take it slow, even though that’s the last thing I want to do. It’s been ten years in the making. I want him there every morning when I wake up, cooking me dinner every night.
‘Do you want to hear something cool?’ I ask, pulling a CD out of a gift bag on the kitchen island. ‘Because I have apresent for you.’
‘It’s not my birthday anymore, Sienna.’ He places his hand on my cheek. ‘What is it?’ I turn the cold plastic of the disc between my fingers before putting it in the CD player in the kitchen.
‘Sienna Martin, did you make me a mixtape?’
‘Sh, listen,’ I scold. The tinny sound of the demo rings through the kitchen. ‘I finished recording it at the studio last week. Couldn’t wait for you to hear it.’
I buzz around the kitchen, distracting myself from how Luc is listening to an early version of my song. I make us hot drinks – Luc an instant coffee, me a honey and lemon tea – and we lean against the counter, the music washing over us. He holds his beverage to his lip, not drinking while he continues to listen, but lets the heat from the cup steam up his glasses. I gaze out the window and into the darkened back garden.
The song ends and he clicks play again, and I cringe when his mug clatters against the marble worktop. He spins me around so I’m facing him and wraps his arms around me, swaying to the sound of our song, our story, in the background.
‘The working title isRunner’s World, but that will probably change,’ I explain. ‘The runner is both you and me. Your job when we met versus…’
‘Your personality for the entire time we’ve known each other,’ he finishes.
‘The personality I’m fighting against.’
