Page 41 of Our Song

We played ‘Anyone But You’ at the Battle of the Bands, and the minute we finished it, I knew we were going to win. I wasn’t being arrogant or anything, I just knew.

‘Fuck,’ said Brian, staggering out from behind the drum kit as the packed Buttery cheered wildly. ‘I think we might have actually done it.’

We descended from the stage, sweaty and elated. The first person I saw was Jess, throwing her arms around Tadhg. And standing behind her was Fiachra.

Fiachra and I had been seeing each other regularly since that last gig, but we mostly saw each other in his bed.

Or, on one memorable occasion, in the stairwell at the far end of the top floor of the Arts Block.

And, once the weather improved, in an outdoor stairwell behind the Arts Block.

I already knew he was at the Battle of the Bands – he’d led me out to the Atrium next door earlier that night for ten efficiently used minutes that had, I have to admit, given me a little extra glow on stage.

‘How was that?’ I said.

‘Well, I’m pretty sure you’ve won,’ said Fiachra.

‘I think you might be right,’ I said, beaming at him.

‘I’m definitely right, you were the best band,’ he said. ‘Especially you . The way you were looking down at the audience when you were playing, like you didn’t give a fuck if they liked what you were doing or not …’ He grinned. ‘It was very … imperious. I was kind of into it, I can’t lie.’

I shook my head, laughing. ‘Why does that not surprise me?’

‘Seriously, though, Laura,’ he said. ‘You were brilliant. I’m really proud of you.’

‘Oh,’ I said, slightly taken aback by the affection in his voice. ‘Um, thanks.’

‘Oh God, don’t look so worried,’ said Fiachra. ‘I’m not going to declare my love or anything.’ Then it was his turn to look worried. ‘We both still want this to be just a friends-with-benefits thing, don’t we? No messing around, no one getting hurt?’

I let out a sigh of relief. ‘Yeah, we do.’

‘Good,’ said Fiachra. ‘Well, in that case, as your friend, with benefits or otherwise, I can say I’m very proud of you. Or can I? If it makes things weird, forget I said anything …’

‘It doesn’t make things weird,’ I said, smiling at him. ‘And you can.’

He put his finger into the pull-loop of the zip at the neckline of my vintage dress. ‘Can I unzip this later?’

I laughed. ‘You can do that too.’

That was when a familiar female voice said, ‘Hello!’

Fiachra let go of the zip and I turned to see Jess and Tadhg standing behind me, arms around each other’s waists. Tadhg was wearing another well-cut charity-shop suit, grey this time. Jess extended her hand towards Fiachra. ‘I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Jess.’

‘Hi!’ said Fiachra. ‘Fiachra.’

‘You must be so proud of Laura,’ said Jess.

Fiachra and I exchanged an amused look. ‘I was literally just telling her that.’ He turned to Tadhg with a warm, genuine smile. ‘You were great up there, man.’

That was when I realised that they had never actually met before.

‘Sorry, where are my manners?’ I said. ‘Tadhg, this is Fiachra – Fiachra, this is Tadhg.’ I glanced at Jess. ‘Sorry, I mean Tim.’

‘Good to meet you,’ said Tadhg, offering his hand.

‘Likewise,’ said Fiachra. ‘I’ve seen you play a few times now, you’re deadly.’ He turned to Jess. ‘Are you a musician too? Or what are you into?’

‘I’m a musician,’ said Jess. ‘I’m on the Music and Technology course with Tim.’

‘Ah,’ said Fiachra. ‘Is it all Stockhausen and Schoenberg?’

‘Sometimes,’ said Jess. ‘And Xenakis.’

‘I mixed some Xenakis in with Aphex Twin when I was DJing last year,’ said Fiachra. ‘It worked pretty well!’

He asked about her work and she explained about the found objects and noise installations.

‘I’m not sure I’m selling it very well,’ she said. ‘Back me up, Tim!’

‘Well, I’m sold,’ said Fiachra. ‘I love an auld noise installation. Fuck, that sounded sarcastic. I genuinely do! I went to a great festival in Utrecht last year …’

And then somehow the four of us were chatting about festivals and the music course and our band.

I had almost forgotten that Fiachra could be charming and engaging outside his flirting.

I had forgotten how fun it was to talk to him about music.

It didn’t make me want to go out with him again, but it reminded me why I had gone out with him in the first place, before we both realised he wasn’t ready for a committed relationship.

Then there was a crackle of static and one of the judges clambered onto the makeshift stage holding a microphone. Tadhg and I exchanged glances.

‘Here we go,’ he said.

Please , I thought, please let my instincts be right . I only had another few months left of college, or at least of Trinity, and a part of me wanted to go out with a bang, or at least out with the Ball.

Fiachra’s hand took mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

‘And the winner of the 2003 Trinity Battle of the Bands, and a coveted opening slot at this year’s Trinity Ball, is …’

I squeezed Fiachra’s hand back, hard.

‘The Band Laura’s In!’

The room, or at least the bit of it near me, erupted. I flung my arms around Fiachra, who swung me into the air and then kissed me. He put me down and I whirled around to face Tadhg. Our eyes met and then he hugged me tight and said, ‘We did it, Lol.’

I hugged him back. ‘We did it!’ I turned to Brian and Jo and we wrapped our arms around each other in a big group hug.

Then Katie grabbed me and cried, ‘Come here, rock star!’ and the celebrations began.

The rest of the night was a blur of drinks and congratulations.

We all laughed at how thrilled we were – it was just a college Battle of the Bands; we hadn’t won the Mercury Prize.

But it felt like a real triumph. We ended up in a late bar, the band and a gang of our friends.

And Fiachra. When we were leaving the pub at the end of the night, he said, ‘Do you fancy coming back to my place?’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I do.’

‘Good,’ he said, looking at the neckline of my dress. ‘I’ve been dying to pull down that zipper all night.’

I put my arm around him. ‘Never change, Fiachra.’

‘As a psychologist,’ he said, ‘or at least as a future psychologist, I can’t promise that.’

‘Thanks for being my plus-one tonight,’ I said.

‘Any time,’ he said.

The rest of the gang was still hanging around outside the pub, and we said our goodbyes to everyone, Tadhg and Jess last of all.

‘We’re off,’ I said. It felt odd facing them as part of what, to others at least, looked like just another couple, announcing that ‘we’ were heading off. Jess and Fiachra bade each other farewell like old pals.

‘Congratulations again,’ said Fiachra to Tadhg.

‘Thanks, man,’ said Tadhg. He looked at me. ‘See you on Saturday?’

‘Of course!’ I said. ‘We’ve got a ball to practise for.’

Fiachra put his arm around my shoulders as we walked down the road.

When we reached the corner I glanced back.

Tadhg and Jess were still chatting with a group outside the pub, but as I looked at him he turned his head and our eyes met, just for a second.

Then I turned back to Fiachra and kept walking.

On the bus out to practice on Saturday, Tadhg said, ‘Fiachra seems sound.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘He is.’

‘I’m really happy for you,’ said Tadhg.

‘Um, thanks?’ I couldn’t help feeling a little patronised by his tone.

‘I mean it,’ said Tadhg. ‘You deserve someone great.’

‘Yeah, I know.’ Had he thought I wasn’t already aware of that? That I’d take anyone? I did not particularly want to talk about me and Fiachra with Tadhg. ‘So! We need to plan the Ball setlist.’

It was April now, the last term of my last year in college.

Everything was happening very fast. The Ball would take place in the second week of May, just before our exams, so we didn’t have a huge amount of time to practise.

For me, Joanna and Brian, these were our final exams, and for Tadhg, they would determine whether he could go on to the second year of the master’s.

He had way more exams than I did and the pressure was getting to him.

We saw each other even less than usual, and he always seemed slightly stressed when we had a rare cup of tea or grabbed a quick lunch.

One day an email arrived from Brian, sent to the entire band, asking if we could all meet in the Buttery that evening because he and Jo had some news.

Jo and Brian were there already when I arrived, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

Jesus, they’re not going to announce they’re a couple, are they?

I thought. So much for Joanna’s desire to keep things simple!

But once Tadhg arrived and we were all supplied with pints, Brian said, ‘So … I heard back from Bristol on Monday.’

‘And I heard from Stanford,’ said Jo. She glanced at Brian. ‘We’ve both been accepted for postgrads.’

‘Wow!’ I said. ‘Congratulations, that’s brilliant!’

And I was happy for them, of course I was. I knew getting those places was a big deal for both of them. But I couldn’t help my stomach sinking at the prospect of my friends moving hundreds of miles away. And not just my friends. My bandmates. I’d be losing the band.

But I couldn’t guilt-trip Joanna and Brian about that. So I said, honestly, ‘I’m so proud of you both!’

‘Me too,’ said Tadhg. ‘Well done. It’s really great.’

‘Thanks, lads,’ said Jo.

‘But listen,’ said Brian. ‘Jo and I, we want to make sure the two of you keep the band going.’

‘We can’t just replace you!’ I said. And I meant it. I couldn’t imagine playing with other people now.

‘You can,’ said Jo. She grinned. ‘I mean, whoever you get won’t be as good, of course …’

‘How could they be?’ said Brian.

‘But seriously,’ said Joanna, ‘academia is right for me and Brian. But you two … you’re meant to be making music. You’re meant to be in a band together.’

I wished she and Brian weren’t leaving. But their faith in me – and in Tadhg – made me feel hopeful about my musical future.

Tadhg turned to me. ‘What do you say, Lol? I will if you will.’

‘Come on, Laura,’ said Jo. ‘Promise me you won’t stop.’

I smiled at her. ‘I promise.’

And I meant that too.

Then, on one of those late April days where you can feel the first hint of real summer, I walked out of the Buttery and almost ran straight into Tadhg.

‘Hey!’ I said. ‘I can’t stop, I’m late to meet Fiachra.’ Then I caught the look on his face. ‘Tadhg, are you okay?’

His expression was grim, and his eyes looked like he might have been … Jesus, could he have been crying?

‘Eh, not really.’ He paused and then he said, ‘I broke up with Jess.’

I couldn’t say anything for a moment. ‘Shit, when?’

‘Um, a few hours ago?’ He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. ‘I’ve just come from her flat. Fuck. Sorry. It was … It was rough. She didn’t expect it. I feel like a total prick.’

‘Oh, Tadhg, I’m sorry,’ I said. And I really was. I mean, I couldn’t pretend my first reaction to this news was total sadness. But he was clearly so upset. And Jess … shit. Poor Jess. She didn’t deserve to be as unhappy as she probably was now.

‘I know I had to do it,’ he said. ‘It just wasn’t right anymore. She was talking about me going to her parents’ house in France when my job finishes in the summer, and I couldn’t let her start making plans, it wasn’t fair, I didn’t want to … shit, I don’t know.’

He looked so shaken I was genuinely worried. ‘Where are you going now?’

‘I’m meeting Ruairí in the Long Hall. Sorry to dump all of this on you. You’re going to be even more late for Fiachra.’

‘He won’t mind,’ I said. ‘Will you— Are you okay?’

‘I will be,’ he said. He let out a long breath. ‘I know I did the right thing. It just doesn’t feel all that right at the moment.’

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Well, take care of yourself.’

Then I hugged him. He rested his head on my shoulder for a moment and said, ‘I will. Thanks, Lol. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Fifteen minutes later, I arrived at Fiachra’s house. ‘There you are!’ he said when he opened the door.

‘Come here,’ I said.

And as I kissed him, a shameful little part of my brain was thinking just one thing.

Tadhg was single again.