Chapter Forty-Five

They offer to come with me but I need to do this alone.

‘He's playing a small, secret gig in Shepherd's Bush to celebrate the album announcement,' Serena tells me as I strip out of my grimy pyjamas and try to make my hungover face look vaguely presentable.

‘I'm so proud of you.' Lil squeezes me when we're at the front door. ‘You deserve your happily ever after.'

‘I think we all do,' I say.

‘You're both being too mushy again,' Serena grumbles. ‘Can we just get on with it so that I can head inside and eat a bacon sandwich? I've had to be disturbingly hungover for all this…' – she waves her hand in the air – ‘emotion.'

‘Okay.' I take a deep breath and jangle Lil's car keys (there's no way I am risking taking my car for such an important journey). ‘So there will be a ticket waiting for me at the door, right?'

Serena nods. ‘Yep, all sorted. But you'd better leave if you want to make it in time to catch him before the show. He's on in…' – she looks at her watch – ‘about an hour.'

I jump in the car, jittery with nerves and flying high on adrenaline. While this isn't the most practical plan, I don't care. After five weeks of painful agonizing, I'm ready.

Am I scared out of my mind? Yes. Am I going to risk my heart anyway?

You bet I am.

Because I love Theo Eliott, and right now I'm choosing him over being afraid. I am choosing a messy, beautiful, complicated life over one where I am safe but unhappy. Seeing Sam and Len yesterday made me realize even more clearly just how far I had shrunk my world down, how little I had let myself feel for so long. This summer has been an awakening. The fear that has been controlling me for so long doesn't get to have this.

My blood is pumping and I turn on the radio. They're playing a song I don't know but it's catchy and bright and I turn it up, up, up, roll down the windows and dance in my seat.

Almost an hour later, I pull into the car park in Shepherd's Bush and rush over to the venue. Theo will be on stage in only a few minutes, but there are a bunch of people still hovering around out the front. Serena told me that word of Theo's gig leaked a few hours ago and there has been a mad scramble for tickets. Evidently quite a lot of people who were unsuccessful have turned up anyway.

I push my way through the crowds towards the box office where a frazzled-looking man is trying to turn away wave after wave of eager fans.

‘Excuse me,' I say, then I try again because, unsurprisingly, he doesn't seem too interested in listening. ‘Excuse me. EXCUSE ME!'

Finally he turns to me, his expression grim, and I lean forward, lower my voice.

‘My sister, Serena Ojo-Harris, organized a ticket for me to collect.'

‘There are no tickets left for tonight's performance,' the man says with the tired, robotic quality of someone who's had to repeat themselves a lot.

‘Oh no, I know. Um, but she's with EMC – the label? It might be under my name? Clemmie, Clementine Monroe?'

The man fixes me with another hard look and crosses his arms. ‘Look, love, I've heard them all tonight so don't start. There are no tickets left. None. Please vacate the premises.'

‘Oy, we're… err, we're with the record label too,' a young girl gasps, shoving me unceremoniously to one side. ‘This is Theo Eliott's manager.' She points to her friend who looks about sixteen but tries to affect the appearance of a world-weary music manager who's seen it all.

‘I said, clear off before I call security,' the man at the box office snaps.

‘Oh well, at least we tried,' the girl says to me consolingly. ‘Maybe he'll come out and do autographs later.'

I hover for a moment until I'm pushed aside by the next wave of hopefuls. Shit. I head back out to the front and pull out my phone, ready to call Serena. When I'm greeted by an ominously blank screen I realize that somewhere between here and home the battery has died. I left the house in such a hurry I didn't think to check. Oh, God. What do I do now? I don't even know a single person's phone number off by heart anymore.

I rub my forehead. Right. Okay. I can do this. I'm making a grand romantic gesture here. I will not be deterred.

That thought comforts me for another five seconds, until I realize I don't really have a lot of other options. Maybe I can sneak in? Sneaking into a music venue is not very Clementine Monroe behaviour, but this is the new me – bold! Fearless! On a mission for love!

I skirt casually round the side of the building. I stuff my hands in my pockets and for some reason start chewing on an imaginary piece of gum. I look up at the graffiti-covered concrete like I am simply a humble architecture student fascinated by the quality of the workmanship. It's only when I realize that I've started humming the Mission Impossible theme tune under my breath that it occurs to me I might not be pulling off the role of stealthy outlaw.

Also, I am far from the only person who has had this plan. There are tons of people crowded round the side and they're being held at bay by a small army of very serious-looking bouncers in black suits.

I check my phone again in case it has miraculously come back to life. Nothing. Without any more of a plan I go back round to the front of the venue, sit down on the edge of the pavement and stare at my hands.

It doesn't matter. I can call him later. It's not like this is the only chance I have to tell him how I feel. Even though the thought is logical, I feel a deep pit in my stomach. It's not just that I want to be with Theo now, it's that I wanted to show him that. I wanted to do something to make him understand. Serena's ticket was supposed to get me backstage; he was supposed to know that I was there, cheering him on. Way outside my comfort zone but proud of him and his work.

I can tell him that, I remind myself. I can make him understand.

That's when I hear a familiar voice.

‘… and then maybe we'll see where the night takes us.' A pair of expensively distressed shoes step out of the car that has stopped in front of me and I look up, confronted by the last person I expect to see.

‘Ripp?' My mouth drops open.

My father looks down to where I am sitting on the curb and frowns. ‘Clemmie? What are you doing down there?'

The twenty-something blonde bombshell who's wrapped around him pouts. ‘Riiiiiipp,' she whines, ‘I thought we were going to see the show.'

‘In a minute.' Ripp disentangles himself and holds out a hand to help me up. ‘Why are you sitting out here on the pavement?'

‘There's been a mix-up with the tickets. I couldn't get in,' I say, trying to ignore the death stares the woman he's with is sending me.

‘Oh, now, that won't do,' Ripp tuts. ‘Why don't you come in with me?'

‘Do you have a ticket?' I ask.

He lifts his eyebrows. ‘I'm Ripp Harris; I don't need a ticket. I'll just ask them to let you in.'

I scoff at that, dart another look at his date, which Ripp follows. For a moment I think he's going to suggest bringing her too, but clearly he's trying to make a go of this whole parenting thing.

‘Sorry, love.' Ripp turns to her. ‘Looks like I've had a better offer. We'll do it another night, yeah?'

Her mouth drops open. ‘Are you being serious?' she screeches.

‘I need to spend the evening with my best girl.' Ripp beams winningly at me, and I think in his universe this is an act of good parenting – choosing me over a date with a woman ten years my junior. I suppose he is turning down a shag for me. Not that I want to think about that.

‘I cannot believe you are doing this, Ripp! We're done!' The blonde is quivering with rage.

‘Now, don't overreact, Carlie…' Ripp soothes.

‘It's Marley,' Marley snarls.

‘Course it is,' Ripp agrees. ‘Here,' he says, reaching in his pocket for his wallet to pull out a fat wad of bank notes. ‘Why don't you call the girls, go have a night out on me. You deserve it, and there's no sense denying London the sight of you looking gorgeous in that dress, is there? I'll call you in the morning.'

Marley's face softens as she plucks the money from his hands. ‘Fine,' she says, treating me to another glare (fair enough I suppose, though I think my father is the one who deserves it more). ‘But you'll be making this up to me for a long time, Ripp.'

‘You know how much I love making things up to you.' Ripp kisses her on the cheek and she giggles. I think my hangover is back.

With Marley disposed of, Ripp gives me his full attention. ‘Shall we?' he asks.

He saunters round to the stage door where the men in suits are still holding back the crowd. Something in the way he moves has the crowd splitting before him, and I hear someone hiss, ‘Holy shit, is that Ripp Harris?'

‘Hey, Tony!' Ripp exclaims, moving towards one of the surly-looking men, all smiles.

An answering grin breaks on Tony's face. ‘Mr Harris,' he booms from about seven feet up. ‘Didn't know we'd be seeing you tonight.'

‘Well, Tone, strictly speaking we're not on the list, but I was just passing by with my daughter,' he gestures to me. ‘She's a pal of Theo's so we thought she could drop in and surprise him.'

‘Not on the list?' Tony frowns.

‘I'm supposed to be on a list,' I say a bit desperately. ‘My name's Clemmie. My sister, Serena Ojo-Harris? She works for EMC.'

Tony lifts the tablet he's holding, and flicks across the screen. ‘Sorry,' he says. ‘Not on here.'

Ripp has been distracted, signing an autograph. ‘It's all right, Tony. She can come in with me, can't she?'

Tony's gaze flickers between us as more people start pressing forward. Camera phones start flashing. ‘Yeah, no worries, Mr Harris,' Tony says. ‘If she's with you, that's fine.'

So, it seems I'm bringing my mostly estranged father along to my romantic gesture. This is officially the most bizarre experience of my life, so I suppose it's fitting.

‘Cheers, Tone, give my love to Roberta and the kids, won't you?' Ripp sings cheerily as we sail past, and through to a badly lit corridor.

‘Right,' Ripp says, rubbing his hands together and sniffing the air like a bloodhound. ‘Follow me.' We begin to wind our way through the halls, past dressing rooms and what looks like a green room where several bored-looking men and women in suits are clacking on their phones.

Loud music fills the air, and I realize with a sinking heart that Theo is already on stage. ‘We're too late. He's already started. I think we'd better just find somewhere to wait for him when he comes off,' I say nervously.

‘Don't be daft,' Ripp says, getting in the spirit of things now. I know the look on his face. The buzz of being at a gig, the sound of the live music, the smell of sweat and beer… he's in his element. ‘Don't you want to see what he can do? Follow me.'

And like Alice and the White Rabbit I decide to simply follow him down the rabbit hole. I mean, how much weirder can the day get? As we get nearer to the stage, the music gets louder and louder.

Various crew members rush past, looking busy, and about half of them call out a greeting to Ripp. I guess he really is a familiar face around here.

‘I sneak in to watch a fair bit when I'm in town,' Ripp says, clearly reading my mind. ‘I like to see who's coming up. Sometimes I'll find someone who we can offer a support slot to, help get their name out. It's a tough business.' He shakes his head. ‘Small venue for a man like Theo Eliott to play, but it sounds like they're a good crowd.'

He's not wrong. I can already hear the audience roaring their approval.

‘Ripp, let me ask you something.' I put my hand on his arm, tug gently at his sleeve.

He comes to a halt. ‘Sure, shoot, kiddo.'

‘Say you wrote an album… the best thing you ever wrote, and it was all about Mum, or, I don't know, the woman you love, and it contained all these tiny little private details about your relationship. Would you release it?'

Ripp's brow crumples in confusion. ‘I don't understand the question,' he says.

I laugh. ‘Don't worry. I think you just answered it.'

We climb some stairs and then suddenly, there we are, right at the side of the stage.

And there he is. Theo. He's wearing a red silk jacket with nothing underneath it, and matching trousers. A baby blue electric guitar is cradled low on his hips, the strap slung around his neck. His fingers dance up and down the frets, silver rings flashing in the light, the ends of his dark hair damp with sweat as he flicks it away from his eyes.

His expression is intense while he croons into the mic, his eyelids drooping as that gorgeous gravel voice fills the air. I can't take it in. He's Theo and he's not. He stops singing for a moment, waits and lets the crowd scream the words back to him, a smile on his face. No one can keep their eyes off him.

‘Wow,' I whisper.

‘Yeah,' Ripp nods, standing close behind me. ‘That kid's got the goods.'

‘He does,' I agree, looking out at the crowd, how spellbound they are, and instead of feeling queasy, I just feel proud.

Suddenly, the lights on stage shift and Theo's gaze slides in our direction. I realize a second too late that from his viewpoint I'm standing, spot lit, right in the middle of the stage entrance.

‘Oh, shit.' His eyes burn into me and I gulp, lift my hand in a weak greeting.

Theo's own hands fall away from his guitar and he stops singing. Just stops dead. There's a moment of jumbled discord as the rest of the band try to work out what's going on, but Theo only stands there, eyes locked on me, and slowly they stop playing, too.

The entire auditorium of two thousand people falls silent.

My heart is beating so fast that I realize I am going to find out what it feels like to die of embarrassment. This is it. This is the end. I have just ruined Theo's gig. If this doesn't actually kill me, then Serena definitely will.

Some awkward chatter breaks out in the crowd, a hum of confusion. Is this part of the show? I know they can't see me, but I still feel exposed.

‘Excuse me, folks,' Theo says, straight into the microphone. ‘I'll be right back.'

And then he unplugs his guitar, places it in the rack beside him and strides off the stage, coming straight for me like a sexy, shirtless missile.

‘Oh, shit!' I squeak again.

‘Clemmie,' he breathes when he reaches my side.

‘Theo, what are you doing?' I shove his arm, panicked. ‘You can't just walk off stage in the middle of a gig. Get back out there!'

‘What are you doing here?' Theo asks softly, completely ignoring me.

‘We can talk about it later!' I hiss. ‘Just go, go!'

He smiles, folds his arms across his chest. ‘I'm not going anywhere until you tell me why you're here.'

I cast a desperate look at Ripp, and he grins. ‘Don't worry, love, I've got this.' Then he saunters nonchalantly out onto the stage.

‘Hello, London,' he purrs into the mic as the stunned crowd catch up with what's happening and start to go wild. ‘I heard my mate Theo was having a party with two thousand of his closest friends.'

The audience screeches, delighted by this weird and wonderful turn of events.

‘Now while he attends to some business, I wondered if you'd indulge me. It's been a while since I played for such a good-looking crowd.' And then, he picks up Theo's guitar, strums it a couple of times, and launches into one of his most famous tracks. The rest of the band share a brief what the fuck is going on? look, and then gamely start playing along. Soon the place is full of the sound of two thousand people singing a tune that Rolling Stone magazine ranked number nine in the top 500 songs of all time.

Of course, all of this is barely on my radar, because I'm so busy staring at Theo, who is smouldering at me with the shirtless intensity of a fallen angel.

‘What are you doing here, Clemmie?' he asks again, his voice steady.

‘I came because I love you, you idiot!' I hiss, smacking my palms against his chest and pushing him. ‘This was supposed to be a romantic gesture, but you've utterly lost your mind, you—'

Theo, the wall of muscle, doesn't flinch. Instead he puts his fingers gently around my wrist, and tugs me so that I'm falling against him, and then he lowers his head and presses his lips to mine, cutting me off mid-rant.

Fireworks. There are actual fireworks going off in my bloodstream, sparks flying off my skin, everywhere he touches me. We're a safety hazard. We're going to burn this building to the ground.

Finally, I pull away.

‘I'm still mad at you,' I say.

He lets out a long, slow breath. ‘I know.'

‘I heard the album. The real album.'

He starts. ‘How did you… Did Serena give it to you? I told her…'

‘She didn't,' I cut him off. ‘I have my sources but they will remain secret.'

‘I didn't want you to hear it, at least not now. I didn't want you to feel like I was – like anyone was – pressuring you to release it. I made something else for the label. I completely get why those songs shouldn't be out for just anyone to hear. I needed to write them, but only for you, for us.'

‘You're an idiot,' I say.

‘What?'

‘You heard me. You making a beautiful piece of art about us is not the same as our private lives being splashed around the tabloids. If you don't release those songs, it will be…' – I cast around for the right words – ‘it will be a sacrilege, Theo.'

‘I don't think you understand.' Theo cups my cheek. ‘If those songs come out, then people will dissect them; they'll write about them; they'll tear the lyrics apart and turn them into stories.'

I look into his eyes. ‘Let them,' I say.

We just stand and stare at each other for a moment.

‘I love you,' Theo exhales, his fingers tangling with mine.

‘I love you, too.'

The kiss we share then is the fairy-tale kiss, the happily-ever-after, end-of-the-rainbow kiss. It's soft and sweet and full of promises that I know we'll both keep.

‘I missed you so much,' Theo says.

‘I don't think I want to be an academic anymore,' I blurt.

Theo blinks, but otherwise doesn't seem too worried by the change of subject. ‘Okay,' he says, smoothing the hair back from my face.

‘It's been making me miserable for a long time,' I say, ‘but I thought I had to stick at it, because I've put so much in. I didn't want to be a person who quit because it was hard. I thought it was too late to change my mind. I didn't want to be in my thirties with no idea of what I want to do with my life…' I trail off.

‘And now?' Theo asks gently.

I let out a deep breath. ‘Now, I think maybe it's okay not to have everything figured out. Now I think maybe I don't need to prove anything to anyone… maybe I'd just like to try… being happy.'

‘I'd like you to be happy too,' Theo says, and he wraps me in his arms, tucks the top of my head under his chin and gives me one of those perfect hugs. ‘I want you to be happy more than I want anything else in the world. Even more than I want David to stop force-feeding me kale.'

I press into him, hold on tight for another second, then draw back. ‘What would make me happy right now would be for you to go and finish this concert.'

He kisses my nose. ‘You've got it. But when I'm done, we're leaving here together, okay?'

‘Okay,' I grin. ‘But only because you look so good in that suit you've scrambled my brain.'

He kisses me again, so thoroughly that my knees dissolve like water. He steadies me. Grins.

‘Later,' he promises.

‘Later,' I agree.

Theo is still laughing as he bounces back on stage, joining Ripp for the last couple of verses of the song he's performing. It seems my father has had no trouble at all vamping for the crowd, and they cheer and stomp their feet in appreciation.

‘Ripp Harris, ladies and gentlemen,' Theo says, leading the applause as Ripp takes a bow.

Ripp appears beside me, panting and happy like a Labrador.

‘Did you two sort things out?' he asks.

‘Yeah, we did.' I nudge his shoulder with mine. ‘Thanks.'

‘No worries. Good show, this.' His eyes sharpen. ‘Do you think your Theo might like a guest spot on the next tour?'

‘You can always ask him,' I say lightly, utterly confident in what my boyfriend's answer will be.

‘Okay, okay,' Theo is saying, settling himself behind the microphone with his guitar, once more. ‘Now, as some of you may know, yesterday we announced my new album, and I thought maybe I could give you a bit of a sneak peek at one of the tracks. What do you think?'

The crowd go wild.

Theo strums his guitar. His eyes slide over to me, and his voice dips as he says. ‘This one is for the woman I love. It's called, "Oh, My Darling".'

And while he plays, I don't feel scared or overwhelmed at all. I feel like I've come home.