Page 18 of Two Hit Wonder

"Why not? It's not like they've got copyright on being us."

"That's exactly what copyright is."

Cam waved a hand dismissively. "Fine, fine. Plan C, then. We find someone new. Hold auditions. X Factor style, except with taste." She was already warming to the idea, gesturing expansively. "We could do it at Shepherd's office. Make it a whole thing. Get some press, build some buzz. Maybe Netflix would be interested in that, actually."

"Shepherd won't represent us without Maeve," Iona reminded her. "He was very clear about that."

"Then we find a new agent."

"With what reputation? We're a one-hit wonder from fifteen years ago. Without Maeve, we're just three women who used to be in a band."

The words came out sharper than she'd intended. Cam looked stung. Ellie's hand tightened on her water glass.

"Sorry," Iona said quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. I just meant that we need Maeve. Everyone keeps saying we can do it without her, but we can't. She was the voice. The songs. The thing that made us actually good."

The silence stretched.

"It was a silly idea anyway," Ellie said finally. She was staring at her water. "Getting back together. We're different people now. We've got lives. Responsibilities. It's not like we can just drop everything and go on tour like we're nineteen again."

She didn't sound angry. She sounded resigned, which was somehow worse. Iona thought about Ellie's three kids, her house in Surrey, her husband who adored her. She thought about Cam's chaos and her own shapeless life and all the years they'd spent apart. And… and something inside her clicked, some little piece of her found a voice, and it said that she wanted this, they all wanted this. And that defeat wasn’t in her blood.

"Maybe not," she said slowly. "But let's not give up yet. Let's take the night, think about it, come up with ideas. There might be something we haven't considered."

She didn't really believe it. But the alternative was admitting that she’d lost, and she wasn't ready for that. Not when she'd just seen Maeve for the first time in fifteen years. Not when her heart was still doing weird things every time she thought about red hair and green eyes and a stone cottage at the edge of nowhere.

Cam brightened immediately. "Right. Yes. Good thinking. I'll brainstorm. I've got loads of contacts. There's this woman I met at a festival once, she's married to someone who used to produce for Sony."

"Cam," Ellie said.

"And there's this bar in Hackney where all the industry people hang out. I could go tonight, do some networking."

"Cam."

"Or we could just kidnap Maeve. Drug her and put her in the boot of my car. Does that count as Plan D, or is it its own category?"

"I think that's a felony," Iona said.

"It's only a felony if you get caught."

Ellie stood up, reaching for her bag. "On that note, I need to get home. Ben's got football and Jake's hopeless at remembering his kit." She paused, looked at Iona. "Don't beat yourself up about this. You tried. That's more than most people would have done."

She left before Iona could respond. Cam watched her go with a thoughtful expression.

"She seem alright to you?" Iona said.

"She's tired. Three kids. You know how it is."

"I do. But do you? You can barely keep a cactus alive."

Cam snorted. "It was suicide, I'm sure of it. The little bastard threw himself off the windowsill." She drained the last of her coffee and stood up. "I'm going to make some calls. Don't lose hope, yeah? Something will work out. It always does."

She said it with such confidence that Iona almost believed her.

THE FLAT WAS quiet when she finally got home after coffee and shopping and spending far too long in a record shop listening to songs that she wished she’d played on. Too quiet. Mo's school bag was dumped by the door, shoes kicked off at random angles, but there was no music coming from her room, no sound of the telly, nothing.

"Mo?" Iona called. "I'm home."

Silence.