Just Carly
Copyright© 2026 by Marc Nobbs
Chapter 5: London
Early Early Breakfast
Saturday, January 11 2014 · 7:38am · London · Private
Paul’s getting the ten-thirty train back to Westmouth. We worked it out over breakfast: there’s no sense in him waiting around while I’m on a children’s show and then making the journey separately anyway.
He’s going to pick me up from Chloë’s at six tonight and take me out to meet his friends. Some of them were at the party, but that was different. I was working, everyone was dressed up, and we hardly spoke. Tonight I’ll be the girl Paul brings along.
I’m delighted and I’m terrified.
He just stole a piece of toast from my plate. Apparently I’m still capable of being cross with him about something.
I Can Hear Them Through The Wall
Saturday, January 11 2014 · 9:13am · London · Private
I opened the show with “Not Invisible.” Jamie, one of the hosts, called it the song that made me huge in America, which made me feel taller than I am for approximately three seconds. Tessa, the other host, called me beautiful and amazing.
The stage was surrounded by children. They screamed when I came out, and kept screaming all the way through the song. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. One little girl near the front looked absolutely furious with me for pausing to let the music play between verses.
I’m backstage now. Jamie and Tessa are doing something with a bucket, a timer and two boys dressed as astronauts. Nobody has explained why. I think that may be the point.
Interviewed By A Dog
Saturday, January 11 2014 · 9:43am · London · Private
Biscuit is blue, sits behind a desk and is the most serious interviewer I’ve met in England or anywhere else.
I could see the puppeteer crouched behind him from where I was sitting. The man’s face never moved while Biscuit asked whether my guitar needed its own passport. Then Biscuit wanted to know if I’d ever considered writing a song for dogs, and whether I would accept payment in biscuits.
I laughed so hard Tessa had to ask me the next question twice and then I said it depended on the biscuits.
Biscuit looked disappointed in my professionalism.
He says I can come back when I’ve written his song.
Phone-In Report
Saturday, January 11 2014 · 10:09am · London · Private
A boy asked whether people in Alabama have to learn English at school like they do in France. A girl wanted to know if I could play guitar wearing mittens. Somebody asked if Pappy was really called Pappy or if I’d made that up for television.
That one I could answer. He’d have enjoyed it too.
Meanwhile Jamie has lost a contest to a child half his size, Tessa has glitter in her hair, and a large inflatable cow has been in the background of two completely unrelated segments.
I have one song left to sing. Biscuit has offered to introduce me, provided I say he’s my favourite host. I said I’d think about it.
That Was Lovely, Insane But Lovely
Saturday, January 11 2014 · 10:46am · London · Private
I sang “A Woman’s Work” to close the show. The children went quiet for it. After all the shouting and laughing this morning, that surprised me.
When I finished, they cheered, and the little girl who looked furious during “Not Invisible” gave me two thumbs up. I’m taking that as a good review.
Biscuit introduced me as his future songwriting partner. Jamie and Tessa were wonderful, even when I couldn’t keep up with what was happening. I’ve got glitter on one sleeve and no idea how it got there.
Now I need to change, find Glenn and get to Westmouth.
Six o’clock feels a long way away.
Heading For The Coast
Saturday, January 11 2014 · 1:37pm · London · Private
I’m in the same car that brought me from Heathrow on Tuesday. Same driver, too. He remembered me, although I suppose being collected at an airport with a guitar makes you fairly easy to remember.
This time I’m watching England in daylight. We’ve left London behind, and I keep looking up from my phone because I don’t want to miss the countryside as we speed past it on the highway.
Glenn’s beside me, catching up on messages. My guitar is safe. The suitcase is in the back. Paul’s in Westmouth already, or almost there, and at six he’s coming to get me.
I’ve checked the time three times while writing that sentence.
What am I going to wear?
I’ve announced the album.
I tweeted a screenshot of my notes app. Glenn checked it before I hit send. It said that I’m staying in England for a little while, moving to a town on the south coast, and making my third album with Harry and Ellie. I didn’t say where I’ll be living. People have tried guessing anyway. Quite a few have asked if the untidy folder of half-finished songs is real. Some have asked to see it. Everyone is very excited.