Page 58 of Never Too Late
‘The doctors tell me it’s going to be a long haul. I’m starting on an intensive course of physiotherapy, but they’ve warned me not to expect an immediate improvement.’ Keith paused before delivering the bad news, and they could all hear the emotion in his voice. ‘In fact, they’ve warned me that there might be no improvement at all.’ He looked around at them, the anguish in his eyes all too clear. ‘I may never pick up a guitar again.’
‘Don’t say that, Keith. It’s still early days. Give it time.’ Ben was quick to offer reassurance and the others all joined in, but Keith waved them away weakly with his right hand.
‘We’ve got to accept the facts, guys. It was a serious stroke – so serious it almost killed me – and it’s probably going to be many months or even years before I get back to some sort of normality, if at all. What that means is that we need to make the big decision: what happens to Royalty?’
The others all looked at each other for a moment or two before Ben spoke up. ‘Listen, Keith, I’ve been thinking, and one thing’s crystal clear: Royalty without you makes no sense.’
Keith shook his head. ‘Nobody’s indispensable, Ben. There are some great guitar players out there. Just like Steph came along and replaced Vince so perfectly, you could find a replacement for me. I think we… you owe it to the fans to keep going.’
‘I don’t buy it. You aren’t just lead guitar; you’ve written most of the songs, you’ve always been the leader on stage and off – and you pissed us off a fair bit while you were at it – but you and Royalty are one and the same. It’s unthinkable to have the band without you.’
Johnny added his voice to Ben’s argument. ‘I’m with Ben on this. We’re none of us getting any younger, Keith. Let’s face it; none of us needs the money any more. We’ve got more than enough to see us out. The new album’s getting great reviews and that concert last week was one of the best gigs we’ve ever done. I say let’s sit back and wait for you to recover, and if you don’t, we’ll at least know we’ve gone out on a high.’
Keith took a few moments to weigh up his response. ‘So you’re saying we pull the plug on Royalty?’
‘Not pull the plug – just put it on hold for now.’ Johnny looked convinced. ‘What does Sol say?’
‘You can probably guess. He feels Royalty should carry on with or without me. If I can’t play, you get a replacement. I can’t say I blame him; we do represent a huge part of their turnover.’
‘Yeah, but we’ve been effectively shut down for the last ten years and they’ve kept going all the same and made a whole heap of money out of our records. They’ve got a load of other artists. If we decide to walk away, they’ll survive.’
Keith nodded a couple of times. ‘What about Steph? She needs to have a say in this.’ The three men looked across at her. ‘You’ve only just joined the band, Steph. It’s unfair for us to do you out of what would have been a hugely successful career. If we do as Ben and Johnny are saying, you’re going to find yourself out of a job for months, years, maybe forever. If you guys find a replacement for me and let Royalty carry on like Sol wants, the sky’s the limit for somebody with your talent. What doyouthink we should do?’
Steph replied immediately. She had been thinking about this over and over again in the course of the week and she threw in her weight alongside the other band members, feeling sure that this was the very best solution not just for Keith, but for her personally.
‘If you want my opinion, I know Royalty will go on forever. Music’s like literature: Shakespeare’s been dead for five hundred years, but we all still know him and his work, and his plays are still performed all around the globe. It’s the same with music. Look at Mozart: he died over two hundred years ago but his music lives on and his name’s more famous now than it ever was when he was alive. I’m delighted and honoured to have contributed to the recent album, but I agree with Johnny and Ben; there’s no way you could or should ever be replaced. Like the others say, do what you three did ten years ago after Vince’s death: put Royalty on hold and see how we all feel in a year, five, ten years’ time. I’m confident you’ll regain the use of your arm, and you’ll start playing again and when you do, we’ll be with you. Even if you can’t play properly for now, you can still keep writing songs and when you feel up to it, we can get back together and start up again. No Keith, no Royalty.’
She saw Faye shoot a grateful smile at her and that same hint of a smile appeared on Keith’s face before he had one more try. ‘But that’ll mean you’ll be out of a job.’
Steph beamed at him. ‘That’s not going to be a problem. I’ve already had another job offer.’
All eyes in the room turned back towards her in amazement and Steph savoured the moment for a few seconds before explaining. ‘Rob’s been looking for an accompanist and he thinks I’d be up to it. I can’t think of anything better.’
Faye’s eyes lit up. ‘Does that mean you’d move to Italy?’
‘Your son’s very kindly offered me a place in his house.’
‘You’re moving in together? Isn’t that a bit soon?’ Keith looked surprised but not displeased.
‘That’s what I said to him, but he was adamant. As for me, I just know it’s the right thing to do.’
The delight on Faye’s face was a joy to see and there were tears in her eyes as she turned towards her husband and caught hold of his hand. ‘After everything that’s happened over the last few days, I can’t imagine better news.’ The tears started running down her cheeks as she looked back across the room. ‘Steph, sweetheart, you’ve no idea how happy that makes me feel. Right, Keith?’
This time there was definitely more than a hint of a smile on Keith’s face.
Epilogue
Steph flew across to Pisa next morning and took the train up to Sarzana. She deliberately hadn’t told Rob she was coming as she wanted to surprise him, so she took a taxi and got the driver to drop her at the start of the gravel track so she could walk up to his house. It was a cold, dry day and the air was so clear she could make out the individual houses on the hillside far away on the north side of the Gulf of the Poets. All around her the olive trees were strung with netting to catch the falling fruit and it looked as though the olive harvest was in full swing. There was the familiar aroma of cypress resin in the air, and she breathed deeply. It all felt so familiar and so very welcoming. The smile that had been on her face most of the way over on the plane now broadened. It felt like coming home.
She had only just started lugging her suitcase towards the house when she was greeted by a familiar face. A large black shape came careering towards her and almost bowled her over, such was his delight to see her again.
‘Ciao, bello.’ She crouched down and made a fuss of the Labrador before straightening up and reaching for her suitcase again. A voice from among the olive trees stopped her.
‘Buongiorno, signora, can I help you with that?’ Rob emerged and caught hold of her hands, pulling her into his arms.
Steph stared lovingly up at him. ‘Signor Sinclair? I’m Stephanie Zanin, I’d like to accept your kind offer of employment as your new accompanist.’
He grinned at her. ‘I look forward to working with you, Ms Zanin. I’m sure you’ll be perfect for the job. If you’d like to accompany me to the house, I have a grand piano waiting for you.’ His grin broadened. ‘You should have told me you were coming. I could have picked you up. Anyway, you’re here now and that’s all that matters. Can I offer you a coffee?’
