Page 11 of Musical Games
‘Okay,’ he began. ‘Please ensure all noses are blown before the performance commences.’
Everyone laughed. Fiona got out of her seat next to Jamie and Sam sat in it, angling her body towards his. He could feel the heat from her knee almost touching his. Had he ever felt this good?
‘Okay, I’m filming in three, two, one, go!’ cried Zoe.
Jamie paused, asking with his mind if she was ready. She nodded and he started playing. The first time around their singing had been a discovery, the meeting of strangers for the first time. Now it was the song of soulmates. Jamie had never been so confident, so sure what he was doing was right and he was singing with the right person. The rest of the world faded away once more as their voices wrapped around each other, tighter and tighter. On the second chorus, her knee touched his and a zing shot through him, completing the circuit between them.
Part of him drifted out of his body, watching them together. Watching her as their music filled the room. He saw his smile. The happiness shining from him. It was like seeing himself for the first time. As they sang the final words his heart overflowed.
I love you. I love you.
The words came from his heart, unbidden as the final notes faded away. He stared at Sam as the room filled with a cacophony of screams and cheers. She looked at him uncertainly.
No, no, no, no.He stood abruptly, putting his guitar away as Sam was engulfed by all the other women in his life. Panic kicked and bit inside him. He had to get out. Now.
‘I’ve got work in the morning. I’ve got to go to bed.’ He left the room and strode through the kitchen, giving Duncan a terse ‘goodnight’ before jogging up the stairs.
He made it into his room, slammed the door and slumped to the floor, his back against the side of the bed.What the fuck?His breath was ragged, his hands clasped in front of him so tightly the knuckles were white.
He tried to control his breathing, but each time he breathed out, panic throttled him, forcing him to suck in another breath. His head was spinning, lights flashing behind his eyes.Come on, Jamie!he screamed at himself. His chest tightened and he lost control, falling to the floor on his side, his muscles spasming. Rolling, blinding fear ran roughshod through him, so painful it felt like death.
He forced his eyes open, trying to focus on the wall as the edges of his vision turned black. His breath was laboured as he fought to stay conscious.
The light narrowed to one tiny point, then vanished. The only things left were the pain in his body and the sounds of him gasping to stay afloat.
Then there was nothing left at all.
The last sense togo was always his hearing and it was the first to return. Everything sounded fuzzy as if he were underwater. He heard murmurs of voices and laughter from downstairs, doors opening and closing as people moved into the kitchen. His own heartbeat and breathing were now almost imperceptible. He listened to Zoe leave, then Fiona and Duncan with Liam. His mother moved around the kitchen, laughing with Sam. Then he heard their footsteps on the stairs, whispers outside the bathroom, the taps going, the toilet flushing. Eventually there was a brief silence before the low rumble of snoring started from his mother’s room. He let out a sigh, feeling the movement of air past his lips, the carpet against his cheek. He unclasped his hands and stretched out his fingers. Everything was stiff and uncomfortable. He pushed himself up and sat on the edge of the bed, staring into space.
You don’t love her. You can’t love her.
He dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was exhausted. Whatever had happened this evening he'd been completely unprepared for it. It couldn’t happen again. He shucked off his clothes and crawled into bed, facing the wall and the direction where Sam was lying just a few feet away.
You can’t do this.
He rolled over, turning his back on her, and forced his eyes to shut.
4
Jamie woke to the distant sounds of his mother yelling his name. He’d been convinced he was already awake, reliving the previous evening in jagged and disjointed moments, but his mother’s urgent voice cut through and dragged him into reality. His sheets were twisted around his limbs and he flailed about to pull himself free.
‘I’m coming!’ he yelled as he chucked the bedclothes to one side, ran out of the room and down the stairs.
‘Son, get dressed. One of the trucks for the film has crashed into Mrs McCreedie’s house. Zoe’s called the police and the fire brigade, but you have to get up there and help Rory get her to ours.’
He nodded and ran back up the stairs, colliding at the top with Sam as she came out of her room. In the panic, for a brief moment, he’d forgotten she was in the house. Now he was standing in front of her only wearing his boxers. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she was dressed in a tight vest and shorts with a Disney cartoon of Stitch and the words ‘cute but crazy’ on the front. He leapt back as if scorched and slammed his bedroom door behind him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
He pulled on his jeans from the night before and ran back into the corridor. She was still there, her cheeks pink. He ignored her and rushed down the stairs, pulling on his boots and running out the back door.
The early morning air was a cooling balm for his fevered skin. He ran up the high street towards the castle, trying to push all thoughts of Sam out of his head. She’d been in his life less than twenty-four hours and he’d totally lost the plot. The sight of her in that pyjama set had been more powerful than snorting Viagra. Why couldn’t she be like her character, Bethany? Or Kirsten Bjorkstrom? Why did she have to be so…her? Striding down the hill towards him was Rory, the six-foot-five Earl of Kinloch. Half mountain, half warrior and all Zoe’s. He was holding a bundle of bedclothes topped with a grey-haired head and met Jamie with a nod.
‘Good morning, Mrs McCreedie,’ Jamie bellowed.
She frowned at him. ‘Jamie, ma boy, I’m slightly deaf, not dead.’
‘Sorry,’ he replied, his cheeks heating.
