Eventually they ran out of songs. At which point, Val asked: ‘Do you mind if I play you something that I wrote?’
Nobody minded. Everyone was eager to hear it.
‘It’s not the song I’m famous for. It’s a new one.’
‘Ooh, lovely,’ said Danielle.
‘It’s not very jolly,’ said Val. ‘In fact it’s quite sad and … sort of introspective.’
‘Stop apologizing and get on with it,’ said Roger.
‘All right.’
She smiled around at them all, nervously, suddenly remembering that she was addressing not just an audience of eleven friends (she thought of them as her friends now) but more than ten million television viewers. This was, in effect, the most important performance of her life. But she felt up to the task. If she could do that thing with the stick insect, after all, she could do pretty much anything. And she knew this song intimately: it was part of her body, by now. Singing it to these people would be as natural as drawing breath.
The fingers of her left hand arranged themselves to form the first chord — an F major seven, with an open A-string as the bass note — and with the thumb of her right hand she struck the six strings of the guitar with firm, tender authority.
Watch the water take me home, absence makes me fonder
Choose a path where you can go, days are getting longer
She knew at once that she had caught their attention. A great stillness had descended on the camp. The music brought everything to a halt: the passage of time was suspended. Val reached for the highest note in the melody, found it easily.
Still I try to do my best but I need your breath
As the moonshine controls the water, I will sink and swim
The two chords underpinning the word ‘swim’ were a D minor and then a darker and more ambiguous F minor sixth. Val had been singing without thinking until this point, vocalizing the words in a semi-automatic state, but with the next lines, she realized that she could almost be reflecting on her current situation:
Turn around and look at me, in many ways I’m stronger
Choose a path and set me free, to beyond and yonder
It was true: this experience had made her stronger. Started to restore her confidence, her confidence which had been shattered over the last few years by a series of disappointments in her career and her personal life. That confidence was expressing itself, now, through the movement of her fingers on the strings of the guitar, the strength of her voice ringing out through the attentive night air. Once again it felt — at last — that she was doing what she was born to do.
The song was over. There was silence around the fire for a few moments, except for the crackling of the embers. Then the eleven campmates began to applaud, slowly and feelingly, and when the applause had died down, they hugged Val, and kissed her, and told her how beautiful the song was, and asked if they could buy it and when she was going to record it, and she could not keep herself from crying and telling them, truthfully, that this was one of the happiest moments of her life.
*
Alison did not think that she could bear to watch another episode of the programme by herself, in that empty living room. Remembering Selena’s invitation to come over for a family dinner whenever she felt like it, she phoned and asked if she could drop by and watch the show with them that night.
‘’Course you can,’ said Selena. ‘Come round about seven. We’ll have something to eat first.’
Just as Selena had promised, the atmosphere in her house was cheerful and raucous, with everybody crowding into the kitchen to help her mother with the cooking, apart from her father Sam, who sat at the kitchen table reading the Evening Mail, and her brother Navaro, who was in the living room, bent over his Nintendo DS, which was emitting a constant series of pops and beeps.
There was the latest edition of some celebrity gossip magazine on the kitchen counter, and Alison picked it up, recognizing the two faces on the cover: ‘PETE AND DANIELLE’, the headline said. ‘GET THE LOWDOWN ON THE HOTTEST JUNGLE ROMANCE EVER.’ She flicked through to the relevant article.
‘I already read that,’ said Ashley, Selena’s mother. ‘They don’t mention your mom. I suppose they printed it before she went on the programme.’
‘Probably a good thing,’ said Alison, putting it back on the counter after a half-hearted glance. ‘She doesn’t seem to be doing herself any favours out there.’
‘I think your mom’s doing just fine,’ said Ashley, who was stirring a pot filled with some peppery, aromatic fish stew. ‘Takes guts to go out there and do what she’s doing. I hope you’re proud of her.’
Over dinner they could hardly avoid talking more about Val and her Australian adventure. Selena and her family had not been following the online response so they had no idea how vitriolic most of the reactions had been. They thought that Val had been rather harsh to Danielle the night before, but apart from that their main complaint was that she was being given so little airtime. Alison was relieved, and reminded herself that not everybody spent hours poring over the internet. Most of the population had better things to do with their time. So perhaps all was not lost yet, for her mother. Sam asked her, straight out, how much Val was being paid for her participation, and although his wife scolded him for being so rude, Alison saw no reason why she shouldn’t tell them: it was twenty thousand pounds.
‘Well,’ said Ashley, ‘I thought it would be more than that, actually. And what’s she going to spend it on? I hope she’s going to take you somewhere nice at Christmas. Maybe buy you a few nice things to wear as well.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Alison. ‘She’ll probably spend a lot of it on studio time.’
‘She deserves another hit record, that’s for sure. I really loved the last one. She’s a very talented lady, your mom. And don’t mind my husband, with his nosy questions. He’s never had any manners.’
‘That’s all right,’ said Alison. ‘I don’t mind answering questions.’
‘I’ve got one,’ said Malikah, one of Selena’s younger sisters. ‘Can I feel your false leg?’
At nine o’clock, they sat down together to watch the programme. Alison was nervous, but this time it wasn’t too much of an ordeaclass="underline" partly because Selena’s family kept up such a lively running commentary, and partly because her mother was hardly in this episode at all. There was quite a jolly scene in the last five minutes, when somebody brought a guitar into camp and Pete and Danielle did an entertainingly terrible performance of ‘Yellow Submarine’. Val could be seen singing along with the chorus: she was smiling and looked like she was having a good time. Apart from that, she was barely even glimpsed on screen.
‘Ah, that was funny,’ said Ashley, muting the television when the news came on. ‘Really, that silly girl couldn’t sing to save her life.’
‘Fuck me, she’s fit though,’ said Navaro. They were practically the first words he’d spoken that evening.
‘You mind your language, mister,’ Ashley said. Then, turning to Alison: ‘I wonder why they didn’t give your mom the guitar to play? That would have been nice.’