The Last Echo

by Anthony Burn

Romantic comedy: RRP £5.99 Our price: £4.79

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Paperback: 265 pages
ISBN: 978-0-9553403-1-4


Excerpt - Page 1 of 3

Christmas came and went in a haze. Claire and I spent Christmas day with her family and Boxing Day with mine, but although we had been inseparable, we had not been alone. By the end of the second day, my mind was screaming at the enforced civility. I just wanted to hug her and kiss her passionately, instead of the well-behaved pecks that polite company would allow. I could sense her feeling it too, as I squeezed her hand and tried to think, for the millionth time, of a way for us to be alone.

We had practised again on the Saturday before Christmas, even though we didn’t really need it, and I’d been especially pleased when Paul Way had accepted my invitation to come and watch. He knew, of course, that we had changed our style, but until then he hadn’t heard any of our new songs and it was extremely important to me that he liked them, given that he was, in a way, responsible for our new direction.

He turned up just as we started and, with relief, I could see that he was impressed, smiling as he nodded his head and tapped his feet, getting truly absorbed in the music. Even better, he didn’t leave after one song, plainly keen to hear the rest, and when Rachel screamed the introduction to ‘Dancing In The Flames’ he jumped to his feet, applauding and cheering as we played the first notes.

I looked pointedly at Jim, who shrugged and smiled sardonically and I made a mental note to be magnanimous in my victory.

Paul didn’t need to say anything when we had finished the songs; his face expressed more than he could ever put into words, but he came rushing to the stage as we were putting the guitars down.

“Brilliant, bloody brilliant,” he said. “I’d heard you were good, but I had no idea… just brilliant.”

We had all crowded around him, our egos glowing in the fervour of his praise, and thanked him as modestly as our excitement would let us. After a few more minutes of mutual backslapping, Paul became thoughtful.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about my guitar,” he said slowly, looking at me hesitantly.

My spirits sank. Surely he couldn’t want it back. Not right now. I had no idea where we could get Claire another one before the talent show. Couldn’t he at least wait until after then?

“I don’t know if you’ll mind,” he said, and then turning to Claire, he added, “but I’d like you to keep it. Call it a Christmas present. Is that okay?”

She answered by shrieking and hugging him, but considerately his arms went round her without making contact until he had sought my permission with his eyes.

I nodded and he hugged her back. Shaking my head in disbelief at his generosity I said, “Thanks mate,” and I could have kissed him too.

The other girls had been looking on happily at our exchanges and now they turned back to packing the equipment away. Paul offered to help, but I thanked him and said that we would leave it to our ‘roadies,’ bringing a chorus of derision from Jim, Gerry and Steve and laughter from the girls. He laughed and went to the door, but just before he left, I noticed a look pass between him and Louise and suddenly I knew that Susie’s days were numbered and that Andy was probably heading for a heartache.