still working in the music industry?’
‘Yeah, off and on,’ she said. ‘Only on a freelance basis these days.’
‘Who have you met?’ asked Josh.
Lydia smiled and flicked back her hair. ‘Loads of people you’ve probably never heard of.’
I looked at Josh’s face. It was the first time she’d said something that hadn’t gone down well.
‘I knew who Joe Strummer was,’ he said. ‘I know loads of stuff from the seventies and eighties. Dad’s still got all his LPs.’
Lydia bit her lip, looked out of the window for a moment. ‘Of course,’ she said, turning back to Josh. ‘I should have realised. Will Keith Richards do you for starters?’
Josh grinned. He had that childlike expression on his face again. She had redeemed herself and she was nowgoing to regale him with tales of music legends she had once lent a cigarette lighter to.
He was hers now. She might as well have offered him Turkish delight.
* * *
‘What was your mum like?’ asked Matilda when we got back home later.
Josh glanced up at Chris before answering. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘She knows a lot about music stuff.’
‘Is she going to come here?’ asked Matilda.
Josh didn’t answer.
‘Probably not, love,’ I said. ‘At least, not for now.’
‘Why? Don’t you like her?’
‘These things take time,’ I said. ‘Josh still doesn’t really know her. Now, why don’t you go and get your reading book out and I’ll be up to listen to you in a few minutes.’
Matilda groaned, simply because that was Josh’s reaction to homework, not because she actually disliked it, and disappeared upstairs.
‘So it went all right, then?’ Chris asked Josh.
‘I think so.’
‘Do you think you’re going to see her again?’
‘Yeah. She’s invited me around to her flat to see her record collection.’
‘Good. Well, I mean, if that’s what you want.’
‘Sounds like she’s got some really good stuff. Not that you haven’t, like.’
Chris nodded. ‘Sure. I understand.’
‘OK. Sorted,’ said Josh, before going up to his room.
‘Thanks,’ I said to Chris. I went to give him a hug.
He pulled away sharply.
‘What?’ I asked.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just I can smell her. I can actually smell her on you.’
She got to the point where she just said ‘like’ about everything, as if her entire life was played out on Facebook. So if she saw a pair of shoes she wanted in a shop, she’d say ‘like’ and she’d even do a little thumbs-up in the air.
And half the time at home she didn’t talk to me, she’d only communicate through Facebook. So if I said something funny, she wouldn’t laugh, she’d share it on Facebook with an LOL next to it. Even if I was sitting bloody next to her on the sofa.
Once, when we were supposed to be going out for a meal, she was late because she couldn’t decide what to wear. She’d shared photos of three outfits on Facebook and was waiting for her ‘friends’ to decide. By the time they’d decided I’d ordered myself a takeaway instead. When she asked why I hadn’t ordered her one, I told her that I didn’t know what her friends on Facebook would think she should have. She nodded, like that was a fair point, and went back on to her laptop.
5
Josh bounded downstairs and into the kitchen. He was still in his dressing gown but had the customary cables leading to his ears. Sometimes, I was sure he actually slept with them in. It made me think that one day, in an evolutionary move, babies would actually be born with earphones, ready to be plugged into any device.
‘Morning, all,’ he said as he sat down at the table and started buttering a piece of toast.
I raised my eyebrows at Chris before we both bid him a good morning.
‘What you listening to?’ asked Chris.
‘The Velvet Underground,’ said Josh.
‘I didn’t know you had any of their stuff on your iPod.’
‘I didn’t. Mum got it for me.’
The word ‘Mum’ hung heavily in the air. It wasn’t
‘Yeah, off and on,’ she said. ‘Only on a freelance basis these days.’
‘Who have you met?’ asked Josh.
Lydia smiled and flicked back her hair. ‘Loads of people you’ve probably never heard of.’
I looked at Josh’s face. It was the first time she’d said something that hadn’t gone down well.
‘I knew who Joe Strummer was,’ he said. ‘I know loads of stuff from the seventies and eighties. Dad’s still got all his LPs.’
Lydia bit her lip, looked out of the window for a moment. ‘Of course,’ she said, turning back to Josh. ‘I should have realised. Will Keith Richards do you for starters?’
Josh grinned. He had that childlike expression on his face again. She had redeemed herself and she was nowgoing to regale him with tales of music legends she had once lent a cigarette lighter to.
He was hers now. She might as well have offered him Turkish delight.
* * *
‘What was your mum like?’ asked Matilda when we got back home later.
Josh glanced up at Chris before answering. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘She knows a lot about music stuff.’
‘Is she going to come here?’ asked Matilda.
Josh didn’t answer.
‘Probably not, love,’ I said. ‘At least, not for now.’
‘Why? Don’t you like her?’
‘These things take time,’ I said. ‘Josh still doesn’t really know her. Now, why don’t you go and get your reading book out and I’ll be up to listen to you in a few minutes.’
Matilda groaned, simply because that was Josh’s reaction to homework, not because she actually disliked it, and disappeared upstairs.
‘So it went all right, then?’ Chris asked Josh.
‘I think so.’
‘Do you think you’re going to see her again?’
‘Yeah. She’s invited me around to her flat to see her record collection.’
‘Good. Well, I mean, if that’s what you want.’
‘Sounds like she’s got some really good stuff. Not that you haven’t, like.’
Chris nodded. ‘Sure. I understand.’
‘OK. Sorted,’ said Josh, before going up to his room.
‘Thanks,’ I said to Chris. I went to give him a hug.
He pulled away sharply.
‘What?’ I asked.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just I can smell her. I can actually smell her on you.’
She got to the point where she just said ‘like’ about everything, as if her entire life was played out on Facebook. So if she saw a pair of shoes she wanted in a shop, she’d say ‘like’ and she’d even do a little thumbs-up in the air.
And half the time at home she didn’t talk to me, she’d only communicate through Facebook. So if I said something funny, she wouldn’t laugh, she’d share it on Facebook with an LOL next to it. Even if I was sitting bloody next to her on the sofa.
Once, when we were supposed to be going out for a meal, she was late because she couldn’t decide what to wear. She’d shared photos of three outfits on Facebook and was waiting for her ‘friends’ to decide. By the time they’d decided I’d ordered myself a takeaway instead. When she asked why I hadn’t ordered her one, I told her that I didn’t know what her friends on Facebook would think she should have. She nodded, like that was a fair point, and went back on to her laptop.
5
Josh bounded downstairs and into the kitchen. He was still in his dressing gown but had the customary cables leading to his ears. Sometimes, I was sure he actually slept with them in. It made me think that one day, in an evolutionary move, babies would actually be born with earphones, ready to be plugged into any device.
‘Morning, all,’ he said as he sat down at the table and started buttering a piece of toast.
I raised my eyebrows at Chris before we both bid him a good morning.
‘What you listening to?’ asked Chris.
‘The Velvet Underground,’ said Josh.
‘I didn’t know you had any of their stuff on your iPod.’
‘I didn’t. Mum got it for me.’
The word ‘Mum’ hung heavily in the air. It wasn’t
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