‘I don’t forget,’ Amy said. ‘I promise I don’t forget that Dad belonged to you too. To you and Scott.’
‘Oh, pet,’ Margaret said in a whisper.
‘But I’m staying with Scott. I’m staying with Scott til I go – south again.’
With his free hand, Bernie Harrison gestured to attract the attention of the wine waiter.
‘Now, young lady. Young lady who knows her own mind. I suggest we now talk about music. Don’t you?’
‘Did he mean that?’ Amy said.
They were sitting on Scott’s black sofa, Amy curled up at one end with her feet under her.
‘What?’
‘Mr Harrison. Did he mean that about a folk-music degree?’
‘Yes.’
She was holding a mug of tea. She looked at him over the rim.
‘Do you know about it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why didn’t you say?’
‘You have to make up your own mind.’
‘But—’
‘I didn’t know how you’d feel,’ Scott said. ‘I didn’t know how we’d get on. I mean, al I know about being in your teens is what I knew when I was in them, but I might have got that al wrong, mightn’t I, because you’re a girl, not a boy. I might have thought I was helping you, which is what I wanted to do, and got that wrong too. I just had to wait, and give you time to think for yourself a bit. I couldn’t push you, could I?’
‘No,’ Amy said grateful y.
‘I didn’t know what sort of music you liked, even.’
Amy smiled.
‘Nor did I.’
He leaned forward.
‘Want to look?’
‘Look at what—’
‘This music degree.’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘
He stood up and went to retrieve his laptop from the kitchen counter. He felt very tired and very, almost unsteadily, happy. It would only be later, when he was alone and stretched out on the sofa, that he could think about the day, unpick it, unravel it, marvel at it. He carried the laptop back to the sofa and sat down close to Amy, so that she could see the screen.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘University of Newcastle. Here we go.’
She watched the screen flicker. ‘You interested in taking this further?’ Bernie Harrison had said at lunchtime. ‘Are you serious about this?’
‘There,’ Scott said.
Amy leaned forward.
‘Read it,’ Scott said. ‘Read it out loud.’
‘“Newcastle University,”’ Amy read, ‘“folk and traditional music. Bmus. Honours UCAS 4 years. Established in 2001, this is the first performance-based degree programme in folk and traditional music to be offered in England and Wales. The course explores folk music in its traditional and revived forms through practical work (composition as wel as performance) and academic work.”’
She stopped.
‘OK?’ Scott said.
‘I can’t believe it,’ Amy said.
‘Look,’ Scott said, ‘look. Teaching’s at the university and at the Sage. Folkworks is at the Sage.’
‘Folkworks?’
‘It’s a charity,’ Scott said. ‘It’s an educational charity for traditional music.’
‘Did – did you know about al this?’
‘Yes.’
‘And were you just waiting?’
‘Hoping,’ Scott said, ‘not waiting. Other people’s expectations give you a headache.’
Amy looked back at the screen.
‘I love this. I
