‘Sounds brilliant. Now, as your old man who also happens to be a rock star, I would like to meet this band of yours and see what I can do for you. How about that? You know, I’ve got a music studio out there in the woods. There’s a little cottage out there – I converted the place. It used to be the old farm cottage. How about you bring your band here and we record some of your stuff?’

I swing my DMs under the counter. ‘I mean … that sounds great. But how do you know we’re worth recording?’

Michael laughs. ‘You’re my daughter. Of course you’re worth recording. You’ll be ace. It runs in the family.’

‘I don’t know if I’m good. I just know I love performing and writing music.’

‘The music industry is a tough business,’ says Michael. ‘But if you really want your band to go places, I’ll help you all the way. Listen, stay for the party today. There’ll be music guys here. My producer. A couple of agents. Some real heavy dudes in the industry. I’ll introduce you around and start the wheels turning. Sound good?’

‘That’s like every teenager’s dream. Really? You’d do that?’

‘Of course. Anything for my little girl. So what do you do? Sing? Play guitar? What?’

‘I’m the singer. Well, singer-songwriter. And yes, I play guitar. Any instrument I can get my hands on really.’

‘Of course you do.’ Michael ruffles my bleached hair. ‘You’ve got the old Reyji Ray lyrical blood in your veins. Well, I’ll introduce you around today and see if we can start making some connections.’

I’m nodding and nodding. ‘Yes. Wow, yes definitely. Cool.’

‘And you write your own songs, do you?’

‘Totally. It’s what keeps me sane. When I’m stuck in my bedroom, writing songs is like my freedom. It’s like the only thing that’s mine. Everything else Mum controls.’

‘Your mother is scared, Liberty,’ says Michael. ‘Scared of losing you. She has good reason. And I will tell you all about it. I promise. Later.’ He takes my hand. ‘You’ve got your real dad back now. And if you want to get into the rock and roll business, I’ll help you every step of the way.’ Michael cocks his head. ‘Hold up. I think I hear Diane.’

I sit up straight. ‘I hope my mother didn’t give her a hard time.’

Michael shakes his head. ‘Your mother has gone. Probably Diane was the one who got rid of her. One way or another. I know it sounds harsh, but if you knew what Lorna had put us through—’