Page 113 of Musical Games
‘Rory? Delighted?’
She grinned. ‘In a gruff, manly way, of course. So, are we going shopping?’
‘Yes, I thought we could pop into Inverness, although there’s also someone I’d like you to meet.’
‘Ye-es?’
His heart beat faster. ‘You don’t have to do anything. There’s no expectation. Just meet him and have a chat.’
‘And who ishe?’
‘Campbell King. He owns an independent record label called Ness Records. I met him a week ago to see what our options might be for the future.’
Sam smiled, but her eyes were liquid.
He grabbed her hand. ‘You don’t have to, it was just an idea.’
She shook her head and brushed her tears away.
‘No, I do. I want to. Thank you, Jamie. Thank you for not giving up on me.’
Campbell King livedin a large detached house outside Inverness. It was a dark grey stone building, but inside it was light and airy with high ceilings and bright colours. Campbell was in his sixties, tall and heavy-set, with a shock of curly red hair that was gradually retreating from his forehead. He was full of energy and greeted them like long-lost friends, pulling them inside a large room which served as his office. The walls were lined with framed gold discs and posters of the artists who were signed to his label. Jamie watched Sam looking at them as he tried to work out what she was thinking.
‘Sam, it’s a real pleasure to meet you. The music you and Jamie have written is right up my Strasse, so to speak. Let me tell you a little bit about myself and what I think we can do for you.’
Jamie sat back as Campbell talked, intertwining his fingers with hers when she reached for him. He’d heard it all before, but a repeat performance only solidified his opinion. Sam asked the same questions he had, then more of her own. Within half an hour, she was leaning forward in her chair, being as animated as she could whilst refusing to relinquish her hold on his hand.
They leftCampbell’s house after a couple of hours and despite the lack of sleep the night before, Sam’s excitement levels were through the roof. He loved her energy. He loved listening to her. He just loved everything about her. He’d been sleepwalking through life, and she’d dragged him kicking and screaming into a technicolour world of possibilities.
After food shopping they headed home and started dinner. His mum had specified rib of beef with Yorkshire pudding, veg and gravy, and a chocolate roulade. He’d already made the flourless sponge and it was wrapped around greaseproof paper to retain the shape. Making food with Sam was like making music – an effortless creative dance of harmony.
As people started to arrive, his nerves reared their head. Would they treat him differently? Would they take the piss? Did he have to stop touching Sam in front of them?
He needn’t have worried. Everyone seemed to take it in their stride that they were now together, and he even sensed his mum was relieved. They all crammed around the dining table and Morag held her hands up as the cue for them to take the hand of the person next to them. Everyone closed their eyes.
‘Dear you upstairs. Bless this family and bless this meal. Thank you for all your divine interventioning this year. If I may be so bold, you’ve surpassed yourself. You’ve taught our Jamie how to cook without burning the house down, and persuaded Sam to take him off my hands…’
Jamie opened his eyes to see Zoe and Fiona grinning at him. He shook his head.
‘You saved the castle and made sure Liam’s first word was most definitely “Nana”.’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ Fiona mouthed.
‘But above all that, you over-delivered blessings by sending me my Scottish stallion, Jim…’
Jamie and Fiona rolled their eyes as Zoe and Sam bit back laughter.
‘For he truly is the full package with the big package—’
Rory opened his eyes and looked askance at Jim, who, save for Morag, was the only person with their eyes still closed.
‘So, as we’re clearly in your good books, if you’ve got any more gifts to share, the winning numbers for the lotto would be lovely.’
Everyone closed their eyes again as Morag finished.
‘Thanking you in advance and keep safe in your love those who are no longer with us. Amen.’
A squeeze rippled through everyone’s hands and they opened their eyes. Morag handed Jim the carving knife.
