‘That’s why you left Members last night?’
Realization dawns in his eyes and he nods. ‘Fuck. I said I was going to wait for you. I’m sorry, you know how it is when inspiration hits. You have to get the music out before it can disappear.’
‘This is why I should’ve learned to play an instrument,’ I hear Michael saying to the others. ‘Look at that face. She’s done for.’
I’m torn between wanting to stand there gazing into his eyes forever and needing to listen to his composition as soon as humanly possible. Thankfully, I don’t have to figure out what to do next because Alice sidles up beside me, resting her chin on my shoulder.
‘Oliver?’ she says sweetly.
‘Yes, Alice?’
‘You wrote a song for Mia?’
‘Yes, Alice.’
‘With your guitar?’
‘What’s your point?’
My friend points to the guitar case on the ground.
‘Why don’t you play it for us?’
As my face light up, Oliver’s pales and I know right away that he isn’t going to do it.
‘Today isn’t Oliver Jenkins live at the riverside, it’s Mia’s birthday.’ He takes the tape recorder from my hands and wraps his white wired earbuds around it. ‘My voice is so knackered from staying up all night, it would sound like shit.’ He sounds humble and apologetic as he hands it back. ‘Don’t listen to it now, waituntil you’re somewhere quiet. There’s too much ambient sound out here, these aren’t noise-cancelling headphones. As soon as I can, I’ll upload it. The digital file will sound better but I wanted you to have it on your birthday.’
I’m still standing, holding his gift when he sits down, taking my place on the picnic blanket and digging into the open cooler for a gin and tonic in a can. He pops the tab with a soft hiss.
‘What were we talking about before I so rudely interrupted?’
‘Whether or notPeaky Blindersis still any good,’ Bryn supplies as I shuffle into a space between Oliver and Alice, straightening my skirt and physically blocking the waves of venom she continues to send in his general direction. ‘Jenna says it isn’t.’
‘Anything with Cillian Murphy isgood,’ she argues. ‘I said it’s not as good as it used to be.’
And so the debate starts over but my attention is squarely fixed on Oliver Jenkins. With the can tilted against his lips, he glances in my direction, catching my gaze with a wink. Smiling back, I relax onto the blanket as he stretches out his long legs, crossing them casually over mine in front of everyone, in front of our friends.
‘Happy birthday Mia,’ he mouths, raising his drink and just like that, it really is a perfect day.
24
Ethan
‘Shit shit shit shit shit!’
When Mia walks into the kitchen, I’m standing on the table, apron over my shorts and bare chest, smothering the smoke alarm with my T-shirt. Even with her earbuds in, I know she can hear it. The damn thing is blaring so loud, I’m surprised I haven’t gone deaf already. When it stops, cutting out mid-screech, she pops out one earbud and looks at me with alarm.
‘Hey.’
‘Hey.’
One hand still covering the alarm on the ceiling, the other awkwardly propped against my hip, I give her a grin which is not returned.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Cooking,’ I tell her, tentatively uncovering the alarm while she opens the window, a gust of smoke blowing outside.
‘No one cooks—’
