by Anita Notaro
I nodded. ‘I know. And Mum was up there, looking down on me, I know she was.’
She nodded, and then Niall pulled me towards him again. ‘C’mon, let’s get you something to drink.’
I allowed myself to be led to a sofa in the corner of the room, feeling suddenly shaky, flopping down on the cushions and leaning my head back for a few moments. ‘I need to take these shoes off.’ I laughed.
Colette came bustling towards me. ‘Gently, please. No yanking them off your heel and then wondering why they don’t fit you properly the next time.’
At her bossy tone, everyone burst out laughing, and the tension was suddenly lifted.
‘What?’ she said, looking cross.
I shook my head, doubled over with laughter. ‘Nothing,’ I said, bending over to take them off as gently as I could. ‘Thank God,’ I sighed, wiggling my toes. ‘Apologies for my sweaty feet everyone, but they’re killing me.’
Niall attempted to grab one of my feet. ‘Are they sweaty? Hmm, let me have a sniff,’ and then he pretended to gag.
I mock-punched him. ‘Cheeky.’ I leaned back on the sofa again, realizing that I wanted him to kiss me, but he could hardly do so with the entire population of Glenvara standing over us. It would have to wait until later.
I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling myself relax just a fraction. I’ve no idea why, when the audience vote was still coming in, but after the performance, I felt spent. Maybe Monica was right. I’d given everything and I had nothing left. I allowed the others to fuss over me, Betty offering me tea from her ever-present flask. ‘None of that bog water they call tea in this place,’ and Niall gently rubbing my feet.
And then I blinked and Karen was standing over me, her earphones on her head. ‘It’s time, Toni,’ she said kindly. I looked at Niall, not wanting to leave him, but he smiled at me reassuringly.
‘Go on, we’ll all be here when you get back, and we can celebrate your win then.’
‘Don’t say that,’ I said shakily.
‘But it’s true,’ he said, squeezing my hand. ‘It’s yours, Antonia, believe me.’
I said nothing, not wanting to argue, just letting Colette help me into my shoes again, before Karen led me back to make-up. ‘We’ll just get Valerie to have a look at you before you go back out on stage,’ she said gently.
Valerie for once was silent, merely nodding and offering a brisk, ‘Well done,’ before applying fresh powder and a slick of gloss to set my lipstick, then teasing my hair back into shape.
‘Thanks, Valerie,’ Karen said, leading me back out and down the long corridor to the backstage area, where Damien and the boys from 4Guys had gathered. We all hugged and congratulated each other, and then Damien winked at me and gave me that cheeky grin. I blushed bright red. Oh, no, had he read the rumours about us?
But then he gave me a brotherly peck on the cheek. ‘Toni, you were fantastic. May the best man win.’
‘Thanks, Damien,’ I said. ‘Good luck.’
‘OK, everyone,’ Karen was saying. ‘Aaron will open after the ads and announce that the lines are closed, and then he’ll cue you all on to the stage. You know your spots, so you just stand there and don’t move, please, because it really puts the number-one camera guy off.’
We nodded like naughty schoolchildren, and she continued. ‘Aaron will ask a couple of questions. Nothing major: how nervous are you, what’ll you do if you win, etcetera? And then he’ll announce the third place. Whoever gets third accepts the applause, then comes off the stage quickly so we can prep for the final announcement. Now, you know that whoever wins will be going straight into their song, don’t you?’
We nodded. It all sounded so businesslike, so clinical, when in just five minutes, one of us would be winning That’s Talent! I tried to focus on my breathing, because any wobble in my voice would be heard when I came to sing. And then I chided myself. Why did I assume that it would be me singing? It could be Damien or 4Guys. Tomorrow I could be back in Glenvara parish choir singing ‘Hail Holy Queen’. But the steady breathing helped me to stay calm, focused. We all held hands and waited, and then the ad break was over and Aaron was bouncing on stage again.
‘Here goes,’ Damien said, and on cue, we all walked out on stage, taking our places and accepting the deafening applause. All of a sudden I was stricken with shyness, and prayed that Aaron wouldn’t ask me a question. I hated all of that – I just wanted to sing, when the nerves would fade away and I could really be myself.
He must have read my mind, because he zeroed in on me, microphone in hand. ‘Now, Toni, you’ve been the subject of much of the media speculation this week. That’s a lot of pressure, isn’t it?’
I tried to smile brightly. ‘Well, I try not to think about it too much, Aaron. I just focus on the performance. That’s all I can do: sing the song and leave people to make up their own minds.’
There was a huge round of applause, whistles and shouts, and I thought, Thank God, I’ve given the right answer – it feels like a school test. Aaron moved on to 4Guys and Damien in turn, who both answered much the same, because it was true. The judges could say what they liked, but in the end, the public decided, and all we could do was leave it up to them.
I only half-listened to the rest of Aaron’s chat, because my heart was thumping so wildly in my chest and there was a roaring in my ears even louder than the audience’s screams. And then he was about to announce the third-place act, and by this stage, the audience was yelling so loudly I only half-heard … it was 4Guys. Oh, God, there was only Damien and me left. A silence descended over the stadium again, broken only by the flashing bulbs of cameras. Maurice and Mary came down to the stage, Maurice standing with Damien, Mary with me, to give us moral support. I found myself thinking that I would really have liked Maurice in my corner. There was something … trustworthy about him, I thought. But I accepted Mary’s outstretched hand as we both stood there on the stage. ‘Fingers crossed, Toni,’ she whispered into my ear. I smiled back, but said nothing in reply. I was just too nervous to talk.
And then Aaron began his intro. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, it’s been eight weeks of highs and lows, fabulous performances, tears and laughter, but it all comes down to this. This one moment,’ he said. ‘The votes are in and the lines are closed. And the winner of That’s Talent! is …’
Of course, there was an endless silence that seemed to stretch into eternity. Mary squeezed my hand and whispered into my ear, ‘Good luck, Toni.’ I didn’t even react. It was beyond luck now. I had no idea how to behave. Colette had made me practise in the mirror, pinning a look of surprise on my face, and then a smile of acceptance if I lost, but now … well, I hadn’t a clue what to do.
And then Aaron said, ‘Damien!’ and the audience erupted. I stood there, a smile pinned on my face, for what seemed like the longest time.
Mary was yelling above the audience, ‘So sorry, Toni, so sorry.’ I kept on smiling, remembering to applaud Damien as he came towards me and enveloped me in a bear hug.
‘Sorry, Toni, it should have been you … honest.’ He had to shout into my ear above the screaming.
‘For God’s sake, don’t be silly. You deserve it,’ I said, smiling and hugging him back, and then Aaron was coming towards me, microphone in hand. My heart sank. I didn’t want to talk right now.
‘Toni, you have truly won the hearts of the nation with your singing every week. It’s been consistently just brilliant. Tell me, how do you feel?’
How did I feel? I had no clue as I was completely numb. I hadn’t expected to win it, but now that I hadn’t … I opened my mouth like a goldfish, then closed it again, trying desperately to pull myself together. Eventually, I managed, ‘Well, Damien’s a worthy winner, Aaron, and I’m truly glad to have got this far.’ And that much was true, I thought, as I allowed Mary to lead me off the stage, in a complete daze.
That was it, I thought, as she let go of my hand and wandered off with a production assistant, who was fussing over her microphone. It wa
s over, I thought, as I stood in the wings, watching Damien strap his guitar on and prepare to launch into his song. It was over, and I’d be forgotten about the very next day. And I didn’t mind, I told myself. It’d be nice to get back to Glenvara and a bit of anonymity for a bit. And to process everything that had happened in the past few weeks. And I could hold my head up high. I’d got to the finals and given the competition everything I possibly could.
I watched Damien sing his number, tears rolling down his cheeks, and I was glad for him. He was a great singer and had stage presence. He’d go far, I knew that.
And then I felt someone at my side. I looked up to see Maurice Prendergast standing beside me, in his silver-grey suit and black shirt, every inch the record company mogul. He looked more polished than usual. Karen must have got hold of him for the ‘tidy-up’ she’d been threatening to give him all season.
‘The surprise winner.’ He nodded at Damien.
‘No, he deserved it.’ I was adamant.
He snorted with laughter. ‘Everyone knows it should have been you, Toni. But you’re a good sport, I’ll give you that.’
‘What do you mean?’ I looked at him sharply.
‘Damien’s talented, sure, but there isn’t much of a market for pub-circuit singer-songwriters. Now you, on the other hand …’
I shook my head. ‘But I didn’t win …’
He looked at me and smiled, and I suddenly thought how much he reminded me of Dad. ‘Oh yes, you did.’ And he waved his hand around the set. ‘This isn’t the end, Toni, not by a long chalk. Ring me tomorrow, will you?’ And he thrust a small white card into my hand. And then he was gone.
I was alone all of a sudden, standing in the wings in my fuchsia dress. There was no sign of Karen. She was probably busy with Damien. Well, at least I know where to go, I thought, as I walked down the narrow, dark corridor off the set for the last time. And all I could think was: Thank God it’s over. Thank God I’ll never have to do this again.
21
NIALL FOUND ME first. He’d wandered off from the green room and sneaked towards the backstage area. ‘I knew you’d need a hug,’ he said, as I walked towards him.
‘I do,’ I said softly, walking into his arms and letting him hold me.
He rubbed my back and whispered into my ear, ‘You’re the greatest, do you know that?’ over and over again.
I nodded. ‘Thanks. Thanks for everything.’
‘It must be hard to stand out there and … well …’ he began.
I interrupted him, pulling out of his arms. ‘It’s fine, really,’ I said. ‘It’s just … it’s been such a surreal few weeks. My feet haven’t touched the ground and … well, I can’t tell you how glad I am it’s all over.’
He looked sceptical. ‘Not too disappointed?’
I shook my head. ‘No, really. I never expected any of this. It’s been beyond my wildest dreams, and now I can’t wait to get back to normality. I want us to do ordinary stuff like climb Powerscourt waterfall …’
‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ He laughed. ‘It nearly killed you the last time.’
I found the energy to smile. ‘Well, I’ll have plenty of time to practise my mountain-climbing technique, won’t I?’
‘Maybe.’ He kissed me on the nose. ‘If this is what you really want. But I have a feeling you won’t be getting much time for mountain climbing.’
‘Well, we’ll see,’ I said. I didn’t tell him about Maurice Prendergast. I just wanted to sit down and have a cup of tea and forget about it all. ‘Could I ask you a favour?’ I asked him.
‘Sure, anything.’ And he was so gentle, so caring, that I felt like crying.
‘Could you go first into the green room? I mean, ahead of me?’
He pulled me towards him and hugged me again, so tightly I could feel his ribs through his shirt. ‘You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, do you know that?’ he said.
I nodded. ‘I know.’
‘C’mon, let’s go,’ he said, holding my hand and squeezing it tight.
It was truly the worst thing of all, going back into the green room and seeing the disappointment on everyone’s faces. They gathered around me, patting me on the back and telling me that I’d tried my best and, sure, wasn’t I brilliant anyway? But I could tell that they all felt deflated. They’d put so much into supporting me, week after week, and now here we were. Not winning, but not exactly losing, either. It was clear that nobody knew what to do.
In the end, Niall took charge, insisting that I needed some food and drink, and that he was going to drive me home, after which I’d drop into the big celebration planned in Glenvara.
‘Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to have some quiet time?’ Sister Monica looked at me searchingly.
That’s exactly what I would have liked, but the very least they deserved was a bit of a party, after all they’d done for me. ‘No, I’d really like to celebrate. I got to the finals after all!’
‘That’s the spirit,’ Bridget whooped, so loudly and enthusiastically that we all laughed, and the mood was lifted for a bit.
‘I need to change out of this and clean off some of this make-up first, so I’ll meet you all outside, OK?’ I said.
‘But they’ll all want to see you in your finery,’ Bridget protested. ‘They’ll want you to do the song again and—’
‘I think Antonia’s already done enough, Bridget,’ Sister Monica intervened, placing a hand gently on Bridget’s arm. She was lovely, as ever, but the message was clear.
Bridget shrugged her shoulders and smiled. ‘Of course, pet, what was I thinking?’
Poor Bridget. She’d been my number one fan. I couldn’t bear to spoil it for her. ‘Bridget, I’d like nothing better than to go to the party, and I promise I’ll sing whatever song you like. I’ll just freshen up a bit first, is that OK?’
She cheered up immediately. ‘Bless you, pet. We’ll be outside,’ she trilled, and led the gang off to the car park, like the Pied Piper.
Alone again with Niall, I sighed and managed a watery smile.
‘You don’t have to go, you know.’ He took my hand and squeezed it gently.
‘No, I want to,’ I said, more enthusiastically than I felt. ‘But I need to take some of this stuff off, it’s driving me crazy,’ I indicated the thick layer of make-up, which felt like concrete on my face.
‘Sure—’ he began, when there was a shuffling at the door, and in strode Karen, her earphones around her neck, clipboard in hand, as usual.
‘Where on earth did you get to?’ She fixed me with a glare.
‘Sorry, I thought …’
‘What? That we’d have no further use for you now that you’re runner-up. Are you kidding?’ She looked at me. ‘I’ve a list as long as my arm of stuff I need you to do, beginning with the wrap party. You’ll need a change, I think, and we’ll get Valerie to have another look.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Where’s that bossy stylist of yours?’
‘Ehm, I think she’s gone home.’
‘For God’s sake, doesn’t she have a clue?’ Karen looked impatient, before shrugging her shoulders. ‘Sorry. It’s just we’re really tight for time, and you need to be looking your best. Let’s see what Niamh in costume can do with you. Will you be coming?’
This remark was directed at Niall, who looked at her, open-mouthed. ‘Oh, I don’t know, I—’
‘Good, great, fab, well, I’ll just take Toni off now to change, and we’ll hand you over to Steven, one of the researchers. He’ll keep an eye on you and take you to the venue, OK?’
‘Karen, the gang in Glenvara have a party planned for me—’ I began, but stopped when she looked at me as if I was deranged.
‘Well, we do have family and friends at the wrap party, but obviously not coachloads. It’s more of a networking thing, you know? Give you the chance to meet interesting people.’ And then she tapped her earphones and yelled, ‘What? No, I’ve found her. Yep, will get her sorted and bring her to the back door in thirty. C’mon.�
� She tugged me by the arm. And then she looked at Niall. ‘Don’t move. I’ll send Steven along in five.’
I hesitated, thinking of Bridget, and how disappointed she’d be. I couldn’t let her down, not after everything she’d done for me. I needed to be in Glenvara, with the people who really mattered to me, the people who’d supported me all along.
In the end, it was Niall who decided for me. ‘Go. I’ll talk to Bridget.’
‘I can’t, I—’
‘Better get used to this.’ He looked at me kindly. ‘I’ve a feeling this is the way it’s going to be from now on.’
‘No way.’ I was adamant. I thought: This is just a one-off, because I’m the plucky runner-up. What was it Dad used to say? ‘Today’s news is tomorrow’s chip-wrappings.’ Well, that’s what I’d be tomorrow: chip-wrappings, I thought, as I allowed Karen to lead me to the dressing room for another costume change. And I was actually pleased about it. I could go back to the life I’d had before, couldn’t I? Escape from all the madness of the past eight weeks.
So, why did the thought scare me so much?
I hardly saw Niall for a few hours, as I was dragged from one ‘interesting’ person to another in the packed nightclub. I didn’t know who anyone was, but they all seemed so friendly, considering that I hadn’t actually won. They congratulated me on my performance and told me I’d have a great career, and one or two even offered to manage me. I wasn’t sure how to react – should I talk to these people seriously, or wait to consult Karen? I was bewildered. If I got this much attention for losing, God knows what it would have been like if I’d actually won the thing. I desperately wanted Niall by my side, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Damien was holding court in a circle of record company executives, charming them with his humour. I had to admit, he was every inch the rock star, with his edgy look and dark flashing eyes. I went up to him to say ‘congratulations’ again, and found myself blinded by flashlights.
‘The two of you together,’ one photographer yelled, encouraging Damien to put his arm around me.