shirt. I noticed his thick, textured wedding ring. Rugged and solid, like him.
I nodded. “It all just got too much for me. I’ve been so paranoid about the press after that hideous picture of me they got right before the accident. And then when I started to cry like that—I suppose I assumed the worst, that you were going to expose me again—”
“What do you mean, again? That piece I did on you was very complimentary! ‘Blue Idea’s Green-Eyed Dear’—terrible headline, I know, but it wasn’t exactly an exposé.”
Toby sounded quite hurt, but when I looked at him, the corners of his mouth were twitching upward.
“No, not that you’d expose me again—actually, I quite liked your article, even though my eyes aren’t green at all, more swamp-colored really—but that I’d get exposed again. It’s all been so humiliating, and I’ve lost my job, and—oh God, I’m doing it again. Going on about me when you’ve got such awful problems.”
Toby grinned properly. “Well, as Bette Midler said, ‘That’s enough about me; what do you think of me?’ Actually, it’s quite refreshing to hear someone else’s woes. I get sick of talking about mine. Have you really lost your job? What do you do these days? I’m sure I’d know about it if you were in another band.”
Somewhat huffy that he wasn’t aware of my DJ incarnation, I told him about the New World breakfast show.
“Cool. A DJ! Yes, that figures. I bet you make a brilliant DJ. I don’t live in London anymore. We moved to the country so Kate could have a bigger studio—she’s a potter—and we don’t get New World out in Hampshire. Otherwise I’d definitely have tuned in to your show.”
“But I’m not a DJ anymore. At least—oh, well, it’s a long story. So why is Kate in hospital here if you live in Hampshire? ”
Toby took a deep breath, and I winced at the thought that I was being insensitive.
“Sorry. Listen, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.… ”
“It’s fine. It’s really quite nice talking to someone who isn’t upset about her, too. She had the accident here in London, one night—I didn’t even know she was in town. She’d told me that she was going to see someone about a commission in Portsmouth, but I suppose the meeting must have been moved up here. So when they phoned to say there’d been a crash, I didn’t believe it could be her.
“Anyway, they moved her to this hospital because it’s private—we’ve always had BUPA, thank God—and it has an ICU and plastic surgery. When she’s better she’s going to need some work on her face—she’s got a major facial fracture, running from her eyebrow down to her jaw. They’ll have to put in a titanium staple.… It seemed silly to have to move her again when this hospital’s so good, so Ruby and I have been staying with my sister Lulu in Fulham. That’s where Ruby is today.”
I nodded sympathetically, my face aching at the memory of my own recent plastic surgery. My injuries suddenly felt trivial in comparison—a few dozen stitches, a couple of strips of skin relocated from thigh to face. At least I had had no truck with titanium staples, whatever the hell they might be.
“So are you still a journalist?” I tried not to spit when I said the word.
Toby noticed and took me to task. “Hey, there’s a bit of a difference between a journalist on the Melody Maker and a tabloid hack, you know. Don’t tar us all with the same brush. Anyway, no, I’m not. I never made very much money from my writing, so I jacked it in and eventually set up my own Internet music company. It means I can work from home and be close to Ruby and Kate—well, Ruby, anyhow.… Kate hasn’t been around much recently—she’s taken on quite a few big commissions, and organizing those seems to take more time than actually making the pots. God knows what’s going to happen with them now.…”
He stood up abruptly. “I really should go and see Kate. I just
I nodded. “It all just got too much for me. I’ve been so paranoid about the press after that hideous picture of me they got right before the accident. And then when I started to cry like that—I suppose I assumed the worst, that you were going to expose me again—”
“What do you mean, again? That piece I did on you was very complimentary! ‘Blue Idea’s Green-Eyed Dear’—terrible headline, I know, but it wasn’t exactly an exposé.”
Toby sounded quite hurt, but when I looked at him, the corners of his mouth were twitching upward.
“No, not that you’d expose me again—actually, I quite liked your article, even though my eyes aren’t green at all, more swamp-colored really—but that I’d get exposed again. It’s all been so humiliating, and I’ve lost my job, and—oh God, I’m doing it again. Going on about me when you’ve got such awful problems.”
Toby grinned properly. “Well, as Bette Midler said, ‘That’s enough about me; what do you think of me?’ Actually, it’s quite refreshing to hear someone else’s woes. I get sick of talking about mine. Have you really lost your job? What do you do these days? I’m sure I’d know about it if you were in another band.”
Somewhat huffy that he wasn’t aware of my DJ incarnation, I told him about the New World breakfast show.
“Cool. A DJ! Yes, that figures. I bet you make a brilliant DJ. I don’t live in London anymore. We moved to the country so Kate could have a bigger studio—she’s a potter—and we don’t get New World out in Hampshire. Otherwise I’d definitely have tuned in to your show.”
“But I’m not a DJ anymore. At least—oh, well, it’s a long story. So why is Kate in hospital here if you live in Hampshire? ”
Toby took a deep breath, and I winced at the thought that I was being insensitive.
“Sorry. Listen, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.… ”
“It’s fine. It’s really quite nice talking to someone who isn’t upset about her, too. She had the accident here in London, one night—I didn’t even know she was in town. She’d told me that she was going to see someone about a commission in Portsmouth, but I suppose the meeting must have been moved up here. So when they phoned to say there’d been a crash, I didn’t believe it could be her.
“Anyway, they moved her to this hospital because it’s private—we’ve always had BUPA, thank God—and it has an ICU and plastic surgery. When she’s better she’s going to need some work on her face—she’s got a major facial fracture, running from her eyebrow down to her jaw. They’ll have to put in a titanium staple.… It seemed silly to have to move her again when this hospital’s so good, so Ruby and I have been staying with my sister Lulu in Fulham. That’s where Ruby is today.”
I nodded sympathetically, my face aching at the memory of my own recent plastic surgery. My injuries suddenly felt trivial in comparison—a few dozen stitches, a couple of strips of skin relocated from thigh to face. At least I had had no truck with titanium staples, whatever the hell they might be.
“So are you still a journalist?” I tried not to spit when I said the word.
Toby noticed and took me to task. “Hey, there’s a bit of a difference between a journalist on the Melody Maker and a tabloid hack, you know. Don’t tar us all with the same brush. Anyway, no, I’m not. I never made very much money from my writing, so I jacked it in and eventually set up my own Internet music company. It means I can work from home and be close to Ruby and Kate—well, Ruby, anyhow.… Kate hasn’t been around much recently—she’s taken on quite a few big commissions, and organizing those seems to take more time than actually making the pots. God knows what’s going to happen with them now.…”
He stood up abruptly. “I really should go and see Kate. I just
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