Page 20 of Second Verse

But not Poppy. Very little was known. There was nothing about her daughter, marriages, zilch.

As the queue quietened, Poppy walked by to collect empty mugs from a nearby table. Norah couldn’t take any more. She initiated a conversation for the first time in their adult ‘reunion.’

‘So, how long have you been working here?’ she asked, trying to sound casual.

Poppy paused, looking slightly caught off guard by the question. ‘Oh, um, just a week,’ she said.

Norah nodded. An awkward silence hung between them for a moment before Poppy continued. ‘The coffee machine was a bit of a bastard at first, but I’m getting the hang of it.’

‘Yeah, it’s a good place,’ Norah said.

‘Are you here much?’ Poppy asked.

‘Now and again,’ Norah answered.

Poppy smiled in a way that locked off the conversation before hurrying back behind the counter to serve a new customer. Norah finished her lunch, gave a little wave goodbye to Poppy, and headed home, still deeply weirded out. It brought back a few memories of the last time Poppy had freaked her out.

Twenty Years Ago

The next night, as planned, Poppy texted Norah around ten. The second her phone pinged, Norah came out in a cold sweat.

Hey, practise is over. Still wanna hang out?

Technically, Norah didn’t need to reply, and the issue would go away for the time being.

But for some reason, she found her thumbs tapping out a reply.

Yeah, I’m up. Come over.

The reply was brief.

Cool.

Norah was truly panicked now. What was she going to say to Poppy? She probably had no idea that Norah had heard her song. Maybe it was fine? Maybe they didn’t need to talk about it? And maybe there wasn’t anything to talk about? Maybe the song wasn’t really about Norah. Maybe Poppy had just been lookingfor some words to put to music, and Norah’s name had merely the correct number of syllables to fit a rhyming scheme.

The only trouble with that theory was that the lyrics felt specific to her as a person. It wasn’t just her name. From what she could remember, it was about a sad girl who drew—which was Norah. And if allthatwas true, well...

Norah didn’t know what the hell to think. If only she could have talked to someone. The trouble was that the person she’d talk to was Poppy.

Poppy texted again to let her know she was at the front door, their usual system, to avoid disturbing Norah’s slumbering mother. As she headed out of her room and down the stairs, Norah knew there was a choice to make. She could pretend everything was fine, or she could admit she’d heard the song and deal with it head-on.

She slapped on a casual expression and opened the door. ‘Hi.’

Poppy didn’t look casual. She looked terrified. ‘Hello.’

They headed upstairs to Norah’s bedroom. The first thing Poppy did was go into her bag and dig out Norah’s pencils. ‘You left these in my room.’

Norah took the pencils. ‘Oh yeah, thanks. That’s g-great because I’ll need those because I was just doing a panel, and I realised I didn’t have anything to work with, so I was staring at this panel and trying to draw with my mind, which sounds a bit crazy, like I know I wasn’t achieving anything, but it was still—’

‘I know you heard the song,’ Poppy said.

OK, so... Plan B.

Norah sat on the swivel chair at her desk and turned it to Poppy. ‘Yeah,’ she said with a lick of her lips.

Poppy plunked her bum on Norah’s bed, and they looked at each other nervously for some time. Each seemed to be waiting for the other to say something.

Norah chewed the inside of her mouth. ‘Play it for me.’

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