Page 10 of Escape to the Country

Before they signed, Sam sat down with Tom one day to ask whether he wanted to use his own name. Up until that time, Tom had always wanted to be known as himself. But he had begun to have a few weird phone calls from overeager fans and journalists and had quickly concluded that a pseudonym would be better. Suddenly he was craving anonymity.

Hence Tommy King was born.

That had been over eight years ago. Fame and fortune had arrived quickly. His first album had won the prestigious Mercury Prize and had gone double platinum. His status in the music world increased with the second album, which garnered him a Brit Award and sold over five million copies. His third album finally gave him his much yearned for Grammy and he broke America, holding a position in the Billboard Top Five for over twenty weeks.

With over thirty million album sales in total so far and a couple of sell-out worldwide tours, Tom had been given financial security beyond his wildest dreams. With the help of Sam and a financial advisor, he purchased his flat in an expensive London neighbourhood. Wise investments meant that he would never feel the sharp pang of starvation or a lack of roof over his head ever again.

But suddenly he was tired and desperate to break free of the shackles of fame.

Being a global superstar meant that he had to carry on courting the media, going onto chat shows and talking about himself. His natural instinct was to hide away from the spotlight. All he ever wanted was to just play his music. The lack of privacy was draining.

He didn’t have time to think these days.

Didn’t have time to rest.

Didn’t have time to grieve.

The pain hit him hard over and over. He missed his beloved Gran. She had been the only one who had ever truly cared about him. If she had been around, she would have been fretting about him ending up in hospital. As always, she would have dispensed wise words which would have helped. But now she was gone and he felt horribly alone.

Sam had been studying his friend for a couple of silent minutes.

‘Tell you what, why don’t you come and stay with us for a week or so?’ he said eventually. ‘Have a break from everything here in town. It’s not like we haven’t got the room.’

Out of the blue, Sam had suddenly declared six months previously that his family belonged to a long line of English earls, with an impressive ancestral home deep in the English countryside. Sam and his fiancée Annie had spent most of the winter and spring bringing the crumbling Willow Tree Hall back into the twenty-first century.

Sam was a good guy, who Tom trusted implicitly, both as a manager and a close friend. And that was rare for someone who didn’t trust anyone. With good reason, he knew from bitter experience.

But Tom liked his independence. He had carefully cultivated his self-reliance. The protective shield that helped him cope with the endless rejections over his life.

He glanced at his bandaged foot and almost laughed. Was he really coping that well?

Adding to the strain, he knew that every time he stepped out of line, there was somebody standing nearby to make a headline about it.

‘Come on,’ urged Sam. ‘It’ll be good for you.’

Tom wasn’t so sure. He cherished his privacy. He didn’t like being around too many people. It was easier to keep everyone out than let anyone in. That way he couldn’t be let down again.

However, he was surprised to find himself tempted by his friend’s proposition. He had never been to Willow Tree Hall but understood the place to be in the middle of nowhere. The peace was tempting for a week or so.

Torn between wanting to keep his privacy and not wanting to upset Sam, in the end Tom nodded his agreement.

Sam looked delighted. ‘That’s great. You can recharge your batteries at Willow Tree Hall. And who knows? Maybe you’ll get that album of yours finished in record time.’

Tom kept quiet, thinking that at some point he was going to have to tell his manager that he hadn’t even started the album yet. And that he had no idea where the next song was going to come from.

Perhaps staying at Willow Tree Hall would help. But it was a family home. And family was something that had never worked out for him. Everyone in his life apart from his Gran had ignored him until the fame had arrived. Now they all just wanted a piece of him without even wanting to get to know him better. They only wanted Tommy King. Would he ever find someone who would be happy to settle for plain old Tom Kingsley instead?