Page 96 of Not Just for Christmas

‘They won’t have too long to wait, I’ll be heading into the recording studio in spring. And – exclusive news – I might even record it in the UK this time, who knows.’

My stomach pitched; I’d recognise that soft American accent anywhere. I glanced at the display; it was Melody Parker on the afternoon show for Boom Radio.

‘And I guess you’ll be touring the new album once it’s released?’ said the presenter.

‘Maybe not. Things have changed for me recently and I think maybe I’m ready to do something different.’

‘It’s Uncle Dylan!’ Sam gasped. ‘Can you turn it up?’

Gladly, I thought. The farmhouse felt empty without him there. I missed him already and wished he was here in person to come to this event with us. But in the absence of that, it was good to hear his voice.

‘That sounds exciting, and brave!’ Melody replied. ‘But surely you don’t mean you might disappear from the music scene?’

‘Is Uncle Dylan going to disappear?’ Sam demanded fearfully. ‘I want him to stay with us.’

‘No, Sam,’ I laughed. ‘He’ll be back home tomorrow. And he’s just said he might be working in England for a while.’

Dylan was speaking again. ‘… I was talking to a special someone recently and saying that the hardest part of a new journey is taking the first step and leaving your comfort zone behind you. I think maybe I should start taking my own advice.’

‘Interesting. And is this new and different direction something we might be seeing on social media right now?’ asked Melody. ‘I’ll read this press statement from the Epic Network in America, Star Quality US the brand-new reality music talent show being filmed in California next spring, is thrilled to announce that superstar Dylan Wilde will be head judge.’

My ears pricked up. That was the TV show that his manager was talking to him about last night. I thought Dylan had turned it down. Obviously not.

‘It says that?’ Dylan gave a bark of laughter.

‘Superstar? Of course!’ Melody gushed. ‘I mean, you’ve literally just said that you want to promote new music next year, I had no idea you’d be springing this news on us!’

Me neither. I felt unaccountably disappointed. So much for him wanting to take a step back from the limelight. If anything, this would propel him further into it.

From the back of the car came the sound of tears. I glanced in my rear-view mirror. Sam’s face had turned red and there were tears on his cheeks.

I snapped off the radio. ‘Darling, what’s the matter?’

‘I asked Uncle Dylan to stay forever but he’s going to America,’ he sniffed, his bottom lip wobbling. ‘That’s made me sad.’

‘Oh Sam,’ I said, my heart breaking for him. ‘I’m sure he would love to stay at Merrydown with us, but his work is very important to him.’

‘More important than us?’ he asked in a small voice.

Good question, I thought. I didn’t blame Dylan for accepting the job, it was an amazing opportunity. But he couldn’t pretend that we were more important to him than his music; actions spoke louder than words.

‘I tell you what,’ I said, dodging the question. ‘Shall we ask him to come and stay again soon?’

Sam wiped his tears. ‘Yes, please.’

‘But this time I’ll do the inviting,’ I said sternly.

‘OK, Mummy,’ he said with a giggle.

‘Now, we’re almost there, so shall we sing a song to get in a Christmas mood?’

‘OK. Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer …’ Sam sang.

I joined in at the top of my voice, and thought back to Dylan’s words of a few moments ago. He’d mentioned ‘a special someone’. That could be me. We’d been talking about comfort zones in the barn last night.

And he was special to me too.

Ever since he’d arrived, one day early in a whirl of luggage and lost phones and miscommunication, my heart had been a little lighter, my sleep a little deeper, my happiness a little … happier.