A Note of Madness (28 page)

‘Just answer the question.’

‘Leave me alone!’

‘Do you fancy her?’

‘Stop asking me that!’

‘Oh my God.’ Rami was trying not to smile. ‘You’re
in love with her
, aren’t you?’

‘I don’t know!’

‘Of course you know. Are you?’

‘I hate you!’

‘Are you?’

‘Yes!’ Flynn yelled at the top of his voice. ‘I am! Happy now? Satisfied? Since I first met her. I’ve been in love with her since we first met! What the hell did you
think
?’

FLYNN LAY FACE
down on the sofa, a burning cigarette between his fingers. He felt wrung out, exhausted; the sleeve of Rami’s UCL sweatshirt was soaked with tears.

‘I hope you realize that Sophie has a nose like a bloodhound,’ Rami said, a smile in his voice.

‘Are you going to give me some Valium then?’ Flynn said thickly.

‘No.’

‘Then I’ll smoke every last cigarette you’ve got.’

Rami laughed. Then there was a silence. ‘What do you think you’re afraid of?’

Flynn just shook his head.

‘It’s being vulnerable, isn’t it? It’s admitting that you want something, someone, and that you might not get her.’

Flynn dragged his sleeve across his face. ‘I
have
wanted someone, for seven fucking years. Do you have any idea what that’s like?’

‘I can imagine,’ Rami said. ‘But now that she wants you, it’s too late?’

‘She’s gonna find another Charlie.’

‘Not if you ask her out, she won’t.’

‘I can’t go through that again.’

‘Wanting but not getting? Do you honestly think that’s the answer, to go through life never wanting anyone, just in order to avoid getting hurt?’

‘It’s worked so far, hasn’t it?’

‘Has it?
Has it?
’ Rami’s gaze was hard, almost fierce.

Flynn looked down at the floor.

Rami said, ‘You won’t find happiness by hiding from life, Flynn.’

After a while, Rami got up and went into the kitchen to make some more coffee. When he returned, he handed Flynn a steaming mug and a small, chipped pill.

‘What the hell’s this?’

‘Three hundred milligrams of lithium,’ Rami said. ‘Half your usual dose. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.’ He smiled.

‘I’d rather have some Valium,’ Flynn said.

‘But I’m the doctor.’

Defeated, Flynn put the pill on the back of his tongue and swallowed it with a mouthful of scalding coffee. ‘Here’s to never wanting to get out of bed again,’ he said.

‘No,’ Rami countered. ‘Here’s to getting reacquainted with your own feelings. Here’s to being able to want, without being sure you’re going to get. To risk being hurt and to risk being rejected. Here’s to
life
.’

Flynn raised his mug with a small, tired smile. ‘Cheers,’ he said.

Half an hour later, the phone sprang into life. Rami went to answer it in the kitchen. When he returned, a pale dawn was beginning to touch the living-room curtains.

Rami said, ‘You’d better have a shower and make yourself look respectable. We’re going into London. Someone spent the night with a friend and is now safely back home. And I think you owe her an explanation.’

Jennah lived with her mother in Aldgate in a house that looked smaller than Flynn remembered. He had chewed off most of his thumbnail by the time they had crossed London and the sun was already high in the sky, drying out the puddles from the night before. Rami pulled up without turning off the engine and looked at Flynn expectantly.

‘How can I explain—?’ Flynn began.

‘You’ll find a way.’

‘What if she never wants to see me again?’

‘I don’t think she’s one to give up so easily.’

Jennah’s mother opened the door, looking tired. ‘I was half expecting you.’

Flynn felt the heat rush to his cheeks. ‘Can I talk to her?’

‘You can, though I should warn you that we’ve
just had words, so she won’t be in the best of moods.’

Flynn went upstairs and knocked on Jennah’s bedroom door.

The door opened halfway and Jennah stood there, leaning against the wall. She looked pale and calm and painfully pretty.

‘Oh, it’s you.’

Flynn took a deep breath to speak, but she cut him off. ‘Flynn, I tried to talk to you yesterday. I’m all out of words now . . .’

‘I know,’ he said quickly, desperately. ‘But – but I’m not.’

Her expression didn’t change.

‘It’s my turn now,’ Flynn said.

There was a moment’s hesitation. Then Jennah stepped back from the doorway. ‘OK,’ she said.

Jennah sat cross-legged on her bed. Flynn sat on the chair, hands on his knees, fighting the urge to bite his nails. Jennah just looked at him. There was a long silence. He didn’t know where to start.

Jennah finally gave him a hint of a smile. ‘Don’t look so scared.’

He gave a small, embarrassed laugh.

‘I’m sorry if I worried you last night,’ Jennah kicked off helpfully. ‘It was childish and stupid, I know.’

‘You really did worry me,’ Flynn said without looking up.

‘Sorry.’

‘OK, well I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have shouted at you. I behaved like an idiot.’

Jennah gave a wry smile. ‘You’re right about that.’

Another long silence. ‘Well at least we’ve cleared that up,’ Jennah said brightly.

Flynn looked up desperately. ‘There are some other things I need to tell you too.’

‘What?’

‘You know this – this thing I’ve got?’

‘Bipolar disorder? That’s manic depression, isn’t it?’

He nodded. ‘There’s this medicine I’m supposed to be taking,’ he began awkwardly. ‘It was making me feel really crap. So I stopped taking it and I sort of got ill again and I was feeling really shitty when you came round.’

‘You stopped taking the lithium?’

He looked at her in surprise. ‘Yes.’

‘And now?’

‘Now I’m taking it again. I guess – I guess I do need it. I thought—’ He took a deep breath. ‘For a while I thought maybe it was all a mistake – maybe I was just overreacting to things and just needed to exercise a little more self-control. And . . . well . . . it turned out it was bigger than that. It turned out that I needed the medicine after all.’

She gave him a long look. ‘Are you going to keep taking it?’

‘I suppose I am.’

‘Are you going to get better?’

‘I honestly don’t know.’

There was a silence. ‘It’s bad luck,’ Jennah said suddenly.

‘What d’you mean?’

‘The bipolar. I mean, it could have happened to anyone. It could have happened to any of us. But it happened to you.’

‘Yes.’

She smiled suddenly. ‘Shall we go downstairs and have something to drink?’

He looked at her. Say yes and he would be off the hook. Say yes and they would be back where they started, just good friends, safe and comfortable, the way it had always been. Say yes and they could put all this messy business behind them and relax. Say yes and he could breathe again and life would be easy . . .

‘No.’

Jennah looked at him in surprise.

‘I – I – you know that thing that happened in the pub?’

‘When I kissed you?’ Jennah gave a wry smile. ‘Couldn’t we just put that behind us now?’

‘Well no – well, the thing is, I actually made a mistake. I mean that— What I mean is, I reacted the opposite to how I felt— In other words I reacted to it in a way that wasn’t exactly in line with—’ He broke off, breathing rather fast.

Jennah was looking at him, a small smile hovering on her lips. ‘What are you talking about?’

Flynn looked at her, his face burning. ‘Can I – can I just try explaining that again?’

Jennah smiled uncertainly. ‘OK.’

He looked at her and took a deep breath. His heart was going like a sledgehammer. ‘What I was trying to say was just that – was just that I – um – despite my reaction, I really liked the fact that you kissed me and I really wish that you would do it again, or – or that maybe I could . . .’ He looked at her dizzily.
God
,
if I’m supposed to die, now would be a good time
.

Jennah stared at him. Then she bit her lip, holding back a smile, her eyes very bright. ‘Really?’

He nodded, reeling.

‘Well then,’ she said and swallowed. There was a pause. ‘Well then,’ she said again. ‘I think that this time it’s only fair to point out that it’s your turn.’

‘OK’ He looked at her, frozen. ‘OK.’

Jennah smiled. ‘OK,’ she echoed.

He got up. Went over to the bed and sat down next to her. Cupped her cheek in his hand. Leaned forwards. Closed his eyes. And kissed her.

Jennah twisted a strand of hair tightly around her little finger and looked anxiously at the slowing traffic ahead. She took Flynn’s hand off the steering wheel to look at his watch for the third time.

‘We’re OK,’ he said.

‘I know.’ She wrinkled her nose and turned away, drumming her fingers on the armrest.

‘Stop it,’ Flynn said with a smile. She gave a small laugh. ‘Sorry.’

Flynn released the clutch and edged a few inches closer to the brake lights in front.

Two months had passed, the summer was drawing to an end and already the days were getting shorter. Jennah glanced at the suit on the back seat.

‘Shoes?’ she asked suddenly.

He gave her a meaningful look.

‘OK, OK, I’ll stop!’

He put his hand over hers.

They swung into the car park. Flynn flashed his pass at the attendant and they were waved through. As they
pulled up under the shadow of the London Eye, Jennah got out, pulling her shawl around her. Flynn gazed at her over the bonnet of the car. She looked breathtaking in her long crimson dress, her hair pinned up, tiny pearls hanging from her ears. Her black shawl fluttered in the early evening breeze.

Flynn took his suit and shoes from the back seat and slammed the car door shut with his foot. Jennah held out her hand, her eyes sparkling once again with excitement. They made their way under the bridge, towards the long flight of steps, and Flynn suddenly stopped dead, staring up at the huge mass of grey-stone building towering above them.

Jennah squeezed his hand. ‘OK?’

‘Mm.’

‘Terrified?’

He nodded, his mouth dry.

She smiled. ‘Then you’re fine. That’s exactly how you’re supposed to be feeling. I must confess, I’m a little terrified myself!’

He took a shaky breath, still staring at the long flight of steps ahead. ‘Here goes.’

‘Wait – did you remember to take your meds?’

‘Right before we left.’

‘OK.’ She let her breath out slowly and then surprised him with a kiss. ‘You’re so cute with your hair all gelled and spiky. You know, all I’m going to be thinking when you’re on that stage is that
I
get to take you home with me tonight.’

He smiled. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’

He laughed. And took her hand and went up the steps to the Royal Festival Hall.

The applause was heavy and went on for a long time. When André finally came off the stage his face was pale, beads of sweat lining the creases on his forehead.

‘Thank God that’s over,’ he mumbled to no one in particular.

Flynn stood up and offered his hand. ‘Well done.’

André accepted the handshake with a wry smile. ‘Were all sixty-three split notes noticeable?’

‘Not to me.’

‘Oh well then, perhaps there’s still hope. When are you playing?’

‘After this one.’

‘Well, good luck. Oh, and in case I don’t see you before the end, I was wondering if you and Jennah wanted to come out for a drink with me and Rachel afterwards.’

Flynn raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘OK.’

‘Great. See you later.’

Flynn sat, elbows on knees, squeezing his stress ball to warm up his fingers and staring at the ground. His heart began to hammer again as he realized that the Chetham’s girl, Amelia, had already started the second movement. He tugged at his bow tie and tried to swallow. He noticed a scratch on the side of his
well-polished shoe and rubbed at it distractedly with a bitten-down fingernail.
Dear God, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t need to win – I just want to get through this . . . Just get me through this
. . .

He was jolted by the sound of applause.
Already?
The guy with the headset had his hand on the red curtain, ready to let Amelia through. Flynn gripped his knees, his fingertips with their bitten-down nails white against his black trousers. He tried not to look up as she came in, long dress rustling.

‘Do I have to go back out?’ she asked the headset guy, sounding flustered.

‘Yes, just one more bow. Ready? One, two and—’ The red curtain was twitched back again and Amelia stepped back out into the bright lights.

A shiver of terror rushed through Flynn and he inhaled deeply and tilted his head back against the wall. The applause died and Amelia rustled back in, her cheeks aglow, and disappeared down the corridor.

‘Ready?’ the headset guy said to Flynn.

Flynn looked at him and nodded numbly.

The guy beckoned him over. ‘OK, nothing to worry about,’ he said, taking hold of the top of Flynn’s arm with an iron grip. ‘There’s no rush. Take your time walking on and remember to adjust the stool. And try to enjoy it out there!’

The tuning was beginning to die away. Flynn stared down at the floor. The headset guy peered through the gap in the curtain. ‘OK, here we go. One, two and—’

The red curtain disappeared. Strong, hot lights blinding him. Five polished wooden steps to the stage. A mass of black backs and black music stands in front of him. A narrow pathway ahead of him through the orchestra, leading to the conductor’s rostrum and the piano. He went up the steps. Made his way between the chairs and stands. The conductor smiled at him as he approached. He reached the piano. To his right was the dark mass of audience, stretching back and up, further than his eyes could see. Somewhere out there were Mum and Dad and Rami and Sophie and Harry and Jennah.

He sat down at the piano. Adjusted the stool. Felt for the pedal with his right foot. Touched the keys. The applause died away. Nothing but the pounding of his heart. He sat still, resting his hands in his lap. Then looked up at the conductor and nodded. The conductor turned back to face the orchestra and raised his arms. A moment of screaming silence, then the music started. The soft, simple, two-note introduction to Rachmaninov’s Third Piano Concerto rose from the orchestra. Flynn returned his gaze to the piano. He lifted his hands and started to play.