Hamish and Kate Read online

  Some time later, after very little conversation, Euan felt almost back to normal except he and Helen were sitting in her stationary car bare-legged and wearing underpants, watching the incessant, incoming tide.

  Helen was grief stricken.

  ‘I almost killed the world’s most popular composer,’ she sobbed. Tears welled in her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid,’ she blurted out. She struck the steering wheel with the palm of her hand.

  Euan laughed, he couldn’t help it. ‘The what?’ he said. ‘What did you call me?’

  Helen smiled and her tears progressed no further.

  ‘Well,’ she said, a little brighter. ‘You know. Maybe a little bit of exaggeration.’

  ‘I reckon,’ Euan said.

  He couldn’t help himself, at that moment he really liked Helen. His worry for her happiness made him instinctively lean over and kiss her. It was a chaste kiss, he had thought it the quickest way to cheer her up. She returned his quick kiss with a sustained one, her arms wrapped around him allowing no escape.

  Not that flight was on Euan’s mind.

  Chapter 8

  Euan often stayed over night at Helen's place in London. In the early mornings, as they shared her bed, he would watch her sleeping face gain definition in the strengthening light. He would list her imperfections. There were not many although she was marginally less attractive than Clare and substantially less than Kate. He would watch her breathing and be annoyed that he was not in love with her as if it was her fault.

  Some evenings, when Euan had not planned to be with Helen and was alone practising guitar, he would hear a hesitant knock on his door. It would be Helen with an excuse that meant she had to see him. Euan would, of course, let her in. She would stay the night. As she was jumping on top of him he would look at his guitar standing in the corner of the room and wish, guiltily, that he had spent the evening alone.

  Euan felt sad for Helen, as if she had fallen into an unscrupulous trap. That made a guilty Euan try harder to please her, which made her need for him increase, which caused him to wish she was absent more often. The cycle wove itself tighter.

  They spent most days and nights together. He was her work as well as her love. She was excited after their short absences and her enthusiasm made Euan melancholy, as compassion does. He was flattered and smothered and at low moments saw himself married to her because he never found a way out. However, he didn’t want to end their relationship. Not then. Helen suffered only in comparison.

  Euan and Helen lived in an atmosphere of pseudo-married life except often ending the day with sex. On the days that were free from music activities, and with Helen driving, they would head out to narrow, wooded country roads in search of snow scenes. Euan would ask her to stop at places of silence. He would investigate perfect mounded forms of snow, digging through them to know what caused those perfect smooth, exaggerated shapes. It was never more than a simple irregularity of a fallen branch, and often less. Euan would also suggest travel to beaches. He imagined the heat and the crowds of summer but, at that time of year, the sand was deserted. Euan never fully believed the miracle of snow on a beach. He would pick the snow up and look from his hand to the water and at the sand and remember a childhood where the beach was always warm. There were many perfect winter days that could have been summer, except for the cold. Those were days with no clouds and a light offshore breeze holding up tiny waves.

  Euan dragged Helen everywhere in his enjoyment of the white, cold weather, although that weather was normal to her. His enjoyment depended on Helen's participation. He frolicked unselfconsciously on the beach and in the snow.

  We can be embarrassed doing silly things on our own but not in company or with a sympathetic audience. Helen was embarrassed by Euan’s awkward enjoyment. She would look out of the corner of her eyes, as if no-one could see her doing that, to make sure no-one was watching or if they were, that she did not know them. Only then, if the coast was clear, would she join Euan’s playtime.

  Chapter 9

  As the year moved towards the Northern summer, Euan and Michael resurrected their Bach duo. When the band had days off in London, the two of them played smaller venues, often a coffee house or wine bar, in the afternoons and evenings. Euan daydreamed, while performing, that he was back in New Zealand and Kate was sitting in the audience listening to them play. Her eyes only on him.

  ‘Everyone loves your classical guitar thing,’ Helen said to Euan one evening in bed.

  ‘It’s fun,’ he said noncommittally. He was busy reading an article in a science journal. The mathematics Euan read as a matter of course, confused Helen like he was reading another language. She did not understand what there was to read in symbols and obscure terms.

  ‘I’ve had an idea,’ she said.

  ‘You have brilliant ideas all the time,’ he smiled at her and went back to reading.

  ‘I mean to really help market the band,’ she said tentatively.

  ‘That’s great Helen,’ he said. ‘But you should talk to Michael about marketing. That’s his thing, not mine.’

  ‘I thought I should ask you first,’ she said.

  ‘Nope,’ he said. ‘If Michael agrees then I agree. Just do it. I’m sure it will be awesome.’

  ‘OK then,’ she said.

  Helen had not intentionally deceived Euan but she had withheld details. She would approach Michael saying, truthfully, she had Euan’s blessing. She felt a little proud of her deception. Euan had been offered a chance to interrogate her and had refused.

  ‘Actually,’ she began again. Euan was disgruntled at the interruption, Hankel functions were difficult enough without constant interruptions.

  ‘Yes,’ he said impatiently.

  She smiled, she had chosen the moment of resistance successfully.

  ‘Doesn’t matter,’ she said, knowing that it would.

  ‘Go on,’ he said.

  ‘I might just organise my idea a little bit, so that it’s closer to a definite plan before I present it to Michael. Would that be a good idea? Or should I get Michael to do all the work?’

  ‘Helen,’ Euan said with exasperation. ‘You’re great at your job. Do we have to say that every time? Go ahead, organise stuff, I’m sure it will be wonderful. Is that all?’ He leant over and kissed her. His action worried him, it felt like they were an old married couple.

  She kissed him back. ‘Goodnight Euan,’ she said as she lay down and rolled away from him to sleep. He could not see her smile. Her idea was wonderful, she knew that, but it would not please Michael.

  Chapter 10

  ‘You idiot! What the fuck have you done?’ Michael had burst into Euan’s room. He had not knocked beforehand.

  ‘What have I done? Nothing.’

  ‘I thought Auckland Town Hall was hard enough for you. And you’ve gone and done this? Why didn’t you ask first?’

  ‘Ask what?’ Euan was confused and then angry at Michael’s outburst.

  Michael stared at Euan as if he was sub-human. His language nonsensical. He shook his head and wandered out into the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of beer. He shut the door hard and headed back towards Euan’s room. The surprised expression on Euan's face proved his ignorance. Michael returned to the refrigerator and retrieved another bottle. He sat down next Euan and passed a bottle to him. He opened his and took a long drink, as if he was satisfying a deep thirst.

  ‘We’re really fucked. I should have stopped you screwing Helen. It was my fault for bailing at Christmas. If I’d been there…’ He took another long drink.

  Euan was perplexed. ‘What’s she done?’ Then he was defensive. ‘It’s not my fault, whatever it is.’

  Michael stared, not quite seeing Euan.

  ‘You’d better get practising,’ Michael said.

  ‘Practising what?’

  ‘Guitar, you dickhead. What do you think? More practice screwing Helen? Actually, she needs to be screwed. A lot.’

  Euan removed
the top from his beer and took a small drink.

  ‘Two weeks. We’ve got two fucking weeks. It’s not enough time,’ Michael said. ‘Why did you let her organise it?’ He asked Euan again, forgetting the other’s denial.

  ‘Organise what?’

  ‘The Royal Albert Hall. Two weeks. Us.’

  Chapter 11

  Euan was not as nervous as he expected as he waited before their performance at the Royal Albert Hall. Perhaps he was used to large audiences. And the critical crowd no longer bothered him, he had tasted success. He thought of Kate as he waited. Maybe because she wouldn’t be in the audience meant it didn’t really matter. No performance did without her.

  Helen placed a consoling hand on Euan’s shoulder. She was more nervous than him. He smiled and then kissed her. She needed consoling. She had had a rough time at the hands of Michael during the prior two weeks. He had been angry and worse, at times he had ignored her.

  She was convinced her idea was sound, the marketing potential enormous. The exposure from performance, good or bad, would be immense. Her boss at the management agency had hugged her when she presented her plan, booked and confirmed. He wondered why he had not thought of an idea like that himself. However, she worried about Michael's displeasure. She felt like a martyr. Sad at personal loss but uplifted by the greater good achieved.

  She felt an arm around her shoulder and a voice whispered menacingly in her ear.

  ‘I hate you Helen.’ It was Michael. ‘But, this was an awesome idea. Thank you.’ He kissed her on the forehead, like she was a child. It was the first embrace of any kind he had given her. It simultaneously unsettled her and made her euphoric.

  She smiled at him, but Michael stared through her with a blank look as if he was elsewhere.

  They performed well, not their best but not their worst. The audience applauded enthusiastically at the conclusion.

  Michael held his hands up to bring the applause to a premature end.

  ‘For those of you who may not know, or who have been on another planet for the last year.’ The audience laughed. ‘We’re well known for another little piece of music.’ Michael waited for another round of applause to end.

  Euan was confused, Michael had not mentioned anything about an encore, and that appeared to be what he was leading towards. Euan had stood to take the applause, but he quickly sat down again.

  Michael turned away from the crowd and spoke quietly but with authority. ‘Put your guitar down, Euan. This is your punishment. Be embarrassed.’

  Michael addressed the audience again.

  ‘Clare’s not here, but,’ he began and the audience laughed and cheered.

  Euan was horrified, he thought Michael was going to humiliate him. For a horrible uncontrolled moment, he envisaged Kate making an entrance, and Helen striding across the stage in anger and jealousy. Kate, and Helen, would hate him forever.

  ‘As I said,’ Michael repeated once the noise had reduced, ’Clare’s not here but we’ve got two others instead. Euan,’ he pointed backwards without looking. ‘The composer.’ He had to wait until the applause died down again. ‘And someone more able. Enjoy.’

  Michael sat down as Jon appeared from off stage carrying his own high chair. As he placed it in the centre of the stage, a technician raced out with a microphone and stand and placed it before Jon.

  Michael played the opening chord to Clare’s song and the audience erupted, like they were part of a rock performance. Michael expected that the encore he and Jon had secretly planned would be well received. He was right.

  Michael and Jon played a beautiful version of Clare’s song. Euan had not heard it like that since he had first played it for Jon, before there were lyrics. Michael was a better guitarist and the performance was wonderful. The main theme was repeated and was sung in full voice by the crowd, like it was a Prom night.

  Euan listened while many eyes were upon him, all knowing he was the composer of that music. It was the proudest musical moment of his life.

  Chapter 12

  The weather again cycled to cold and Euan received word from Woods Hole. His position was available, funded and ready for him to begin. He only had to obtain his work visa and provide an arrival date.

  Dreaming of a joyous event is pleasant unlike the messy actuality of implementation. Euan was worried about leaving and about breaking ties but mostly about recriminations and anger.

  His resolve faltered, but for one moment only. He thought of the consequences of not leaving.

  ‘You’ve been extra distracted,’ Helen said. ‘Even for you.’

  Euan stared blankly at her.

  ‘You’re reading,’ she said. ‘All the time. That weird maths stuff. I don’t understand the interest.’

  She smiled diffidently, knowing she was not expected to understand his interest in mathematics but she was worried at Euan’s odd mood.

  ‘Sorry, Helen,’ he said.

  He had thought of running away. Not saying goodbye. It was an easy solution in isolation. But he could never do that. All the same, he did not know how to begin the conversation he had to have with her. His fear of embarrassment plagued him. He did not understand why. He had lived through extreme moments, the first Auckland concert was a case in point. He thought surviving, and surviving well in most cases, those embarrassing moments would make embarrassment impossible in social situations. Surprisingly, not. He was able to battle through and ignore the embarrassment but each time it was a trial. He no longer endured the agony of inactivity, as when he vacillated about asking Clare out for the first time, as with greater experience he acted quickly but his fear remained.

  He would be embarrassed running away from Helen and Michael, and attempting an explanation would also be difficult. He had some deep seated need for approval but never felt that approval, from anyone, friend or foe, was what he wanted. He resigned himself to a quirk of genetic makeup and like any other blemish, he accepted and worked around his problem.

  He saw the worry on Helen’s face. He thought that he probably loved her and was on the verge of saying so.

  He didn’t want to hurt Helen, but he must hurt Helen. His idea of an easy relationship that would be simple to dissolve was naive. It had nearly been a year and she had outlasted comparison with Kate. His memory of the real, physical Kate was fading but she remained as a platonic, therefore perfect, ideal. Clare and her stop-over boyfriend in Hawaii flashed into his mind but he angrily dismissed the comparison. He was in love with two women, he was just in love with one of them a bit more.

  He took a deep breath. He had to begin. His visa had been approved, he had picked it up the previous day. All that remained was to buy a plane ticket and telephone Woods Hole with a date. He could not delay, if his plan was to progress at all.

  He stared at Helen as he exhaled. She stared back quizzically. He made up his mind to tell her for no reason other than some conversation was required.

  ‘I have to go,’ he said quickly.

  Helen groaned. There had been the first snowfall outside of London. Her initial, instant thought was that he meant he wanted to go and play in the snow. She had hoped the last cold season had cleansed that need from him. However, she quickly realised he was talking about an absence.

  ‘Go where?’

  ‘Go,’ he said softly.

  ‘Well, you can’t go far. We’re playing in Berlin next week.’ She considered herself one of the band.

  ‘I know,’ he said.

  ‘Well, what do you mean?’ she said with a rising panic. His sadness was contagious.

  He quickly grabbed her hand, hoping his touch would help.

  ‘I’m going to the States.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘We’re not ready for that market, Euan.’ Her panic faded but now she was angry. She thought Euan was taking over her job and he was off to begin marketing the band in the USA. ‘You can’t just go there. It takes planning, logistics, lots of organising. I haven’t even thought of that market yet. There’s still too m
uch to do here. Europe is waiting. And it’s closer. And it’s cheaper.’

  Euan sighed. ‘I have to go and see someone. It’s not music related.’

  Now she was worried for him. Perhaps a friend was in dire need.

  ‘Do you need me to do anything,’ she squeezed his hand. ‘If I can help,’ she said quietly. ‘I will.’

  Euan could not say the real reason to Helen’s face. The threat of embarrassment swamped him. He was annoyed at his weakness.

  ‘Thanks Helen,’ he said and felt awful.

  ‘How long will you be away?’ she asked. ‘Do you want me to come?’

  Euan became angry, at himself, at her compassion. He was silent for a moment.

  ‘No, there’s nothing you can do,’ he said. ‘It might take awhile.’

  ‘What about the band?’

  ‘Michael doesn’t know yet,’ he said and then laughed. It was short and bitter. ‘They don’t really need me to play stuff. I just add a few things, a bit of colour now and then.’

  ‘Euan,’ she said abruptly. ‘Don’t be silly.’ However, she could not disagree with him. He was technically correct. She was glad that he had told her before Michael. She believed it was a positive sign in their relationship.

  ‘So how long do you think?’

  ‘Awhile,’ he said. ‘Quite awhile. Maybe.’

  Euan informed Michael on the morning of his flight. Michael took him to the airport, but could not stop him.

  Euan left behind a selfish mess of tangled relationships and discarded people. He believed he had no choice. He could have been too easily convinced to stay.

  Honesty, undertaken too early, would have been used against him.

  Part 5

  Chapter 1