- •Crooner
- •I told him I didn’t want to impose, but there was now something gently insistent about Mr. Gardner. “No, no, sit down. Your mother liked my records, you were saying.”
- •I thought he wasn’t going to answer. In the dim light, his figure was just this hunched-up shape at the front of the boat. But as Vittorio was tying the rope, he said quietly:
- •Vittorio had stepped up onto the quay, but Mr. Gardner and I kept sitting in the darkness. I was waiting for him to say more, and sure enough, after a moment, he went on:
- •Come rain or come shine
- •I couldn’t remember the last time Charlie had asked my help for anything, but I managed a casual nod and waited. He played with his menu for a few seconds, then put it down.
- •I have to admit I was rather moved by this. All the same, I could see there was something not quite right here, something he wasn’t telling me.
- •I went up to him and said: “Charlie, I don’t think it’s going to work.”
- •I decided it might be best not to respond this time, and for a few moments we waited quietly for the kettle to boil. She prepared a cup for me, though not for herself, and placed it in front of me.
- •I should have thought of this before. How much time do you have left?”
- •I reached down to the fallen standard lamp, but Emily restrained me.
- •I wasn’t sure if Emily’s puzzled look was due to what I was saying, or still left over from gazing at the saucepan. She sat down next to me and thought for a moment.
- •I felt a sharp tug on my shoulder.
- •Malvern hills
- •I waited for him to sense what he’d walked into, but if he noticed, he showed no sign of taking it into account. He smiled at his wife and said, presumably for our benefit in English:
- •I leant over the strings and practised another little phrase to myself, and for a few seconds nobody spoke. Then I asked: “So what sort of music do you guys play?”
- •I stared at Maggie, for a moment quite speechless. Then I said: “You’re talking such rubbish. Why are you talking such rubbish?”
- •Nocturne
- •In answer to her question, I told her the toughest part for me was not being able to play my sax.
- •I had to reassure her some more that I’d had a good time and that I’d come back. Then as I was going out the door, she said:
- •I did calm down then for a while, and I gave a brief account of how Lindy had asked me over, and the way things had gone.
- •I looked at the board, trying to remember where we were. After a while, I asked gently: “Maybe that particular song, it has special associations for you?”
- •I didn’t know what to say, and before I could think of anything she was talking again.
- •I sat down on my usual sofa and watched her fussing with the hi-fi. The lighting in the room was soft, and the air felt pleasantly cool. Then “The Nearness of You” came on at high volume.
- •I was puzzled, but got to my feet. As I went to her, she pulled off the handkerchief and held towards me a shiny brass ornament.
- •I wandered further into the room and threw the torch beam around some more. “Maybe this is where it’s going to happen. Where they’re going to give Jake his award.”
- •It occurred to me I was losing my grip. I said quickly: “Okay, I’m out of line. I’m sorry. Now let’s go find this office.”
- •I felt the soft material of Lindy’s night-gown brush against my back. Then she’d taken my arm and we were standing side by side.
- •I could sense the security guard shift behind us.
- •I tugged at Lindy, but she seemed now to be seized by the oft-cited mania of criminals to flirt with being caught.
- •In the centre of the room was a bulky shape with a sheet draped completely over it. Lindy went to it like it was an old friend and flopped down tiredly.
- •I went up to the first dome and carefully raised it. Sure enough, there was a fat roast turkey sitting there. I searched out its cavity and inserted a finger.
- •I stopped and she didn’t say anything for a long time. Then she said:
- •Cellists
- •It was unusually warm that afternoon. He’d come to the hotel as usual, and begun to play for her some new pieces he’d been preparing. But after barely three minutes, she made him stop, saying:
I looked at the board, trying to remember where we were. After a while, I asked gently: “Maybe that particular song, it has special associations for you?”
She looked up and I sensed anger behind her bandages. But she said in the same quiet voice: “That song? It has no associations. None at all.” Suddenly she laughed-a short, unkind laugh. “Oh, you mean associations with him, with Tony? No, no. It was never one of his numbers. You play it very nicely. Really professional.”
“Really professional? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean… that it’s really professional. I mean it as a compliment.”
“Professional?” I got to my feet, crossed the room and got the disc out of the machine.
“What are you so mad about?” Her voice was still distant and cold. “I say something wrong? I’m sorry. I was trying to be nice.”
I came back to the table, put the disc back in its case, but didn’t sit down.
“So we going to finish the game?” she asked.
“If you don’t mind, I’ve got a few things I have to do. Phone calls. Paperwork.”
“What are you so mad about? I don’t understand.”
“I’m not mad at all. Time’s getting on, that’s all.”
She at least got to her feet to walk me to the door, where we parted with a cold handshake.
I’VE SAID ALREADY how my sleep rhythm had been screwed up after the surgery. That evening I became suddenly tired, went to bed early, slept soundly for a few hours, then woke in the dead of night unable to go back to sleep. After a while I got up and turned on the TV. I found a movie I’d seen as a kid, so pulled up a chair and watched what remained of it with the volume down low. When that was over I watched two preachers shouting at each other in front of a baying audience. All in all, I was contented. I felt cosy and a million miles from the outside world. So my heart just about jumped out of my chest when the phone rang.
“Steve? That you?” It was Lindy. Her voice sounded odd and I wondered if she’d been drinking.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“I know it’s late. But just now, when I was passing, I saw your light on under your door. I supposed you were having trouble sleeping, just like me.”
“I guess so. It’s difficult keeping regular hours.”
“Yeah. It sure is.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Sure. Everything’s good. Very good.”
I realised now she wasn’t drunk, but I couldn’t put my finger on what was up with her. She probably wasn’t high on anything either-just peculiarly awake and maybe excited about something she had to tell me.
“You sure everything’s okay?” I asked again.
“Yeah, really, but… Look, sweetie, I have something here, something I want to give to you.”
“Oh? And what might that be?”
“I don’t want to say. I want it to be a surprise.”
“Sounds interesting. I’ll come and get it, maybe after breakfast?”
“I was kinda hoping you’d come and get it now. I mean, it’s here, and you’re awake and I’m awake. I know it’s late, but… Listen, Steve, about earlier, about what happened. I feel I owe you an explanation.”
“Forget it. I didn’t mind…”
“You were mad at me because you thought I didn’t like your music. Well, that wasn’t true. That was the reverse of the truth, the exact reverse. What you played me, that version of ‘Nearness of You’? I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. No, I don’t mean head, I mean heart. I haven’t been able to get it out of my heart.”