No Way to Say Goodbye - Anna McPartlin [62]
A year later, with two more massive acts tearing apart the charts, he was said to have the Midas touch, and described as a hardcore asshole. After he had taken over Max Eastler’s job and axed Sophia’s band Demonic – having explained to them that, in the current climate, they were expendable – he left RCA America to head up A&R at Seminy Records. The owner Leland Vander had made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Seminy was a hot new label nipping at the heels of the establishment.
At twenty-six Sam was one of the biggest players on the American music scene. He was sitting on top of the world and, deep inside, he knew that, for him, the only way was down.
Sam had navigated his way through eight weeks of rehab without really examining who he was, yet while he was alone and playing his guitar it was all he could do. He had been such an asshole for so long. He hadn’t wanted to be – he’d just wanted to succeed so that the pain would go away. He’d believed that if he was the best nothing could touch him. He was wrong, of course. The gold records, the penthouse, the limos, the sexy girlfriend, the money, the suits, the great restaurants, the cool clubs, the awards – none of it had made any difference and, in the moment he’d realized he couldn’t escape himself, he’d lost himself.
Sam played his guitar for two days straight until his hand was so stiff it was difficult to hold a fork. He hadn’t seen Mary in those two days but she had made sure that he left her home with enough food to last him a week. Now he was looking forward to seeing her again. She had been such a surprise to him. The nights he’d spent on her floor had been illuminating. His once-frosty neighbour was warm and natural, not like most of the women he’d known, who were mostly too busy holding in their stomachs to be able to engage with him. She engaged, looking straight through his eyes and into his soul. He knew it would be difficult to hide anything from her.
14. Every day is like Sunday
Ivan woke with his seven-year-old daughter sitting on his chest. He opened one eye playfully, closed it and opened the other. She giggled. He raised his arms and she held on to them, lifted his legs and her feet met his. Suddenly she was suspended in the air, screaming and laughing. He dropped her onto the bed and she curled up beside him. “Happy Easter, Dad!”
“Happy Easter, Justy! Where’s your brother?”
“Down by the water.”
Chris, a ten-year-old who could have passed for thirteen, loved the water just like his dad. Ivan knew his son missed it in his new home and felt sorry for him.
“Eggs?” he queried.
“An omelette, with mushrooms, ham and cheese, and Granny Sheila’s brown bread,” Justine demanded.
“You don’t ask for much!” Ivan ruffled her hair, happy that he’d stocked up.
Sitting in the kitchen she chatted about Granny Sheila and her twin cousins, and Auntie Mary, who’d promised to take her to Killarney to buy something pretty. Ivan attempted to question her about her new world but she remained closed off.
“Is everything OK with your mother?” he asked eventually.
She shrugged her shoulders and pretended to smile.
“Justine. Answer me. Is everything OK?”
She looked a little nervous, playing with the sugar bowl, and he could have sworn a tear sprang into her eye.
Chris opened the back door and came in rubbing his hands. “I could smell that omelette from halfway up the yard!” he said gleefully.
Justine laughed and Ivan winked at his son, happy his children were with him and temporarily forgetting his concern. After all, it was Easter Sunday and, for the first time ever, his mother had excused her children from their obligatory Sunday meal in favour of Ivan hosting a family barbecue to welcome his children home.
Ivan had missed out on most of his kids’ lives. It wasn’t just his wife’s defection. A house and lifestyle like Ivan’s didn’t come from a fisherman’s pay packet. As a teenager, when he had discovered Norma’s pregnancy, he had had two choices: the first was to be poor and a full-time father, and the second was to train as a commercial diver,