Page 22 of Two Hit Wonder

The countryside began to roll past outside. Green hills giving way to flatter land, sheep dotting the fields like scattered cotton. Maeve watched without really seeing, her mind churning.

She'd promised Glinna she'd call.

The phone felt heavy in her hand. She'd put off this conversation for days, telling herself there was no point calling until she was sure she was going. Well, she was on the train now. She was going. There were no more excuses.

Iona's number was still in her contacts. She'd never deleted it, all these years. Never quite been able to bring herself to erase that last thread of connection.

Her thumb hovered over the call button.

Just do it, she told herself. It's a phone call. You've done harder things than this.

She pressed call before she could talk herself out of it.

It rang once. Twice. Three times. Maybe Iona wouldn't answer. Maybe she'd be busy, or her phone would be off, or she'd see Maeve's name and decide not to pick up, which would be entirely fair given how their last conversation had ended… Maybe she had a new phone number. Wouldn’t that just be perfect?

"Hello?" Iona's voice. Slightly breathless, like she'd been rushing to answer. Uncertain, like she couldn't quite believe her screen.

"It's me," Maeve said, and immediately felt like an idiot. Obviously it was her. Her name would have come up. "Maeve, I mean. Obviously."

"I know." A pause. "I can see your name."

"Right. Yes. Of course."

Another pause. The train rattled over a junction. Maeve stared out the window at a cow, which stared back with vacant indifference.

"Is everything alright?" Iona asked. Her voice had that careful quality to it, the one people used when they were bracing for bad news. "I mean, you said… you made it pretty clear…"

"I'm on a train."

"A train?"

"To London." The silence that followed was so complete that Maeve briefly wondered if the call had dropped. She pulled the phone away from her ear to check. Still connected. "Iona?"

"Sorry. I'm here. I just…" A shaky exhale. "You're coming to London?"

"Apparently."

"To… to join the band?"

"Dunno. To try. To see. No promises, no commitment, and if I hate it, I'm getting straight back on a train and going home."

"Of course. That's… that's completely reasonable." Iona's voice had lifted, just slightly. A note of something that sounded… happy, perhaps. "When do you arrive?"

"Tonight. Late. I'll find a hotel or something, I haven't really…"

"You could stay with me." The words came out in a rush, almost falling over each other. Then another pause, as if Iona had surprised herself by saying them. "You don't have to," Iona added quickly. "I know you probably want your own space. But I've got a spare room, and it seems silly to pay for a hotel when…"

"I'll get a hotel. Probably for the best."

"Okay. Right. Yes."

The train was speeding south now, Scotland falling away behind her. Maeve felt like she was standing on the edge of something, the ground crumbling under her feet. "I should go," she said. "Bad signal. I'll text you when I'm close."

"Alright. And Maeve?"

"Yes?"

There was a pause that stretched long enough that Maeve almost thought she might have jinxed her phone with the bad signal lie.