As soon as he says it, everything feels so now. Like a spell has been cast between them, her body tingles from head to toe, feeling so alive yet faint. She has never felt this way around anyone before, in her rare experiences with people; even she knows this isn’t normal. It’s something special.
He looks away and breaks the spell. She tries to hide her disappointment.
‘Everybody loved you last night,’ he says, almost businesslike, matter-of-fact. She’s lost him again, to whatever goes on inside his head when he gets that intense distant look. ‘They think you’ve landed here from another planet. They’ve never seen such a gift.’
She smiles her thanks. ‘It is your mother who is gifted.’ She thinks of Marie, sitting at the harp, sitting so beautifully straight at the harp, and she hears the song before she realises she’s making the sound again.
‘Did you like being on stage?’ he asks her, captivated.
She can tell he has something on his mind. Like last night when he was angry with her because he found her with his brother. She has never met someone like him who seems to have so much going on in their head that isn’t spoken. It’s all in his eyes and his forehead. The thoughts seem to take shape and move around in his brow, knots of thoughts. She wishes they’d break free of his skin so she could see what they are for herself. She wants to place her hands on his forehead and say Stop. Smooth it down, give him peace. Better yet, touch her lips to his frown. He’s uncomfortable now, something has shifted in him so quickly, going from being relaxed to tense in a matter of a few seconds.
He rubs his jaw. She mimics the sound. She loves that sound. Suddenly the bubbling thoughts are gone and the beautiful straight teeth are grinning at her instead. That’s better.
‘That’s what that sound was you made earlier,’ he says, happy to have placed it, perhaps happy that it’s his sound.
Laura would make that sound all day if it meant he’d smile at her like that all the time. But it wouldn’t work, he’d grow tired of the sound, the spark would eventually wear off, she would have to keep finding new ones and this new world was ripe with new sounds for her. Sometimes too many; it was starting to give her a headache trying to process them all. She was eager at first to hear them, understand them, but then as they moved from Macroom to Galway the sounds intensified. Particularly last night. She felt exhausted by the interaction and she looks forward to returning to Cork. Wherever it is she’ll be staying, at least she’ll be spending time on the mountain, surrounded by familiar sounds.
Though no matter how many times people had sung their songs last night, the spark had never seemed to wear off them. She was hearing them for the first time and it was as though they were performing for the first time. Especially Solomon’s performance. He had brought the room alive. Laura’s heart had been in her throat the entire time at the sound of his singing voice, of the twenty things that made him so happy at seventeen.
Solomon’s concern has returned and she senses something. ‘The reason I ask whether you enjoyed performing last night is because Bo called me last night.’
Bo coming into their conversation has altered everything, the space widens between them. Who made that happen, her or him? She looks down at the sand, sees that her feet have moved from her footprints, as have his. They both have stepped away from each other.
‘She had a change of plan,’ he says, sounding strained, forced.
Laura’s heart thuds, hoping Bo won’t pull the plug on the documentary. She doesn’t care in the slightest about it, but she needs it. It’s the only bridge off her island. If she doesn’t have them, she doesn’t know what will become of her life.
‘She wants us to go to Dublin tonight. She’s lined up some interviews for the documentary there.’
Laura feels such relief that it’s still going ahead that she doesn’t care about not returning to her home. She tries to fight the grin from her face.
‘And she has a friend’ – his face darkens and his forehead bubbles – ‘who has a TV talent show, StarrQuest. They would like you to go on the show.’
He seems so conflicted, she’s unsure. The signal to understanding him is coming and going. He keeps talking while she tries to figure him out.
‘Bo showed footage of you to these TV people. Remember the coffee machine at breakfast yesterday?’
Laura makes the sound instantly as she recalls it.
‘Yeah, that one.’ His smile is tight.
‘They like that sound?’ She makes the sound again, listening to herself more carefully to see what was so special about it.
‘It’s unique, Laura. Nobody else makes that sound. Nothing other than… the coffee machine.’
‘Then that coffee machine would have a big chance of winning,’ she says, trying to ease his discomfort.
He laughs loudly and her joke seems to do what was intended.
‘I’ve heard about StarrQuest,’ she says. ‘I’ve read enough magazines to know who the winners are of every single reality TV show going, and heard about them and their songs on the radio. What do you think of me doing it?’
‘I’ll be honest…’ He puts his hands to his face.
She makes the stubble rubbing sound and he stops, stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
‘When Bo told me about it last night, I was not happy. I thought it was a bad idea. But then I saw you perform, I saw the looks on people’s faces. They were captivated. Maybe it’s wrong to deprive people of that experience, this experience of you that I’m having. Maybe I didn’t want to share you. But the documentary would have done that anyway. Maybe it’s wrong to deprive you of that experience, of that adulation, that celebration of your skills.’
She feels her cheeks glow pink because of his words. He didn’t want to share her. But she’s confused. ‘My skills?’
He’s not sure how to broach the sounds that she makes. He’s not even sure if she’s aware she makes them half the time.
‘Like what you did last night at the party. Did you enjoy it?’
She thinks of the serenity she felt in his parents’ home. The calm as she recalled the harp strings, the shared energy in the atmosphere. The explosive reaction gave her a fright, but she wasn’t expecting it. She felt alone, which she likes, but as though she was sharing being alone with others.
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘I did like it.’
He takes this in. He seems surprised by the reaction, perhaps disappointed. She’s confused. He’s not making this easy for her. He’s asking her to do something that she’s not entirely sure he wants her to do.
‘Why would you want me to do this show, exactly?’ she asks.
‘It’s not my idea,’ he says quickly. ‘It’s Bo’s idea. Her reasoning is that it would be good for the documentary. If you have a profile, then it will help the success of the documentary.’
Laura cannot lose doing the documentary. Without the documentary crew, she has nobody, she needs to cling to them as she would a life raft.
‘Doing the talent show to help the documentary seems like a great idea of Bo’s,’ she says.
He nods. ‘I suppose it is.’
She smiles. ‘You don’t always like Bo’s ideas.’
He looks relieved to be able to tell the truth. ‘No, I don’t. And, Laura, to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure about this one. This is completely your decision.’
‘What do you think of this talent show?’ she asks.
He screws his face up, squeezes his eyes shut while thinking about an answer. ‘I used to work on it,’ he says. ‘Sound.’
‘That’s not an answer.’
‘Nothing gets past you.’ He smiles. ‘It’s a risk. You could do the audition and not get through to the next round. The crowd could love you, the crowd could for some unknown reason take a dislike to you. You could audition and be booed off the stage. You could audition and possibly win. If that happens, your life could go in a myriad of directions. It depends on what you want to do with your life.’
‘And if I don’t win?’
He thinks about it. ‘You’ll be forgotten almost immediately.’
She gives it careful thought. Directions, Laura thinks. Options. Different directions sound good because she can’t go back. If she makes a fool of herself she’ll be forgotten, that’s not so bad. That’s almost a perk.
‘I’ll do it,’ she says firmly, to Solomon’s surprise.
From one bridge to another.
That afternoon, when Solomon’s brothers have risen from their beds and come to life, they make their way to a clay pigeon shooting range nearby. Competition is the name of the game and always has been between the siblings and their dad, Cara excluded; she chooses to stay home and catch up with her mother. A keen poker player, Finbar always has his eye on winning and has instilled this into his children. Every year they go hunting; pheasant, woodcock, pigeon, game, whatever is available, and the amount they hit is the mark of the man. As it’s out of season for bird hunting, they have to settle for clay pigeon shooting, and already Finbar has devised a method of scorekeeping and rules.
Solomon and Laura plan to follow the others in Solomon’s car, but as they are moving out, the car door opens and Rory jumps in. Solomon feels rage but buries it. Laura’s eyes light up and she politely giggles away at the ridiculous jokes and stories Rory tells on the way in. Solomon tries to compose himself while ignoring most of the things his brother says, but he’s unable to ignore how animated Laura has become in Rory’s company.
Laura walks with Rory to the shooting range, which consists of a series of wooden cabins in a row. Solomon stays protectively beside her, though not too close. He’s not sure whether she wants him to leave but he chooses to stay regardless. Five cabins, all holding groups of six, are full. A weekend of good summer weather has brought the groups out.
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