Page 24 of Our Song

‘You remember my friend Sarah? Well, her daughter Ellie’s a big fan of yours and …

oh God, this is a bit cringe, in fact it’s extremely cringe, and I’m only asking because she’s such a great kid.

Would you mind doing a video message, just saying hi and wishing her happy birthday?

It would make her so happy. She sang ‘Another City’ at her school show last year. ’

‘Of course, I’d be delighted,’ says Tadhg. ‘Her name’s Ellie?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Okay. Get filming.’

The video is very charming – Tadhg starts by wishing Ellie happy birthday and saying he’s honoured she sang his song at her school show, then says he hopes making music makes her happy and that she keeps on doing it.

He finishes by whispering, ‘Oh yeah, and your mam and her friends are all extremely cool and you should listen to their wisdom at all times.’

I laugh and stop filming. ‘That was perfect,’ I say. ‘Thanks.’

‘My pleasure,’ he says, and then the doorbell rings.

‘Sam’s early,’ says Tadhg in surprise. ‘That’s not like him.

’ He gets up and goes out to the hall, where a screen linked to the security camera shows whoever’s waiting at the gate.

But instead of the buzzer that opens the gate, I hear Tadhg’s voice saying, ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake. ’ I go out to the hall.

‘What’s up?’ I say.

Tadhg points at the screen. ‘I should have known Sam would never be early. It’s Hugo.’

‘Hugo the manager? You weren’t expecting him, were you?’

‘No, I was not,’ says Tadhg. ‘Shit, I suppose I can’t leave him waiting there. Tara’s not checking the door today.’ He presses an icon on the screen and says, ‘Hugo? Did we have an appointment I forgot about?’

‘Tadhg! Hi!’ The accent is south Dublin private school, the tone ingratiating. ‘I just thought I’d pop round before I head back to London.’

‘Okay,’ says Tadhg. ‘But you know I’m busy in the studio right now, don’t you?’

‘Of course, of course!’ says Hugo. ‘I just want to run something by you. It’ll only take five minutes.’

‘Fine,’ says Tadhg. ‘Come on in.’ After he hits the buzzer and opens the front door, he turns to me and says, ‘Sorry about this.’

‘It’s grand,’ I say. ‘I’ll make myself scarce.’

‘Would you mind staying just a minute?’ says Tadhg. ‘Hopefully seeing you will make him realise this fortnight with you is serious and he’ll give up on the other lads. Ah, Hugo.’

A fair-haired, pink-cheeked man in his late twenties is climbing the steps and now stands in the doorway, clad in an expensive-looking wool coat over jeans and polished brogues.

‘Tadhg!’ he cries. He beams at me. ‘And who do we have here?’

Tadhg steps closer to me. ‘This is Laura. I told you about her last night. We’re working together at the moment.’

‘Of course!’ says Hugo. ‘Great to meet you, Laura. What did you say her surname was, Tadhg? Murphy?’

‘McDermott,’ I automatically correct him.

He sticks out a hand and I shake it. His grip is painfully firm. ‘Hugo Delaney. And you’re not a professional musician, are you, Laura McDermott?’

‘No, I usually work in advertising.’

I’m not just some wannabe musician, Hugo! I have a proper career!

‘Cool, cool,’ says Hugo. ‘Where do you work? I have a lot of pals in the business.’

‘I’m freelance at the moment,’ I say.

‘But you must have worked at some agencies, right?’ he says.

‘Um, I was at Visions before Zenith took over.’

‘Visions! Wow.’ He literally looks me up and down, taking in my slightly messy hair – I am suddenly painfully aware my fringe is looking a bit wonky today – and scruffy runners.

‘You worked there? Very cool.’ He sounds insultingly surprised and then turns to Tadhg.

‘So, what you said last night about your songwriting session gave me a great idea.’

‘Okay.’ Tadhg doesn’t sound very enthusiastic. ‘Let’s go into the sitting room and you can tell me about it. But like I said, Hugo, we’re in the middle of work at the moment. Sam Chu’s coming over soon.’

‘The little drummer boy?’ Hugo pretends to drum a parrup-a-pom-pom beat. ‘Brilliant.’

Tadhg turns to me. ‘Can you wait for me out in the studio? This won’t take long.’

‘No worries,’ I say.

‘Thanks, Lol,’ says Tadhg.

They go into the sitting room and close the door.

Out in the studio, I start messing around on my guitar and come up with a guitar riff that might be too pop for Tadhg but which is great fun to play. I’m playing it so loudly I don’t hear the studio door open.

‘Hello! Hello? ’

The voice is loud, male and unfamiliar. I let out a little cry of shock and whirl around to see a stocky man about my age with black hair and a friendly expression standing in the studio.

‘Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he says. ‘I’m Sam.’ He holds up the cymbals case that he’s carrying in his right hand.

‘Oh!’ I say. ‘Of course. Sorry for screaming.’

‘Sorry for giving you a fright.’ He grins. ‘Can we stop apologising now?’

I laugh. ‘Sure. Where’s Tadhg?’

‘He’s still in there with young Master Hugo.’ He does a pretty good imitation of Hugo’s accent when he says his name. ‘He’ll be here in a minute.’

‘Cool,’ I say. I feel a little self-conscious. This is the first time I’ve met one of Tadhg’s friends from his post-me life, and I’m not sure what to say to him.

‘Anyway,’ says Sam, ‘great to meet you at last!’

At last? ‘I’ve actually only been here since Monday. Tadhg just asked me to do this last week.’

‘I know,’ says Sam. ‘I just meant it’s great to finally meet the famous Laura!’

I stare at him. ‘The what?’

‘I first heard about you when me and Tadhg started playing together back in, Jaysus, it must be 2007?’ says Sam. ‘It was just after I made the ‘Winter’ video.’

‘You made that?’

‘Yeah!’ says Sam. ‘I used to be a video artist. I mean, I suppose I still am, but I’m mostly a session drummer these days. Anyway! Tadhg wanted to start playing live with a full band, and I’d been the drummer in a band when I was in NCAD so I stepped in. And I’ve never stepped out.’

‘Oh,’ I say. ‘But, um, what do you know about me?’

‘Almost nothing!’ says Sam cheerfully. ‘Just that back when we started seriously playing music together, there were loads of times in the studio when Tadhg would play, like, a fragment of a song that sounded really good, and I’d ask to hear more of it so we could do something with it, and he’d say, ‘No, that was a song I wrote with Laura.’ And obviously I asked who Laura was and he said you were his old bandmate.

Actually, for a long time I presumed you were his ex-girlfriend as well. ’

I force a laugh and say, ‘I definitely wasn’t.’

‘That’s exactly what he said when I eventually I asked him,’ says Sam.

‘Anyway, I hadn’t heard your name for years, and then today I got a call saying you’re back working together!

So I had to come and meet you. And my wife’s picking our daughter up from school so I can stay as long as you like.

What was that song you were playing when I came in? It was really good.’

‘Just something I was messing about with,’ I say. ‘But I don’t think it’s right for Tadhg.’

‘Well, it doesn’t have to be right for Tadhg,’ says Sam. ‘It could be right for someone else.’

‘What do you mean?’ I say. ‘I can’t sing myself …’

‘You could sell it to another artist,’ says Sam. ‘You know, I work with a lot of producers – I could put you in touch with people.’

‘Seriously?’ I say.

‘Yeah, of course,’ says Sam. ‘If you’re half as good a songwriter as Tadhg says you are, you could make a real go of it.’

I feel a tingle of excitement. Could I really do that? Could I actually be a professional songwriter?

The door of the studio opens and Tadhg walks in with a face like thunder.

‘Are you okay?’ I say.

He takes a deep breath. ‘Yeah. It’s fine. Just Hugo being Hugo.’ He rubs his chin. He’d clearly shaved since I saw him yesterday evening but it looks like the stubble is growing back already. ‘Anyway, he’s gone now. Sorry to keep you waiting. You’ve met Sam?’

‘I sure have!’ I sound ridiculously chirpy.

‘Great,’ he says.

‘Sure you’re all right, bud?’ says Sam. ‘You look a bit rattled.’

‘I’m grand,’ says Tadhg. ‘Sorry. It’s just … ah, it’s nothing. Just another reminder that I really need to get a new manager.’

‘You’ll find someone,’ says Sam. ‘Right! I’m going to get set up.’

While Sam arranges the drum kit to his liking, Tadhg says, ‘I think I’ve got Hugo off my back about working with those other producers. So don’t worry, he’s not going to make a fuss about us working together anymore.’

‘Oh,’ I say. I hadn’t known for certain that he had been making a fuss about us working together, but I guess now I do. ‘Well, that’s good. Isn’t it?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, it is. Sorry, Lol. Let’s forget about him for now.’ He picks up his bass. ‘How are you doing there, Sam?’

Sam gives us a thumbs up. ‘All good!’

His jovial vibe helps dispel the cloud cast over Tadhg by whatever Hugo said in the house. Tadhg smiles and says, ‘All right. Lol, will we try playing this morning’s one? And Sam, just come in when you feel like it.’

It only takes Sam a few bars before he’s right in the song with us.

I can see why Tadhg’s been playing with him for all these years – he’s a dream band member, staying connected to both of us rather than just doing his own thing.

When we finish the song – Sam plays one last drum roll and somehow ends with a perfect tight bass drum beat just as I play the last chord, despite the fact that he’s never heard the song before – I feel the same way I felt in that band room back in 1999.

A joyful amazement that I’ve just been part of something that sounded that good.

‘Not bad!’ says Sam. ‘Not bad at all!’

‘Sam,’ says Tadhg, ‘you’re a godsend.’

‘Can we try another song?’ says Sam.

‘We can try lots of songs,’ says Tadhg.

That’s what we do.

And for the whole afternoon, Tadhg and I are in a band again.