Page 82 of Take a Moment

My hand shoots to my mouth. ‘You’re really moving here? Like,reallyreally?’

‘You never thought I’d do it, did you?’

‘I… um… argh, I can’t lie to you. I hoped you would. But I figured, you’re a nester, you’d eventually decide to stay where you were.’

‘No reason to now.’ Her lips tremble ever so slightly. ‘It was my mum that held me back from doing anything more adventurous. Filling my head with total BS, just so she would have me around to wait on her like a skivvy. Nah-uh. I’m claiming back my life.’

‘This is amazing, Sash.’ I rub my forehead, still trying to digest this fantastic news, then a thought comes to me. ‘Wait, what’s going on here? I’m supposed to be the rational, practically minded one who doesn’t get in a flap.’

‘I know, right?’ Sasha giggles. ‘And I’m normally the irrational, panicky one who’s paralysed by indecision over the slightest thing.’

‘Has there been some weird kind of spell put on us?’

‘Maybe. Or maybe we just all have good and bad moments in life. As I said, I learned from the best.’

‘I don’t feel like the best right now, Sash.’ I switch on the cold tap, plunging my wrists under it once more in a bid to calm my racing pulse. ‘I feel like Birmingham’s soon-to-be shortest-lived lead vocalist ever. And that’s just the problems of the next few hours. Beyond that, with Matt, Dom… I can’t even compute it.’

‘So, don’t. You can’t do anything about the guys right now. Just focus on the next few hours and enjoy the experience. The stage fright will pass. Lose yourself in the music and let your brain figure the rest out for you.’

I switch off the tap and look at her, appreciating her in this moment more than I ever have. ‘You’re so right, Sash. Thank you for turning up when I needed you the most. And now, I’m going to politely ask you to turn round and walk back out the door so I can fit in some last-minute voice warmups. But I can’t wait to see you again later.’

‘Me neither. Break a leg.’ She gives me a final hug, plants a kiss on my cheek and disappears back out of the toilets.

I turn back to the mirror and focus on getting myself calm and into balance. Thank goodness for Sasha turning up like that. She’s probably just saved me from a full-on meltdown. Sash and Lex. Propping each other up since ninety-three.

Several minutes later, I’m on stage behind a giant black curtain doing the final sound checks with the band. Sammy helps me set the mic up just as I need it.

‘All set, Alex? I know you’re nervous. Best advice I can give is don’t make eye contact with any of the crowd. Not until you’re in your stride.’

‘OK, thanks, that’s helpful.’ I take a deep shaky breath.

‘You’ve got this.’ He grabs my shoulder and squeezes it affectionately. ‘It’s not that different to singing karaoke.’

As he makes his way back across to his position and slings his guitar strap over his shoulder, I suddenly have an idea.

‘Sammy, what do you think of redheads?’

‘Men or women?’

‘Women, obviously. You mentioned the other night you’d like one in your life.’

‘I don’t really have a type if that’s what you’re asking. There are some really hot redheads out there. Nicole Kidman and Isla Fisher for a start.’

I flash him a little grin. ‘In that case, there’s someone I need to introduce you to later.’

Minutes later, the curtain is drawn back, the stage lights flash and we burst to life with our opening track, one of the band’s own songs, ‘Space Poets’. It’s lively, rocky, bursting with energy. The perfect gig opener; and the crowd instantly love it. This is an enormous relief to me as I stand centre stage, belting out the lyrics, fuelled by their support. My nerves are almost immediately extinguished by the sight of so many elated faces bobbing up and down in the darkness, and the face of one person in particular: Matt. He’s right at the front, dancing like a maniac, whooping and cheering me on.

The adrenaline courses through me and I lose myself in the song. It feels like no more than a moment before the band are playing the outro and Sammy’s addressing the crowd before launching us into another of the band’s own pieces. We play one track after the next; we mix in some well-known covers, but I’m surprised to see the crowd are responding more enthusiastically to the band’s own tracks. Some are even singing along.

As I bounce lightly on my toes, interacting playfully with my fellow band members and the crowd, I feel a surge of happiness like I’ve never felt before. It’s like a drug, taking me through such a high. I feel invincible. Unstoppable. I’m not the woman with MS, I can conquer the world.

I don’t want it to end but it does, to rapturous applause and wolf-whistling. It’s a moment like no other, taking that bow and feeling the stamping appreciation reverberate through the venue. Basking in the experience, just as Sasha suggested, the pieces start to fall into place and my brain finally offers me the answer I’ve been seeking.

‘OMG, you were amazing!’ Sasha launches herself on me when I, Sammy and the other band members emerge from backstage.

‘Oof! Thanks, Sash.’ I hug her back.

‘How did it feel, Lex? You were so natural up there, a pro rock star. Looked like you’d been doing it for ever.’

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