Chapter 31

Doctor Melinda Fielding was also among the very, very few people who called him Christopher. He wasn’tsure why, but he didn’t mind it from her.

Years fell away like snowflakes melting. Mel’s voice, and himself with a problem. This time he knew he needed help. This time he was asking.

More accurately, Mel was asking. “Is there something you’d like to talk about? Can you tell me how you’re feeling right now?”

Oh. He knew why she’d assume as much, and he wasn’t bothered about it, but—“No. No, shit, sorry, notme, someone else—I need advice, right, I’ve got—ah, a friend—I need to know what to do. To help.”

“Your friend wouldn’t be forty-three years old and suffering from fears about his musical legacy, would he?” Dry, but kind; Mel wouldn’t let him get away with anything, but she would also stay on the line in the middle of the night.