“You can!”
“I can’t!
“Josh, listen to me!” I shout in his ear. “Sometimes you just have to face your fears. Otherwise you’ll never know what could have been.”
The music crashes to an end and the crowd cheers and hollers.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I hear Michael say over the microphone, sounding slightly breathless, “tonight I want to welcome on stage with me a very special guest—”
“Shit! I can’t do it!” shouts Josh, grabbing at his hair.
“—he’s a young, talented singer and musician—”
“Listen!” I shout, grabbing Josh by the shoulders, deciding to go out on a limb. “I’m in love with Libby. I have been for ages, and I think perhaps you already know that. It seems like everyone knows that. But I’ve been standing in the shadows, too scared to do anything about it. I’m still scared. I’m terrified. But I’m gonna tell her everything. Tonight. And you’re gonna get up on that stage, okay? Because if we don’t do these things, neither of us will ever know how good it might have been.”
He stares at me, stunned. And then a smile creeps across his lips.
“I knew it!” he shouts.
I thrust my hand out.
“Do we have a deal?”
For a moment he hesitates.
“—please welcome on stage—”
“Deal!” he shouts, grabbing my hand.
I pull him in for a squeeze.
“—Josh Lewis! Where are you, Josh? Get yourself up here!”
“Go!” I yell, shoving him in the general direction of the stage.
There are moments in life when you can barely breathe, and it’s not because you’re scared or stressed or believe you don’t even deserve the air in your lungs. It’s because the moment is so special you don’t want to disturb it with even the slightest movement.
I gaze at my best friend and my son on the stage, framed by strings of white lights, playing guitar and singing together, and I’m blown away. They sound so good. They look so good; smiling at each other as they belt out the lyrics, nerves overcome, lost in the beat of the music, spurred on by the love of the crowd.
For a moment I can’t believe how far we’ve come, any of us. All the doubts and fears about whether I’ve been a good enough dad, they all disintegrate in that moment. Because he’s amazing. He’s flawed and imperfect and bloody annoying just like we all are, but he’s also incredible. Bright, kind, funny, talented… I couldn’t want for anything more. And it’s not all down to me, of course. It’s down to a whole mixture of things. But I’m in there, a huge part of it, and whatever I did, there’s no way it could have been wrong. Because just look at him now.
As their second song ends, Michael grabs Josh’s arm, holds it high in the air and commands the crowd to give it up. As his new fans whistle and applaud, Josh glows with happiness, and I know that if this is the route he wants to take in life, then I’ll support him all the way. For too long I’ve stifled him in my bid to protect him. But the fact is you can’t stop them falling. All you can do is offer a soft place to land if they do.
As soon as he jumps off stage, I make a move towards him, but his friends get in there first, enveloping him in a giant hug. I see Sam and Alex ruffling his hair and patting him on the back, Chloe squeezing him tight and kissing him on the cheek. He grins shyly, modestly enjoying their praise, that cocky charade melted away. But it’s also clear he’s got somewhere else to be. He extricates himself from the group, stepping towards Becky, who’s waiting patiently, the outsider. She wraps her arms around his neck and he kisses her for what seems like an unfeasibly long time while his friends return to their banter and chat.
I decide to leave Josh to his friends and his new girlfriend. As the music starts up again, I begin weaving my way back through the crowd, when suddenly I’m grabbed from behind, arms wrapping themselves around my shoulders with such strength I can’t believe this is my child. I turn and pull him in for a hug.
“You were amazing!” I shout in his ear. “I am so proud of you!”
“You were right!” he yells above the music, putting his arm around my neck and pulling me down slightly – but only slightly – to his height. “It was so worth taking the risk! Now it’s your turn!”
He slaps me on the arm and winks at me – actually winks at me, the cheeky git! – before rushing away, and for a second I catch a glimpse of the relationship we’ll have in the not-so-distant future, when my son is more of a man than a boy.
I search the crowd, knowing what I have to do next. Butterflies rise in my stomach, but I feel stronger, more resolute than ever before. Because they were wrong – my mum, Harmonie, the teachers – all the people that said I wasn’t good enough to be with her, raise a child, pass my exams – all the people who doubted me. Because I am good enough, and I always was.
Just then I feel a warm hand grasp my wrist and just as quickly let go. I turn and see Libby stepping away, beckoning me out of the crowd. I follow her through the rocking, jigging bodies, towards the steps that lead down to the canal.
Once on the towpath, she strides quickly, in silence. I keep up with her, waiting for her to stop and turn around. The thud of the music recedes, the bright chaos of the Canal House left behind. Away from the heat of the crowd, the night air feels chill against my bare arms. We pass narrowboats, one after the other, the windows dark, most of the residents out enjoying the
