Chapter 41: Alabama Sweetheart

I didn’t go into any detail about my last day with Hannah before Christmas. It didn’t feel right to do so. That was our day together—a special day that I didn’t want to share with anyone else.

The same applies to my last day with Carly. It’s between me and her. I don’t want to share it. Not in any detail, at least. It doesn’t feel right to do that.

We went places. We did things. We feasted. We drank. The details are not important. What matters is that we spent nearly every second of the day together. We were only apart when one of us needed to visit the bathroom, and that only happened twice.

From the moment I awoke with Carly lying on my chest to when we went back to bed that evening, we were together.

Our last full day together.

And all day long, we were in almost constant physical contact—whether holding hands, sitting and hugging, or walking arm in arm.

And at times, we were far more intimate than that.

It was our day. Our last day. But we didn’t talk about that.

We didn’t talk about what would happen the next day. Didn’t talk about what time the flight was, or how she was getting to the airport, or how long the flight was or what time she would arrive in Los Angeles.

It felt as if we were pretending it wasn’t going to happen.

Don’t talk about it. Try not to think about it. Live in the moment. Concentrate on now.

In her Alt Cap lecture, Lexi stated that society was heading for an iceberg and not even attempting to avoid it.

Well, so were we.

Our iceberg was Carly’s impending departure.

And we knew it was unavoidable.

And thinking about it was unavoidable, too.

It was on my mind when we visited the jewellers, and I bought her two sets of necklaces and earrings—one sapphire and diamond to match her eyes, and one ruby and diamond, the colour of love. Neither set was as expensive or as nice as those I’d bought her in Covent Garden or Birmingham’s Jewellery Quarter, but that wasn’t the point. They were likely the last gifts I’d ever buy her, and she promised to cherish them and ensure she always wore one of the now four sets I’d bought her.

I jokingly suggested I buy her three more sets so that she’d have one for every day of the week. She laughed and told me not to be silly, but I wasn’t really joking—had she said yes, I would have happily bought them.

Late in the afternoon, as we sat on a bench on the seafront watching the sun set over the sea, Carly’s phone rang.

“I have to answer it,” she said without looking at her phone. “It’s Harry’s ringtone.”

I nodded and gave her a tight smile. I didn’t really appreciate the interruption.

“Hi Harry,” she said, after sliding her finger across the screen and putting the call on speaker.

“Kayla, are you busy? Can you spare me ten minutes at the studio?”

“Why? Is there a problem? Do you need me to record something else?”

“No, no problem, at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.” He paused, then with a hint of relish in his voice, he said, “It’s done, Kayla. It’s ready. I’ve completed the final mix. I thought you might like a copy to listen to at your leisure.”

“It’s ready?” I asked. “I thought you needed more time?”

“Oh, hi Muse. I thought I would, too, but circumstances changed. I’ll explain when you get here. Assuming you’re coming.”

“Hell, yeah, we’re coming!” Carly said, looking at me with fire in her eyes. “Aren’t we? Do you mind?”

I grinned. “Why would I mind? And why are we wasting time sitting here talking about it? Let’s get back to the car.”

“Excellent,” Harry said. “See you soon.”

“Hi, Kayla. Hi, Paul,” Cathy said as we entered the reception. “Harry’s waiting for you in the Conference Room.”

I arched an eyebrow. “There’s a Conference Room?”

I’d only ever been in the Control Room of the studio Carly was recording in.

Carly shook her head and slapped my arm. Then grinned and said, “If you really are buying into this place, you should probably take the time to look around it properly.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I probably should.”

“Come on. I know where it is.”

Rather than using the door next to the reception desk leading to the studios, Carly headed for the door on the far wall from the entrance. This opened onto another corridor featuring two doors on either side and one at the end.

“That’s Harry’s office,” Carly said, nodding towards the door on our right as we walked past. “And Ellie’s,’ she added, pointing to the door directly opposite. Both doors were shut, but through the window in each, I could make out a standard office layout inside, complete with a desk and monitor, a few chairs, and some filing cabinets.

The next two doors were both open. The one on the left led to a small kitchen, while the one on the right appeared to be a storeroom.

The door at the end was also propped open. This was the Conference Room—a large space featuring an oblong table surrounded by chairs. It reminded me of the meeting rooms at the JMS Law office building. Harry and Ellie were both waiting inside and looked rather pleased with themselves.

‘Alabama Sweetheart’ was already playing from a large stereo on a small table in the corner of the room.

“You didn’t wait for us?” Kayla said, mock hurt in her voice, but with a big smile on her face.

“Wait?” Ellie said, grinning. “We’ve been playing it on repeat since burning the first CD about two hours ago. We’ve played both CDs all the way through once already!”