Pretenders,’ said Josh.
I managed a smile. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d know that one. My era, really.’
‘She’s class,’ said Josh.
‘You know what?’ I said. ‘Your mum looks a bit like her. Dark hair and eyes, dead slim.’
Josh nodded. I let go of him.
He sat and thought for a bit. ‘Dad doesn’t want me to see her, does he? That’s why he got you to talk to me.’
‘Your father wants what’s best for you. He’s a bit shaken up, that’s all. He wasn’t expecting her to turn up like that.’
‘And what about you?’ asked Josh. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think it should be up to you. And I’ll understand ifyou do want to see her and I’ll understand if you don’t. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you. We both will.’
Josh put his head down and sighed. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘All these years it’s been like she never really existed. It’s so weird to think I could get to know her. I’m not sure if I want to, though.’
‘Take some time, then. You don’t have to make your mind up straight away. See how you feel in a few days.’
Josh nodded.
I got up to put the kettle on. ‘Are you going to open it, then?’ I asked.
‘Oh,’ he said, turning back to the present on the table. ‘Yeah, I guess so.’
He picked it up and unpicked the tape from one end, sliding the paper off the large cardboard box beneath. It was a widescreen television box. For a moment I thought that’s what she’d got him. I was wondering where the hell we were going to put it. And then he opened the box and took something out and I saw that it wasn’t a TV at all. It was a red guitar. An electric one. Like the one we’d got him, only better.
‘Jeez,’ said Josh. ‘Look at this.’
He pointed to a scrawled signature in black marker pen on the front. Above it, I could just make out ‘To Josh, London’s Calling!’ followed by a signature.
‘It’s Joe Strummer’s guitar,’ said Josh, his mouth gaping open. ‘She’s given me Joe Strummer’s fucking Fender Telecaster.’
For once I ignored the language. In the circumstances itwas probably justified. She’d managed to give him the one thing which would now make it very hard for Josh not to want to meet her.
‘I don’t get it,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘How could she have got this?’
‘Your dad said she used to work in music promotion. One of the big record labels, I think.’
I could almost hear the cogs going round in Josh’s head.
‘She got him to sign it for me,’ he said. ‘Even though she hadn’t seen me since she left. She still got him to sign it for me.’
I nodded and smiled. Realising at that point that Josh was lost to her. And there was nothing we could do about it.
* * *
Josh was upstairs in his room playing the guitar when Chris and Matilda came home. Tom was up there with him. Josh must have texted him. He’d come round pretty sharpish.
It was Matilda who realised first. She never missed a thing. Her brow furrowed as she looked at Josh’s guitar from us, which was lying on the sofa.
Her head spun round, the ends of her still-wet hair flicking water as she did so. ‘What’s he playing?’ she asked. ‘That’s not his guitar.’
‘No. It’s a different one. He’s playing it with Tom.’
‘So did Tom bring it? Has he got one too?’
I hesitated. Chris looked at me. He twigged before I said anything. I could see it in the way his eyes darkened.
‘Er, no. It’s his. It was the present the lady brought round yesterday.’
‘So he’s got two guitars? Can I have one, then? Or just borrow his when he’s playing the new one?’
‘Maybe ask him nicely, later, if you can have a quick turn.’
‘I want to ask him now.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Grandma’s coming round soon. Why don’t you put on a DVD while I finish cooking?’
She ran over to the TV without another word. Chris followed me into the kitchen, shutting the door behind us.
‘Great,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I