Heartbreaker by Julie Morrigan Page B

the time. He wrote one song for three different girls, as I recall.’ Colin grinned. ‘Do you remember? Paid off like a rigged deck at poker.’
    ‘Do you remember that little Irish bird? What was her name, now …’
    ‘Morag.’
    ‘No, you dummy, she was Scottish. Long hair, big nose …’
    ‘Niamh.’
    ‘Niamh. That’s it, naïve Niamh.’ Paul looked at Alex and grinned. ‘She says to Johnny, “Ooh, who did you write that song for. I’m so jealous. She must’ve been really special to you.” And Johnny replies, “I wrote it for you. I just didn’t know it because I’d only ever met you in my dreams”.’
    Paul and Colin howled with laughter.
    Marilyn tutted. ‘Honestly,’ she exclaimed. Chrissie looked daggers at her, then smiled at Colin.
    ‘Putty in your hands after that, wasn’t she mate?’ he was saying. ‘Spent all her time either in your room or at confession. The priest must have looked forward to her visits, the things you got up to in those days.’
    ‘Okay, enough. Pick on someone else for a while.’ Johnny rubbed his eyes, flicked a glance at Alex. ‘It was all a long time ago. A different life.’
    Siobhan rescued him, looked back at the photograph she was holding. ‘See how Andy’s looking at Tiff there. He loved her so much.’
    ‘They loved each other.’
    ‘They did.’
    Christabel looked at Alex and grinned. ‘Listen to them, lost in their memories. They sound ready to be carted off to the wrinkly ranch.’
    Johnny laughed. ‘I feel like it sometimes, brat.’ He hugged her. ‘Come on, get back to your bartending duties. There are too many empty glasses around here for my liking.’
    ***
    The party rambled on through the day and into the evening. When it turned chilly, they moved indoors and put on low lights and music. Alex chatted with Siobhan and Paul as Billie Holliday sang the blues. She liked the big Geordie and his Irish wife; they were good company and fun to be with. As the album finished, Colin got up and picked up the White Stripes’ De Stijl .
    ‘No,’ said Paul, ‘not that.’
    ‘What’s the problem?’ asked Colin. ‘Bloody good album, this.’
    ‘Maybe, if you’re a guitarist.’
    Colin rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t like the primal drumming, is that it?’
    ‘Primal wouldn’t be a problem. That sounds like a monkey banging on a bloody biscuit tin.’
    ‘Okay, then, let’s try something else.’ He rummaged through Johnny’s music and held up Davy Graham’s Midnight Man . ‘Timely and timeless,’ he said. ‘I take it sir has no objections to Mr Graham?’
    ‘He’s not exactly the world’s greatest singer,’ observed Paul.
    ‘Nitpicker,’ exclaimed Johnny. ‘Anyway, you don’t need to be. Not when you’re one of the world’s greatest guitarists.’
    ‘Is that your excuse, oh tuneless one?’ asked Colin.
    ‘Bog off and cripple another riff, you ham-fisted git.’
     ‘Right, that’s me,’ said Marilyn. She stood up and tottered, unsteady on her feet. ‘I’ve definitely had enough. G’night.’
    Christabel was next to go, and then ten minutes later, Colin followed.
    Paul laughed. ‘Never changes. Colin’s always on Marilyn’s heels, he can’t bear to be apart from her.’
    Siobhan wrinkled her nose. ‘I think it’s sweet.’
    ‘No you don’t, you think it’s weird.’
    ‘Okay, I admit it, I think it’s weird.’
    ‘What do you think, Alex?’ Paul asked her.
    ‘I don’t know. You’ve known them for years, I’ve only just met all of you.’
    ‘First impressions, then.’
    ‘First impressions, I wouldn’t have given them a fortnight,’ she said, drunk enough to be candid. ‘Seeing them together for a bit longer, well that’s different. Colin seems very attentive.’
    ‘I still think they make a bit of an odd couple. Do you know they were married six weeks after they met? Not like Col at all, he’s normally far more cautious.’ Paul scratched his ear. ‘So, how are you finding life with Lazarus?’ he