‘Thanks,’ said Laura, her eyes shining.
Romany was intrigued. What was going on? Where was the nerdy Leon that she had always known? Not here, that was for sure. This Leon was actually pretty cool. Her friends certainly seemed to think so as they each vied for his conversational attention. Then something sparkled at the back of Romany’s memory. Hadn’t her mother told her that Leon used to play an instrument when they were at uni, that he’d been quite good?
‘Do you play, Leon?’ she asked him.
The response was instantaneous and unmissable. He seemed to shrink a little in his chair and his shoulders hunched over.
‘Not really,’ he said into his lap. ‘I used to play a bit of sax when I was your age, that’s all.’
‘Were you in a band?’ asked Laura.
Leon shook his head. ‘No, nothing like that. I just played for myself really.’
‘You should do a slot here,’ said one of the others.
‘Yes!’ said Romany. ‘Yes, that’s a great idea. We can sign you up for a slot for next month. What kind of stuff do you play?’
Leon bit his lip and folded his arms across his chest. ‘Jazz, but I’m not sure . . .’
‘Oh, go on,’ urged Romany. ‘There’s barely anyone here anyway. It’ll be cool.’
Leon was still looking as if he would rather be anywhere else. So then Romany deployed her killer point.
‘You should do it for Mum,’ she said.
44
‘Did you get your uni application sent off?’ Tiger asked Romany the following Saturday. Whilst they didn’t see much of each other during the week, they had taken to coming together on a Saturday evening to watch whatever was on the television for a bit. It wasn’t too much of a sacrifice. If Romany had plans for the night, they didn’t generally kick off until a bit later, and Tiger seemed to appreciate the chance to chat. She was learning that he was good company, too.
‘I once met this shaman in Bali,’ he might start, or, ‘When I was working in a shoe shop in Helsinki . . .’
She never knew what was true and what wasn’t, but she assumed that most of his stories had either happened to him or to someone he had met. She could picture him, sitting round in hostels the world over, swapping tall tales to keep the other travellers entertained. He was good at it, a natural storyteller. She hadn’t really thought that being able to tell an anecdote was such a skill until she heard Tiger weaving his. It didn’t matter how the story ended, either, whether it was funny or tragic, or whether, like some modern-day fable, it came with a warning attached. The joy of Tiger’s stories was in the journey. She had told him that he should write them down, but he just scoffed at the suggestion.
‘Me?’ he laughed. ‘I can barely hold a pen.’
She thought he was joking – but she wasn’t entirely sure.
‘No, I’ve not sent it yet,’ she replied. ‘School said I couldn’t put just Durham down. I need a Plan B apparently, so I’ve had to do a bit of research on other places. It took a bit of time.’
He nodded. ‘Makes sense,’ he said. ‘Although I’m sure you won’t need one – a Plan B, I mean. And Durham is still your top choice?’
‘Yes, I think so,’ she replied.
‘Fancy a trip up there?’ he asked. ‘So you can get a feel for the place before you commit? We could get a train, if you like. Or we could hitch . . . ?’
‘We’ll get a train,’ said Romany firmly. ‘I’ll dig into the money that Mum left for travel.’
They went the following weekend. Romany was a little apprehensive. Even though they had been living together for a month or so, they didn’t see each other much. A whole day was a long time to spend together with no chance of escape. Still, she really should visit Durham before she finally sent her form off, in case she absolutely hated the place, and she wasn’t that keen to make the trip on her own.
At the station, she bought them a steaming cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin each.
‘Your mum would be turning in her grave,’ Tiger teased her.
Romany had noticed that unlike everyone else, Tiger didn’t avoid talking about her mum or flinch each time they said something that they thought might be insensitive. He just carried on as if her death was just another thing that had happened. To start with, she had found his bluntness inappropriate and had resented that he seemed to make no allowances for her feelings, but now it was refreshing.
‘She would. Caffeine AND sugar at once. She didn’t mind though, not really. Yes, we ate vegan at home and there was never sugar in the house, but if I came home with a packet of Haribos or had an egg sandwich at lunchtime she never made a fuss.’