Loud Like Love

Chapter Eleven: Exit Wounds

Nick came home after an early morning shift and picked up the post on the mat. It was a Friday, and Zoë had come home from Nottingham late the night before. Nick knew, because he'd had to switch on some music to mute out the sound of her and Richard having sex in the master bedroom. Not that he begrudged them this. They only saw each other on the weekends now, after all.

Now he found Zoë in the kitchen in her dressing gown, with some cereal and a cup of tea. 'There's a letter here addressed to Mum,' he said, putting down the mail on the kitchen table. 'Do we open that?'

Zoë nodded and picked up the letter. 'Yeah. Not sure what it could be, though. Her mail generally gets sent to Aunt Karen . . .' She opened it. Nick went to the fridge and poured himself some orange juice.

His sister scanned the page. 'It's . . . This is from Dad's sister. Maria.'

Nick nearly spat out his juice. 'Wait, what? She hasn't been in touch in years, right?'

Zoë shook her head. 'She really hasn't. She says . . . She's back in England. She'd like to visit. She's spending Christmas at Dad's and is wondering if she could come stay with us for a few days before that.'

'Huh.' Nick sat down and Zoë passed him the letter. 'She and Dad grew up in this house, didn't they?'

She nodded. 'Yeah. Dad moved, so Mum got it in the divorce.'

'There's a phone number here. Should we ring her?'

'Yeah. I'll do it this afternoon.' She smiled at Nick. 'Anyway, how was work?'

* * *

'So, do you think it's ready?' Matt unplugged his bass and replaced it into its bag.

Nick's telecaster was already safely in its case, and he sighed. 'Yeah. I think it is. Needs a title, though. I mean, we can't just call it The Break-Up Song. Any thoughts?'

Stuart pursed his lips. 'Well, there's something to be said for untitled songs. There's a long tradition for tracks called Untitled. And Duke Ellington had his T.G.T.T. You know, Too Good To Title.'

'Kind of a cop-out, isn't it?' said Nick, frowning.

'How about Nothing?' said Matt.

'What? Don't call it anything?'

'No, call it Nothing. That's the title. Nothing. Fits with the theme, and the word shows up in a few prominent places, too.'

'That . . . works.' Stuart sounded surprised. 'That works really well, actually. What do you think, Nick?'

'Yeah. That's not bad. Let's go with it.'

Nick and Matt took the bus back to Windfield Green together as usual.

'Less than a week to go,' said Matt. 'You really sure you're ready to play that song?'

Nick took a breath. 'Yeah. It's time. I can't keep being afraid of playing it. You guys are right, it's the best thing I've ever written. It deserves to be played.'

They sat in silence for a while, before Matt asked, 'So, have you talked to Brian at all?'

Nick shook his head. 'No, not since I went to see him. He said he wanted to come to the gig, though. So he might be there. It . . . It was a good ending. You know?'

Matt nodded. 'Yeah, he's good at that. Proud of you, though. For making the right decision.'

Nick scoffed. 'For the first time in my life. About time I got something right.'