Lost and Found on Foxglove Street (The Foxglove Street #9)

Chapter 26

26

For the second day in a row, Grace accompanied Ryan and Miriam on their excursion, with Stanley tagging along, too. Any concerns she had that she was encroaching on the special time that Ryan was spending with his grandmother were quickly dismissed when she received a surprise phone call from Miriam that morning to say they were leaving for a day at the seaside at nine o’clock on the dot, and Grace and Stanley were expected to join them.

Before she could protest, Miriam had hung up the phone, the matter settled.

Grace was glad the no-nonsense older lady had taken charge and told her what’s what. She couldn’t wait to spend another day in Ryan’s company. After their day out roaming around the South Downs countryside, a day at the seaside sounded like the perfect contrast. With the weather forecast to be bright and sunny again, and not too warm, they were set for perfect conditions.

Miriam chose a seaside location southwest of Chichester, where there was a stretch of golden sandy beach and an attractive promenade, along with plenty of cafes and bistros and shops in the small town nearby. They spent a pleasant hour walking along the beach while Stanley raced in and out of the waves lapping against the shore, followed by an inevitable pit stop at a beachfront café for late morning coffee and cake.

After visiting the little museum in the town where Miriam wanted to learn more about the maritime history of the local area, they enjoyed another walk along the beach in the opposite direction from their earlier route, and which led them to a small coastal nature reserve where there were all manner of seabirds to observe from a viewing platform.

Miriam chose an attractive seafood bistro for lunch, and Ryan treated them all to an indulgent three-course meal of crab cakes, fish pie, and homemade ice cream for dessert. As they sat outside admiring the views from the restaurant across the English Channel, Stanley snaffled on the gravy bones Grace had brought along in a bag for the little dog, and behaved himself beautifully as he lay beneath the table.

The delicious food required yet another short walk along the beach to work off their excesses. After visiting some of the local shops and making purchases to support the local businesses, they piled back into Ryan’s car for the drive home.

Miriam opted for the back seat this time, explaining that the seaside walks and fresh air had left her on the cusp of a nap. Before they’d even left behind the little seaside town where they’d spent the day, Grace could already hear Miriam’s gentle snoring coming from the back of the car, alongside Stanley’s far noisier snores emanating from the boot.

As Ryan drove the winding country roads towards home, they kept conversation to a minimum, not wanting to wake Miriam up. The silence between them was comfortable, more comfortable than Grace imagined it could be after only knowing Ryan for a few days. They exchanged amused smiles as Miriam and Stanley snored in stereo in the back of the car, and when Grace reached across to squeeze Ryan’s free hand as he steered with the other, she couldn’t mistake the heat that flashed across her skin as his fingers squeezed hers in return.

It was a perfect day, Grace thought as they drove back into Hamblehurst a little while later. Two perfect days in a row with Ryan… and with his grandmother, of course.

A week ago, the idea of spending time with a new man in whom she was interested, along with his grandmother , would’ve struck Grace as completely bizarre. It was certainly unconventional.

And yet it felt nothing other than lovely being with the two of them. Miriam was a sweet and charismatic woman who made her feel entirely welcome in their company. When they’d all been walking along the beach together, and then checking out the little museum and the nature reserve, Grace had caught the way Miriam had looked at the two of them as she’d strolled hand-in-hand with Ryan.

The pleasure on Miriam’s face was clear to see. Knowing that Miriam liked Grace as much as she liked her brought satisfaction, and knowing she seemed to enjoy seeing her grandson in Grace’s company made her feel like she was a welcome addition to their little day-tripping unit.

By the time they returned to Ryan’s house on Riverside Road, it was almost six o’clock in the evening. As no one was remotely hungry after the huge lunch they’d enjoyed, they agreed to skip dinner and see how they felt about something to eat later. At Miriam’s request, Ryan boiled the kettle so that his grandmother could have a cup of her beloved Earl Grey tea.

“I’m still rather sleepy, despite my nap in the car on the way home,” Miriam said, taking the tea mug Ryan passed to her. “If you two don’t mind, I’m going to enjoy this brew while stretched out upstairs on my guest bed, and I may even close my eyes for half an hour.”

“That’s fine with us, Grandma,” Ryan replied. “Just give us a shout if you need anything.”

“Will do.” Miriam headed for the kitchen door, but stopped when she got there and turned back. “Oh, Grace, you simply must ask Ryan to play the new song he wrote last night. It’s really rather beautiful.”

“How do you know about the song I wrote last night?” Ryan asked with a frown.

“Like you said yesterday, Ryan, I have the hearing of a bat,” Miriam said with a wink.

“But I kept it quiet down here while I was playing the guitar because I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You didn’t wake me. But I recognised the tune as the same as the one you were playing before, and I couldn’t help listening while you worked on it. I think it’s lovely, Ryan, and I’m sure Grace will think so, too.”

Miriam gave Ryan a sly wink as she left, and when he turned around to face her, Grace saw the blush on his cheeks.

“She’s a meddler, that woman,” Ryan laughed, still frowning but obviously amused, too. “And she definitely has some sort of supernatural hearing ability, if she could hear what I was playing down here last night while she was up in her room.”

“So, will you play the song for me?” Grace asked. “If it’s as good as your grandmother claims, then I can’t wait to be one of the first to listen to it.”

Ryan waved a hand and looked uncomfortable. “I’m not sure it’s ready yet. It still needs some work.”

“That’s okay. I can make allowances for any rubbish bits.”

Her humorous remark drew a smile from Ryan, and when Stanley came barrelling over from where he’d been lapping at his water dish and began barking at him, as if adding his own encouragement into the mix, Grace sensed his defences weakening.

“Fine. I’ll play it for you. But I’m only playing the music, not singing the lyrics.”

“Oh, that’s a pity. Why won’t you sing?”

There was a long silence before he answered. “I just don’t sing. I don’t have a good voice.”

Grace was about to press him on this, remembering what he’d said several days ago when he’d first told her about what he did for a living. She was sure she remembered him saying something about once being a singer and a performer.

Still, if he didn’t want to sing, that was his right. He seemed cagey enough about letting her hear the music he’d composed and which his grandmother had encouraged him to play. One step at a time, Grace reasoned.

While Ryan went to fetch his guitar and notes, Grace got comfortable on the sofa in the seating area across from the kitchen. Stanley scampered after her and curled up on the new plush bed they’d purchased at the high street pet shop before they’d left for the beach that morning. The dog smiled up at her from the cosy upholstery, clearly enjoying his home comforts.

Ryan returned with his guitar and sat on the opposite sofa. After spending a few moments tuning the instrument, he looked up and gave her a cautious smile.

“This is just the first iteration of the song,” he said. “And I haven’t even recorded it yet to listen back and hear how it sounds, and…”

“Don’t worry about any of that,” Grace interrupted. “I’m excited to hear it.”

Ryan gave her another wary smile and then flicked open the notebook he’d carried through with him, before turning to a page scrawled in what Grace thought looked like musical notation. There were no words or lyrics to be seen, just indecipherable symbols and annotated codes.

Grace also noticed it was the elegant blue leather notebook his grandmother had given him yesterday, and it made her like him even more to know he’d chosen to use it, which would surely make Miriam happy.

Remembering the gift Miriam had given her too, Grace lifted her hand and touched the silvery stars she wore at her ears. Ryan looked up and smiled.

“Those earrings suit you.”

“Thank you.”

“They really catch the light.”

“I know. They’re very pretty. Now stop procrastinating and play your song for me.”

He laughed and nodded in acknowledgement that she’d sussed him out perfectly. After strumming the guitar strings a few times with his plectrum, he tapped his palm against the honey-coloured wood of the body to count himself into the song.

And then he began to play.

Grace listened in wonder as the music filled the room, the notes sweet and tender before shifting into a richer tone and tempo that made her heart soar in time with the soul-stirring melody. The transition between the chorus and the bridge—if that’s what it was called, Grace wasn’t quite sure—brought tears to her eyes on account of the beautiful music and the way it made her feel.

When Ryan finished playing, completing the rendition with a soft flourish across the guitar strings, Grace was in awe of his skill and talent.

“Ryan, that was so beautiful,” she said. “I’m completely amazed. I don’t know what to say.”

Dipping his head, he gave an easy shrug. “Like I said, it needs more work.”

“It sounded perfect to me. I loved it. Can I see the lyrics? I’d love to know how they go.”

“Er, I think the lyrics definitely need more work,” he said, and flipped closed the notebook in which the musical notes were written.

Grace was aware that not all creative types were keen on sharing the products of their imagination, but as Ryan wrote songs for other people for a living, she was surprised at his unwillingness to divulge any more of this piece with her. The music was so beautiful, she could only imagine how lovely the lyrics must be.

“Well, maybe you could play the song again and, er, hum the lyrics for me?” she said with a laugh. “I’d love to know how the vocal part goes. Please?”

She hoped her deliberately pleading expression would amuse him, but it only seemed to make him more uncomfortable.

“It’s okay, you can trust me, Ryan,” she said, and meant it.

“I know,” he said, and met her gaze. “It’s just that…”

The conversation only seemed to be getting more awkward by the minute.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, Ryan,” Grace said. “There’s something troubling you. I wish you’d tell me what it is. Maybe I can help?”

“It’s nothing. It’s just something inside my head. Some stupid thing.”

“I don’t mind hearing about stupid things. The more stupid, the better.”

Grace laughed softly and was relieved when the expression on Ryan’s face relaxed a little.

“Come on, Ryan. I thought we were learning about one another, finding stuff out, and getting to know each other.”

“We are. That’s exactly what we’re doing.”

“So, tell me about the ‘stupid thing’ that’s stopping you from sharing those lyrics with me, lyrics I’m sure must be incredibly beautiful.”

Ryan frowned, mulling it over. “It’s an old story from my past. I don’t want to clobber you over the head with ancient stuff, or my dumb insecurities.”

“I clobbered you over the head with my ancient stuff when I told you my reasons for chasing after a promotion at work. I shared my sad story. Now it’s time for you to share yours.”

Her voice was quiet as she spoke, and tender, too. A long beat passed as Ryan’s eyes gazed into hers, as if searching for something there. At length, he sighed and gave an unhappy shrug.

“Okay, well, here goes,” he said, still cradling the acoustic guitar across his body as if it was a shield. “The song I just played, I wrote it for you, Grace. I wrote it about you.”

Grace hadn’t expected him to say this. She thought he was about to dive into some awful story from his past. Instead, he’d uttered words that stole her breath away.

“And the reason I’m too much of a coward to sing the lyrics I wrote for this song is because of something that happened a long time ago and which I never really got over.”

Her mind was still caught on what he’d said a moment ago, about writing the song for her. After hearing the music he’d just played, the romance of it all left her speechless.

“You wrote a song for me?” she said, finally finding words somewhere in her brain.

“Yes,” he said simply. “You inspired me to write a song that could be the best thing I’ve ever created in my life.”

Grace thought she might fall off the edge of the sofa if he said anything else, or if he kept looking at her the way he was looking at her right now. But she understood that now wasn’t the time to feel overwhelmed by his admission, even if it did launch her stomach into a series of crazy somersaults.

He’d written a song for her?

Okay, yes, that’s what the man just said. But she needed to focus on what else he’d said, too.

Grace drew in a deep breath and assembled her scattered thoughts.

“I’m speechless and amazed and I can’t think of anything to say that makes sense,” Grace admitted. “You wrote that song for me, that song you just played, and…” She held up her hands. “We’ll come back to that once my brain is functioning properly again.”

Ryan laughed, and the soft sound of it reminded her of why she was here, why she was drawn to him, why she couldn’t seem to stay away from the man. Rising from the sofa, she walked around the coffee table and sat down beside him on the other side, and slipped her hand into his.

“Tell me what happened in the past,” she said. “Tell me about the thing that happened that you never got over.”

He set aside the guitar, leaning it against the coffee table. “It will sound so stupid when I explain it.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Ryan nodded, as if willing himself on. “When I was eighteen, I was a contestant on a television music competition programme. It was called The Next Big Number One . Do you remember it?”

Grace thought about it. “It vaguely rings a bell, but I don’t remember it exactly.”

“It only ran for one season. It was pretty terrible, to be honest, and it was done on the cheap. It didn’t have the huge budgets of the other big music competition format shows of the time, and it never produced any big number one songs, either, which, considering the name of the show, was a bit of a problem.”

Ryan laughed and then continued with his story. “Anyway, I was a contestant on the show during its one and only awful run. I’d just turned eighteen when I auditioned, and when I was chosen to go through to the finals, I thought it was the beginning of my big break in the business. The televised finals involved the contestants performing on stage for the judges and the studio audience. It wasn’t broadcast live, because there wasn’t the budget for that, but we all performed live on stage for the filming. There were eight finalists in the running, a mix of groups and solo artists. It was incredibly exciting to be part of something like that.”

Ryan smiled and then rolled his eyes.

“I was young and dazzled by it all. None of it was as professional and polished as I remembered thinking it was at the time. The judges were a bunch of D-list celebrities who didn’t really know what they were talking about, and the production team weren’t really interested in music so much as they were interested in creating waves with a television show and making money from the sponsors and the voting phone lines. Like I said, I didn’t see any of that at the time. I just wanted to play music.”

“Of course you did. Why else would you go on a music competition show?” Grace said kindly. “Were you there performing as part of a group or as a solo act?”

“I auditioned as a solo act but was put into a group with three other lads for the finals. They called us Four Score, which we thought was a terrible name, but it wasn’t up to us and we knew we had to trust the judges, trust the mentors, and listen to what they told us. The judge who mentored us said he wanted us to be the next big boy band, singing power ballads and catchy pop tunes. That all sounded pretty good to me. I was still amazed I’d reached the finals. I’d wanted to get into the music business since I was a kid, and although I’d played with bands while I was in school and all that sort of stuff, I understood how hard it was to get a big break. Now, here I was on this music show that might give me everything I’d ever hoped for.”

Grace saw the wistful look on his face as he spoke. She squeezed his hand, understanding that this story wasn’t going to have a happy ending.

“So, there I was, an eighteen-year-old lad with stars in my eyes and the idea that I was about to become the next big thing in the music business,” Ryan continued. “I had a decent voice and I could play guitar and piano, and I was writing my own songs, too. Being flung into a band with three other lads I’d only just met was a big adjustment, but that’s how these things happened back then. And the truth was, it was fun, at least to begin with. I’d be lying if I said we weren’t all having a laugh and enjoying ourselves. Of course we were. We were just kids.”

The wistful look was there again, as if he was reliving those days from long ago. Then he shifted on the sofa and cleared his throat, his expression turning serious.

“Anyway, we were two weeks into filming the finals on stage when the production crew found out that I’d become involved with another contestant on the show. Her name was Megan, and she was a singer in one of the girl bands that had made it into the finals. I liked her a lot and I think she liked me, too. We were caught up in this mad, unreal environment where everything was going at a thousand miles an hour. The emotions, the excitement of the show, the fact that we were both only eighteen… it was a heady mix that went straight to our heads. Well, it all went to my head, at least.”

Ryan fiddled with the guitar plectrum he was still holding, turning it over in his fingers before he spoke again.

“When the production crew found out we were seeing each other, they saw an opportunity to create some drama and publicity for the show. Two young wannabe pop stars who were in a new relationship and appearing on stage in a music competition to sing their hearts out? It was too good an opportunity to pass up. And maybe if they’d just tipped the tabloids off about our relationship and left it at that, things might have been fine. We would’ve had our photos taken and been chased around by paparazzi, because that’s what happens to young pop stars. I was smart enough, even then, to understand all of that, and I knew it wasn’t just about the music. But the production team took things to a completely new level in order to create controversy in the hope it would provide the ratings boost they desperately needed.”

Grace realised she was wincing, waiting for Ryan to reveal what had happened. If she’d watched the show all those years ago, perhaps she’d remember, but the programme barely registered in her memory.

That, she thought, was probably a good thing. She squeezed Ryan’s hand again, offering encouragement.

“The production staff and our group mentor took me aside and said they thought it was lovely that Megan and I were beginning a relationship together. They said they’d had an idea for what Four Score ought to sing in the next round we were due to film, and suggested we perform a romantic ballad with me on lead vocals, and at the end of the song, they said I should dedicate the song to Megan, to show her how much I cared for her. Then they suggested it shouldn’t just be any romantic ballad, but one of my own songs.”

Ryan shifted on the sofa, his expression troubled as he continued talking.

“They knew I wrote songs, and most of the crew had probably heard me playing between rehearsals and filming. The opportunity to perform a song up on stage that I’d written, not just for the judges but for the viewers and for any music producers out there who might be listening, well, it was an amazing chance. And the idea of singing a song just for Megan… well, that appealed to the hopeless eighteen-year-old romantic in me. I had a song I thought would be perfect, one I’d been working on for a while. Once the lads in the band were told we’d be performing a song I wrote, we all got stuck in to the rehearsals. They all seemed happy for me.”

Ryan paused and shook his head. Recounting all of this obviously wasn’t easy for him.

“I had no idea that the production crew had also been talking in secret to Megan,” he continued. “I only found out about all of this much later, but it turned out that Megan had also had a… ‘thing’ with one of the other lads in Four Score.”

Grace gasped, knowing the story was heading to a dark place, but not expecting this particular twist in the tale.

“They’d got together for a couple of weeks during the auditions, before the finalists were chosen, before there even was a band called Four Score in the competition. Whatever they’d had, it had fizzled out, but the crew had caught a glimpse of them together on some video footage and had realised they might have gold dust in their hands. The other lad, Ronnie, was the so-called bad boy in the band, while I was cast as Mr Vanilla, the nice boy next-door type. The production team convinced Megan that her long-term chances in the music industry would be far better if she was seen on the arm of someone like Ronnie, instead of someone like me.”

He let out a humourless laugh at this and shrugged. “Maybe they were right. Anyway, they told her there was no harm in being sure about who she had feelings for, and they also told her that the tabloids would be desperate to talk to her if she happened to be in the middle of a complicated love triangle. They suggested she should have a secret meeting with Ronnie, to find out if she still had any feelings for him, and that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for a few newspaper photographers to hang around in the background just in case things got a little hot under the collar between the two of them. She agreed.”

Grace scowled, immediately disliking this young female from Ryan’s past. Seeing her expression, he gave a knowing smile.

“And that’s exactly what the production crew wanted—a reaction,” he said. “It was easy to cast Megan as the villain of the piece, but the truth is she walked cluelessly into the trap they set just the same way as I did. We both got played for fools. We were kids, caught up in a whirlwind romance that was playing out in front of television cameras while we chased after our musical dreams, and because we were innocent and na?ve, the production crew manipulated us with ease.”

“That’s horrible, Ryan,” Grace said, hating that any of this had happened to such young people who were being moved around like pawns on a chessboard.

“Anyway, obviously I knew none of this before the band performed the song I’d written,” Ryan continued. “I sang the song, the lads did a brilliant job on the backing vocals, we just about managed to pull off the cheesy dance moves they’d taught us, and at the end of the song we got a big thumbs up from the production team who were supervising the filming and from our mentor, too. That thumbs up was my cue to tell Megan that the song was dedicated to her, while the floor crew filmed her reaction.”

Grace stayed quiet, although it wasn’t easy. The mounting tension in the story Ryan was sharing was unbearable. She knew it could only be headed towards disaster, but knowing that only made listening all the harder.

“So, I looked straight at the camera and said the words I’d rehearsed. ‘Megan, this song is for you.’ It was simple and straight to the point. In my head, I was thinking, how unbelievably brilliant and romantic is that? She’ll be blown away!”

Ryan’s sad smile turned into a resigned sigh. “Then I saw Megan’s face and saw her expression. The contestants all had to sit in a certain area near the stage, so their reactions could be filmed while the other finalists were performing on stage. Megan wasn’t smiling. She was mortified. And at first I thought she was mortified because I’d made such a public show about how I felt about her. But before I could get my head around it, the big screens behind the stage suddenly flashed, and the programme logo and graphics all vanished and a video clip started playing. We all looked up to see what was going on. And then I saw what that clip was showing.”

Grace realised she’d already worked it out. The terrible logic of the story could only lead to one place. With another cringing sigh, Ryan resumed the story.

“The video clip showed Megan and Ronnie kissing. Not just kissing, actually. They were all over each other. It was one of the shots the crew had caught way back during the auditions, in some gloomy corridor in one of the small theatres they’d hired earlier in the shoot. The hand-held, raw nature of the footage made it look clandestine and tawdry and underhand. And I just stood there, staring up at the screen, completely speechless.”

“Ryan, I can’t believe they did that,” Grace said, aching for him and the humiliation they’d put him through.

“Everyone in the studio was gasping and shouting and pointing at the screen. The production supervisor acted like it was some sort of technical mistake, but the film crew kept filming us all, me up on stage in shock, Megan jumping to her feet and crying, Ronnie looking sheepish but like he was actually sort of enjoying it all, too. A few moments after the video clip started playing on the big screens, it shut off again and the host of the show rushed onto the stage and took charge. The host apologised for what he said was a technical issue and closed the piece to camera. Someone shouted ‘Cut’, and then I was just running backstage.”

Ryan gave her a wry look and added, “Naturally, the cameras followed me. They filmed me rushing to the dressing room, slamming the door, all of it. It was perfect for them, just what they wanted. All I wanted was for a hole to open in the floor and swallow me up.”

“I’m so sorry, Ryan. What they did was horrific.”

“It got worse. We filmed the stage performances the day before the show was broadcast, and in my naivety I thought they’d surely cut out the segment where that video clip was shown up on the screen behind the stage. I was still dumb enough to believe it really was some sort of technical problem. During the hours that followed, I realised it was just one huge set-up, with me as the punchline. The producers said they couldn’t do anything about removing the video clip and my entire performance of the song I’d just sung would go out, including what happened at the end. While I was pleading with them to do something, anything, to edit it out, they were already in the editing suite splicing it together to make things look even worse.”

“How could they be worse?”

“Well, don’t forget they’d already convinced Megan to meet with Ronnie earlier that same day and talk to him about how she felt. With cameras rolling and tabloid photographers hiding in the shadows, the two of them had decided they quite liked each other after all and had ended up kissing again.”

“Oh, Ryan,” Grace said, utterly dismayed.

“The production team added that footage into the show, too. In the end, it all looked like some cheap reality show rather than a music competition, and I was the clueless idiot caught in the eye of the storm. Megan was caught up too, and although I defended her a moment ago because she was young and as easily manipulated as I was, she could have come to me after pairing off with Ronnie for a second time and told me she was interested in someone else. If she’d done that, I never would’ve dedicated the song to her up on stage. The crew might still have shown that video clip to create controversy and drama, but at least I wouldn’t have just put my heart on my sleeve only to be left looking like a complete fool, all while being filmed at the same time, just to give everyone watching at home a few cheap laughs.”

Even after all these years, the embarrassment on Ryan’s face was plain to see. Grace understood what it must have cost him to recount this awful story, and she squeezed his hand, wanting him to know she was listening, that she understood, and that she ached for the boy he’d been when all this had happened to him.

“So, in the end, they broadcast the show with all that perfectly crafted drama held back until the end of the programme for maximum effect,” Ryan said. “The tabloids had their juicy piece of flesh to feast on, and quickly turned us all into front-page fodder. The show got a huge ratings boost, just as they’d wanted. And I had no choice but to quit and go home.”

“Did the media chase after you?”

“For a few days. I just hid in my bedroom at my parents’ house and refused to leave. My mum and dad had never wanted me to go on the show in the first place, but I was an adult and they couldn’t stop me and I thought I knew what I was doing. They never said, ‘I told you so,’ and I was always grateful to them for that. If it hadn’t been for my parents and my sister, and my grandparents, all there to support me and help me keep my chin up, I don’t know what might have happened to me.”

A heavy silence settled on them, and Grace saw from Ryan’s face that he still contemplated how differently things might have turned out for him during that dark time if he hadn’t been able to rely on his family.

“What happened to the others once you left?” Grace said.

“Megan and Ronnie stayed in the show. They were both desperate for the big music career and desperate for the fame, and I think because they wanted the fame just as much as they wanted the music career, they soon made their peace with what had happened. Ronnie was never much bothered by the drama, actually. He was the bad boy of the show and up for that sort of thing. Megan might not have wanted the drama or the embarrassment of how things unfolded that day, but she realised she’d have to get on board with it and try to make it work.”

“What happened after that?”

“Megan and her girl band got voted off the show the following week once the tabloids turned on her and portrayed her as the tramp who’d played two lads off against each other for her own selfish gain. That wasn’t exactly what had happened, but no one was about to let the truth get in the way of a ratings opportunity. Megan had some minor notoriety for a few months and got sucked into the celebrity scene for a while after that, but she never had a music career. I found out a few years later that she returned to college and eventually got a job working in an office somewhere. It’s a shame, because she had a decent voice and could’ve had a decent career. Maybe she could’ve overcome the bad publicity and the way her name got dragged through the mud, but maybe not. In the end, I suppose she decided it wasn’t a price worth paying.”

He trailed off and shrugged.

“What about the other lads in the band?” Grace asked.

“They continued in the show as a trio. Ronnie took centre stage and loved it. The band didn’t win the competition, but Ronnie got a recording contract out of it and put out an album and a few singles. The songs weren’t particularly good, and Ronnie played the bad boy image just a little too hard for the record company’s liking. They eventually dropped him, citing poor sales. He did the celebrity circuit for a year or two, but soon vanished from the scene, just like everyone else on that show.”

“That seems like an awful waste.”

“Like I said, it was a terrible show and it failed to produce any big pop records or big musical acts. I think that’s why the production crew were so keen to play that stunt on Megan and I. The show was already tanking in the ratings, they didn’t know how to develop the musicians they’d put into the finals because they didn’t have the budget for it, and so they turned to shock value and drama in an effort to stop the ship from sinking.”

“You must have wished you’d never got involved with any of it,” Grace said.

Ryan nodded. “I was lucky that I had family and friends to support me, but it’s impossible not to be humiliated like that on television and just brush it off as if it never happened. I stepped away from music for a few years, because I’d lost all passion for it. But the thing I loved most, which was writing songs, that never went away, not completely. One day, I picked up the guitar and started playing, and it felt like coming home.”

Grace smiled at his words and the tenderness in his voice. “You were born to do this,” she said, gesturing to the guitar now propped up against the coffee table. “I’m glad you found your way back to it.”

“It helped that the show was terrible and only lasted one season before it got axed. All the stuff that happened ended up being little more than a flash in the pan. That’s not how it felt to me back then, but it’s how it was for the vast majority of other people who watched the show or heard about what happened. Time passed and news stories moved on and soon the whole thing was ancient history. Once I realised that almost no one remembered anything about a stupid tabloid story involving a bunch of teenagers on a crappy music competition show, I started to move on from it all. That’s when I began writing songs again.”

He smiled, his expression soft as he recounted the final piece of the story.

“It took a while to find the courage to put myself out there and connect with people in the industry who could help me become a proper songwriter, but once I did, things happened quickly in my career. Most serious people in the business only shrugged when they found out I’d once been a contestant on a music show, and almost none of them cared at all about the controversy and drama I’d ended up embroiled in, especially as none of it was my fault. All they cared about was that I knew how to write songs and that those songs turned out to be moneymakers for the musicians who recorded them.”

“Are you happy doing what you do now? Or do you ever wish you’d become a singer, and wish you could have gone down that route if it hadn’t been for that stupid show?”

Ryan shook his head, his response instant. “Not for one second. I love the life I have now and I love my work. The career of a recording artist is brutal, whether those artists are hugely successful or struggling at the bottom of the food chain or somewhere in between. That’s not the life I would’ve wanted. As a songwriter, I get to be part of an industry I love, writing songs and creating music and working behind the scenes, while enjoying an ordinary life free from the publicity and all the bells and whistles involved.”

An amused smile lifted his mouth as he added, “If I were being really optimistic, I’d say that what happened to me on that dumb music show actually turned out for the best, because it pushed me in a direction I might never have gone in otherwise, a direction that led me to where I am now.”

“That’s a healthy way of looking at it.”

“Every cloud has a silver lining. Having said that, I would’ve preferred that none of that stuff had ever happened in the first place. That was an unhappy time in my life, and…”

When he paused and dropped his gaze, Grace gave him a moment before pressing him further.

“And, what?” she said.

He blew out a long breath before looking back towards her. “I wish my last time up on stage hadn’t ended the way it did. I wish I could look back with happiness at the short time I spent as a performing artist, instead of burying those memories away because they’re so excruciating.”

“I can understand that,” Grace said, and meant it.

Ryan sighed and tilted his head towards the blue leather notebook lying on the table. “It took some courage to admit that I wrote that song for you, the one I just played.”

“After what you’ve told me, I can understand that, too.”

“I know you want me to sing the lyrics I wrote, but…” He looked up from the notebook and deep into her eyes. “One step at a time.”

“Understood,” Grace said.

His gaze held her for a long beat before he moved closer and dipped his lips to hers. The tender kiss filled her with yearning, and although she sunk into his embrace with a soft sigh, she couldn’t help thinking about the betrayed eighteen-year-old boy he’d once been and how that boy’s shadow still lurked within the man, waiting for the next humiliation to come and tear him to pieces.

What he’d gone through was nothing short of horrendous. That he’d come out the other side of such a humiliating experience and gone on to build a great life and a wonderful career, made her realise what sort of man Ryan Lewis really was.

He was a survivor, one who bore the scars of his battles with dignity, and whose emotions ran deeply because of them.

When their kiss ended, Ryan gave her a soft smile that burrowed all the way into her heart. She would have leaned close once more, wanting only to feel his mouth against hers again, but for the sound of footsteps crossing the floor upstairs.

“Sounds like Grandma is up from her evening nap,” Ryan grinned, and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Let’s save the rest of this until I walk you home tonight.”

The promise in his words made her want that moment to come sooner rather than later.