‘It took me a while to track you down after you popped that pound into my case. Standing on your own two feet I see? Not bad for a first home.’ Silence hangs. ‘Well, can I come in?’
Unnerved by the unexpected visit, I gabble my reply. ‘I’ve no money. I’m broke myself. And there’s no room for you to stay as I have a lodger.’
‘I should probably head off … is everything OK, Daisy?’ Joe frowns when he catches sight of my dad. Seeing him through Joe’s eyes, I realise how unappealing he is. His lips are thin, and he has a cold sore stamped above them. His skin is sallow, his head closely shaved and there’s a new tattoo– a lizard?– curling from his left ear to his chin. He smells of damp.
‘Boyfriend?’ my dad asks.
I turn to Joe, willing him not to reject me as I throw my arms around his neck. ‘Fiancé. Actually, Joe-Joe, I’ve changed my mind, I think I will come shopping with you after all. Can you grab my purse from the living room?’ Joe complies without arguing. ‘How did you find me?’ I hiss at my dad.
He shrugs. ‘Asked around. You’ve changed your name but not that much. And if you aren’t keen to be found you might want to go brunette instead of rainbow.’
‘I’m not changing for you.’
‘No, neither of us were ever good at doing that,’ he says cheerfully.
I grab my keys from the hook above the door. Stepping over the doorstep with Joe behind me, I grab the purse from him and pull out twenty quid. ‘Here’s the money for the windows. I don’t think we will be needing you again after we’re married as we’re looking around for a place together.’ I leave my father on the doorstep, thoughtfully pocketing my money as I slam the door and walk away.
‘Why did you tell the window cleaner we’re engaged?’ Joe enquires, as I pick my way along the pavement, carefully checking the lines between the flags.
‘I caught him looking at the contents of my underwear drawer through the window,’ I reply, aware this doesn’t explain a new spouse. ‘Best to find someone else I think.’
‘One that brings a squeegee instead of a guitar?’
‘Exactly.’
‘I kinda liked it when you called me Joe-Joe though,’ he teases, and a snatch of music from my past spools through my mind. Humming The Beatles’ ‘Get Back’,I wonder if I ever truly belonged.
Chapter 18
The next morning Eva grunts hello before trudging into the bathroom to get ready for her shift. I suspect she isn’t in the best of moods when she stabs at her porridge with a knife and eats it with a fork.
Before heading out, I schedule the day’s tweets. Working my positive psychology notes into my daily tweets and reels, I’m finding it satisfying to draw on my education and knowledge. I quickly knock together a video for TikTok about money buying happiness only when it’s given away. I back it with a trending sound before deleting the video from my phone. Money bought my flat. I need to follow my own advice and be authentic.
I carefully consider how to dress for today’s session with Vince. To enhance the theme of our outing together, I wear yellow, a colour connected with positive mental health. And to stop imposter syndrome kicking in again, I throw myself into being Little Miss Sunshine on location. Rooting through my sewing basket, I find a roll of yellow ribbon and stuff it into my handbag, then tie my hair into a high ponytail before heading down to the green.
I spot Vince from a few hundred metres away, bending like a tree in the wind as he ties his shoelaces. When he sees me, he holds out his arms for a hug, acknowledging our more relaxed session in the wild. He pulls me into an embrace, and I recoil at the smell– furniture polish and whisky? A truck carrying six cars belches fumes. Vince is buoyant. ‘I’ve been watching the traffic. It’s four-wheeled gymnastics; cars weaving around buses and people dodging cyclists. The noise is deafening. Thunder Road.’
I smile, understanding his reference. ‘The hottest highway on earth? Two lanes that could take us anywhere and everywhere.’ When Vince does a double take, I explain it was my father’s favourite song when he was feeling down. ‘Dad used to sing Springsteen’s greatest hits as he spouted Wiki rock facts about The Boss and cried about being alone. I used to remind him he wasn’t on his own, but it didn’t cheer him up. Did you know “Thunder Road” was originally called “Wings for Wheels”? And it wasn’t inspired by Glory Road as people assumed, although Glory Road did go on to inspire a draft of “Born to Run”. Thunder Road itself featured in lyrics of “The Promise”, which is the greatest ever tribute to a man who couldn’t hack being a rock star IMO.’
‘IMO? I can only think of ELO and INXS.’
‘Text speak.’ I smile.
‘The language of the young.’
‘IKR …’ I tease. His eyes meet mine, and in the daylight they aren’t quite as deep and dirty as they looked on stage. ‘Less than two per cent of people on this planet have green eyes. But it’s a myth that most people are born with blue. It depends on their ethnicity and DNA.’
Vince frowns as he tries to work out the link I’ve made between his guitar hero and iris colour. Meanwhile my thoughts have landed on those blue eyes that brighten up the greyest of days. I mentally swipe them away.
‘My wife and I agreed our baby son had “haint blue” eyes. It’s the name of a paint colour they used on buildings in South Carolina. Mine are obsidian,’ he says.
‘Oh please. The only people with truly obsidian eyes are vampires over two thousand years old, so I’m afraid you don’t make the cut.’
‘You think?’ He pushes out his upper teeth like fangs and throws the ends of his trademark leather coat into the air. He’s playful today; getting out of the house is clearly good for him.
‘I have a new happiness task for us to do together.’ I pull out the roll of ribbon I brought with me. ‘You’ll have noticed it’s become a thing to tie a yellow ribbon around a tree at certain times of the year. People do it all around the world. As you’re into music you’ll also probably appreciate the idea originally came from a song. Not that you’d have been alive back then?’
He throws his head back in laughter. ‘Well, I was technically alive in the seventies, but it wasn’t quite my summer of love.’
