A Note of Madness (18 page)

‘You know what, I’d actually rather we didn’t listen to any music right now,’ Jennah said suddenly. ‘Why don’t we go and see if Harry needs a hand?’

‘No, no, come here, come here, you’ve got to come here—’ He grabbed her arm and pulled her down onto the carpet beside him. ‘You’ve got to help me find it. It could be anywhere. It could be right at the back. This could take a very long time—’

‘I’ll help you in a minute, OK?’ Jennah said, pulling away. ‘I’m just going to see Harry.’

Reluctantly, Flynn let her go and dived back under the table.

Sometime later, he felt someone kick his leg. He emerged from beneath the table to find Harry standing over him.

‘I’m very busy,’ Flynn replied. ‘You’ll be impressed. I’m arranging them alphabetically – by artist, not by title. Actually, by artist’s last name, then first name, then title.’

Harry’s eyes were narrowed. ‘Why the hell are you
trashing the living room? We’re about to sit down for dinner!’ His voice sounded almost angry.

‘OK, OK, I’ll finish this later.’ Flynn got up and followed Harry. But the thought of the half-finished pile of CDs made him feel on edge.

In the kitchen, Kate and Jennah were seated at the table, deep in conversation. They broke off quite suddenly as Flynn and Harry came in.

‘Oh, wow, this curry smells of beer. What did you put in it, Harry?’ The sight of the curry made him want to laugh again.

Harry gave a small sigh, raised his eyebrows and started to dish up.

‘Who wants another beer? What are you girls drinking?
Coke?
Oh, for goodness’ sake. Another beer, Harry?’

‘No, thanks. And you’d better go easy, Flynn.’

‘Why? I think being hungover for the concert tomorrow would be an excellent idea. What was it you said, Jen? Too hungover to care? But, hey, being drunk would be even better. Then I can roll my head and sway about like flaming André and I’ll actually look the part!’

Kate laughed. Harry and Jennah did not.

‘Oh, you two are unreal,’ Flynn protested. ‘So serious! It would be funny if I was drunk, wouldn’t it, Kate? Then I’d trip on the steps, start playing “Chopsticks”, and fall off the piano stool.’

‘Tuck in, guys,’ Harry said, passing out the plates. ‘Don’t let it get cold.’

‘Yeah, cold beer curry, horrible!’ Flynn exclaimed.

Harry gave him a long-suffering look.

The curry was actually quite nice, despite the beer. Kate started talking about some presentation she was giving at her Music Theory class the following week and Flynn struggled to suppress the urge to laugh. A sense of unreality had descended over him. The table, the meal, Harry, Kate and Jennah, the darkness gathering behind the half-open window, the muted strains of Mariah Carey on the stereo. He took a deep breath – how could he have considered leaving all this when there was so much? It was working, it was actually working – a wild sense of crazy well-being was shooting through him. Even though he was still on his first beer, he felt drunk – the kind of drunk that makes you want to climb onto the table and swing from the chandelier and sing and dance.

Jennah was talking, fiddling with a strand of long brown hair as she spoke. The deep flush of her lips stood out against her pale skin. Her knitted green jumper was a little too long in the arms, the sleeves almost covering her hands, the colour matching her eyes. She looked so beautiful, it hurt. How could he fail to embrace life, to absorb all this beauty, to revel in the fact that he was alive on this gentle evening in May with all his life ahead of him, stretching out like a blank canvas, waiting, ready . . . ?

Twenty-three hours to go; he had passed the
twenty-four-hour mark without even realizing it. But it was of little importance now, for the world was a stage and its people merely players. They were acting here, they would be acting tomorrow, and for every day that followed. Actors in a beautiful play – a play where life was good, a play that knew no fear, nor pain, nor sorrow. The despair could not touch him now, he would not let it touch him again. He would play the game, he would not seek more. This was enough, this was more than enough. He was lucky to be alive . . .

Harry put down his fork. ‘I think I should propose a toast.’

They raised their glasses.

Harry’s eyes met Flynn’s and he gave him a little smile. ‘To the worst kitchen assistant but undisputedly the RCM’s greatest pianist, best of luck for tomorrow, not that you’ll need it.’

‘Cheers!’ Jennah and Kate exclaimed together.

‘Thanks,’ Flynn said.

They put down their glasses and resumed talking again, but it was difficult to make out what anyone was saying. The air seemed to be filled with a loud, thick hum and the room had begun to blur around the edges. Flynn didn’t seem to be able to distinguish what he had just been thinking from what he had just been saying. The thoughts and words and words and thoughts were getting all jumbled up in his head. Had he thought to himself that Kate was going to mess up her presentation or had Kate been saying she was afraid she was going to
mess up her presentation? Had he been thinking how much he wanted to kiss Jennah or had he told Jennah he felt like kissing her? Suddenly he needed to move, to get away, to knock over all these people and kick down the walls. But if he did that, then the ceiling would collapse and they would be crushed right here, where they sat. Great chunks of brick and plaster would come tumbling down – they would be knocked unconscious first, then covered with white powder as the blood ran down from their temples. Who would be the first to die? Flynn looked up at the ceiling. He realized that he didn’t even need to move to make the walls crumble. His thoughts were powerful enough. The light shade had already started to sway.

Jennah touched his arm, making him jump. ‘What are you staring at?’

He looked at her, his eyes wide. She was smiling, unaware, unafraid. He did not know how to tell her. Harry and Kate were talking blissfully. He did not want to scare them. He whispered something to Jennah.

‘What?’ With a tentative smile, she leaned in closer.

‘I think we should go,’ Flynn said.

A look of surprise. ‘Where?’

‘Next door. This room’s not safe.’

Jennah started to smile, then stopped. ‘What do you mean?’

He looked meaningfully up at the light shade and then back at her again. With a puzzled look, Jennah raised her eyes. The light shade continued to sway.

‘Do you mean that light shade? I don’t think it’s going to fall, Flynn.’

Flynn gave a barely perceptible shake of the head. ‘Not the light shade, everything.’

Jennah began to smile again. ‘Is this your idea of a joke?’

‘No, you’ve got to believe me. Come on, if we go the others will follow.’ He got up and grabbed his plate and glass. Jennah stared at him, then slowly stood up too.

‘Hey, where are you going?’ Harry exclaimed.

There was a silence. Harry and Kate were staring at them. Then Jennah suddenly said, ‘We thought we’d be more comfortable next door, it’s – it’s a bit cold in here.’

Harry looked disbelieving. ‘Is that meant to be a hint or something?’

‘No, no, you’ve got to come too,’ Jennah said quickly.

Flynn could tell they were exchanging confused glances but he could not wait any more.

In the living room they gathered around the coffee table on the couch and armchairs, balancing plates precariously on their laps. Harry was looking perplexed and staring at Jennah. ‘Shall I lend you a jumper or my jacket?’

‘No, no – in here it’s fine.’

If one ceiling gave way, wouldn’t the next one fall too? Flynn looked up at the light shade. It was still. As he looked down, his eyes met Jennah’s. She glanced away, but not before he had seen the fear in her eyes. She
knew they were in danger too. He could not eat any more, adrenaline coursed through his veins. The orange glow of the streetlamps reached the tall windows. One more night. Would he survive? Could he survive? He might smash everything to pieces. He might just end it all, right here, right now.

Harry and Kate were chatting again. Jennah was gazing strangely at him, oddly subdued.

It’s all right
, he wanted to tell her,
we’re safe in here. I won’t knock down the walls
. But he was not,
could
not, be sure.

‘So what are we up to tomorrow night?’ Harry suddenly asked.

Jennah looked over at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, after the concert,’ Harry explained. ‘We’re going to have to do something to celebrate, don’t you think?’

‘We could go to a club!’ Kate exclaimed.

‘Why don’t we just chill out with pizza and a DVD?’ Jennah suggested.

There was a pause. ‘What do you want to do, Flynn?’ Harry said.

Flynn shrugged. People, more people, but tomorrow would never come. They were talking about after the concert, not before it. The concert was the bridge. He would have to cross it in order to reach the other side.

‘What if it goes badly?’ he said suddenly. ‘Then we won’t have anything to celebrate.’

Harry looked up in surprise. ‘It’s not going to go badly.’

‘You don’t know that.’ Harry’s optimism was suddenly infuriating. ‘What, do you have some kind of ability to see into the future? You actually have no idea how it’s going to go, do you? You have absolutely no idea at all.’

‘It’s going to be fine,’ Harry said.

‘Stop saying that – you don’t know!’ He was aware of his voice beginning to rise. ‘You don’t know because it’s got nothing to do with you!
You
don’t have to do anything,
you
don’t have to think about anything!’

‘Hey!’ Harry protested. ‘What are you trying to—?’

‘You’re right, Flynn, he doesn’t know,’ Jennah said hurriedly. She took a deep breath. ‘Harry just thinks – we all just think it’s going to go well because we know how good you are. But you’re right – we don’t know what’s going to happen. And if it doesn’t go as well as you hoped, then we’ll still celebrate. It’s not as if any of us have ever been asked to play at the Albert Hall, so we’ll still be impressed, whatever happens.’

Flynn felt the heat rush to his cheeks. ‘But you won’t be impressed, you won’t be impressed!’ He began to shout. ‘The third movement is a complete mess. I’ve got no control – I let the music run away with me and my fingers can’t keep up. You try and play a piece you’re crap at in front of three thousand people! You try and
then
tell me what it feels like!’

‘Flynn, I’m sure you’re not—’

‘No, no! Don’t say I’m not crap at it because you
don’t know, you don’t bloody know! You’re just saying what you think is the right thing to say, you don’t care about the truth!’

‘But I’m not – I didn’t mean—’ Jennah broke off suddenly, her eyes filling with tears.

‘Leave it, Jen. He’s going to go off on one whatever we say.’ Harry’s voice was infuriatingly measured. He put his hand reassuringly over Kate’s.

‘Don’t bloody patronize me!’ Flynn yelled at him.

‘Back off, Flynn, you’re so going to regret this tomorrow,’ Harry said.

‘You think I care about tomorrow? I don’t give a shit about tomorrow! I don’t give a shit about anything!’

‘Fine. Then how about you stop shouting for a minute because at this rate you’re going to give us all a headache.’

‘Maybe you’re just a bit nervous about the concert,’ Kate suggested in a rather high-pitched voice. ‘That’s – that’s normal.’

Flynn ran his hands savagely through his hair. ‘I’m not nervous!’ he shouted desperately. ‘I’m not nervous about anything! I don’t care about anything any more!’ Furiously, he jumped up. He had to move, had to throw off this horrific feeling before it overpowered him again. ‘Nothing matters,’ he said, walking aimlessly around the room. ‘You’re wrong, you’re wrong. Nothing matters!’

Jennah’s face was pale. ‘That’s right, Flynn, it doesn’t matter – nothing matters that much. Just don’t think about it. You can only do your best.’

‘My best, my worst, my in-between. Nobody knows, you don’t know, I don’t know.’ He gave the bookcase a vicious kick and then another. ‘It’s up to the music – it’s always up to the music!’

‘Kate, Jen, why don’t you go and finish eating in the kitchen,’ Harry suggested, his voice infuriatingly calm.

The girls took their plates and left hurriedly.

‘You hate me, don’t you?’ Flynn said raggedly. ‘You hate me because that’s the second time I yelled at you today.’

‘No, I don’t hate you. I’m just worried about you.’ Harry leaned against the closed door, eyes wide behind his specs. ‘What the hell is going on?’

‘Why are you worried? You’re thinking about tomorrow, aren’t you? You’re worried about tomorrow!’

‘No, I’m worried about you right now!’

‘Why? Why? What’s going to happen to me right now? People are in danger, everyone’s in danger all the time. I thought the ceiling was going to fall. It’s not going to fall, is it? Because if it is, you’ve just told Jennah and Kate to go back into the kitchen and they’ll be killed—’ He paused, gasping for breath. ‘And then if the ceiling collapses in there, we’ll be next, d’you realize that? Do you? If one ceiling goes, they’ll all go and we’ll be crushed by the bricks and our skulls will be smashed to pieces and we’ll all die!’

Harry moved towards him, hands raised. ‘Jesus, Flynn, calm down. No one’s going to die!’

‘You don’t know that! You’re not God, you don’t
know anything!’ He had started to shout again, he could not help himself. The walls seemed to be closing in and everything seemed shrouded in a sinister haze. The blood burned in his face. It seemed impossible that any of them would survive. ‘Nobody knows anything. We’re all pawns in someone else’s game! You can only pretend not to care, pretend not to care about anything! And it’s all a lie – everything’s just a lie!’

‘Why don’t you stop pacing and sit down for a minute?’ Harry suggested. ‘I’m going to give Rami a call—’

‘Don’t you dare do that again!’ Flynn grabbed the phone out of Harry’s hand and flung it against the wall before Harry even had time to begin dialling. There was an almighty crash.

Harry looked vaguely stunned. ‘Don’t get violent—’ he began, his voice faltering. Then the door opened and Jennah appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide with fright.