Page 57 of Musical Games
He was gesticulating like a conductor on amphetamines and spouting superlatives like an out-of-control thesaurus. For only the second time in her life, she was lost for words. Luckily Brad was supplying all the words anyone could ever need and then some extras he appeared to have made up on the spot.
‘Man, you squeezed that fucking lemon till the pips squeaked. It was so sick it was fa-sheezy. Man, my fucking heart stopped.’
He punched the middle of his chest so hard she wondered if he was attempting defibrillation.
‘You got me here!’
Jamie was still seated and Brad pulled him to his feet, holding him and Sam together as if fusing them together for life with the power of his touch. His dark eyes flicked between them, holding them prisoner.
‘I’m not just saying “hell, yeah” to the two of you. No.’ He broke off and shook his head, his nostrils flaring. ‘You’re getting a “fuck, yeah” from me!’
Sam was only barely taking in what he was saying, but the gist was he thought they were the best thing since sliced bread and wanted their music inBraveheart 2. She managed to stammer her contact details to his assistant, then Brad was on his way, high-fiving everyone as he swaggered through the pub.
She turned to Jamie and they stared at each other.What now?Before she could reach him, the crowds piled on, separating them. Suddenly she was back being Bethany fromElm Tree Lanewith people wanting selfies and some of the more confident and inebriated men taking their tops off and asking her to autograph their chests. She usually didn’t mind dealing with fans, but right now she needed to know Jamie was okay and wanted to share this moment with him.
Looking over her shoulder and deflecting another huge man who wanted to tell her exactly why she needed to date a Scot, she saw a flash of blonde hair and Jamie’s guitar.
Without thinking, she pushed through the crowds to see Kirsten Bjorkstrom sitting down with Jamie behind her. He was showing her how to play a few simple chords. The blinding pain of insecurity and hurt roared through her. Zoe and Fiona were standing off to the side, Zoe’s arms crossed as she watched them. Sam stomped over.
‘What the actual fuck does she think she’s doing with him?’ she demanded.
Fiona downed a shot. ‘Why do you care? It’s not like you’re interested,’ she replied mildly.
Sam’s jaw worked up and down, but no sound came out.
‘But Fi, look what she did to Rory!’ exclaimed Zoe. ‘Do you want her as a sister-in-law?’
Fiona shrugged. ‘She’d get him out from under Mum’s feet, plus she’s loaded. I always said my brother would ruin some poor woman’s life, so he might as well ruin hers. I’m going to get another drink. Want one?’
She walked unsteadily towards the bar and Sam turned to Zoe. She was so angry she didn’t know whether to scream or cry. How fucking dare Kirsten go anywherenearJamie.
‘If you don’t do something, then I will,’ Sam hissed, her jaw beginning to wobble.
Zoe cracked her knuckles and nodded. Sam felt an overwhelming rush of love for her friend as she stalked with murderous intent towards Kirsten and Jamie. They both looked up and Kirsten’s face blanched. Jamie lifted his guitar off her and placed himself between her and Zoe, giving Kirsten the chance to flee the pub. Sam watched as Jamie pulled Zoe in for a hug, a big smile on his face.
She swallowed. Her throat felt too full. Why did Jamie never pullherin for a hug? Why did he never look this relaxed and happy whenshewas around?
This was meant to be one of the best moments of her life. She’d done something amazing. Rather than simply reading out the words of others, she’d created some of her own. She looked around the pub. Everyone was laughing. Everyone was happy.
All she felt was the familiar twinge of inadequacy and emptiness. She would never be good enough. It didn’t matter what she looked like or what she did. Brad Bauer didn’t want her and neither did Jamie.
Clive rang the bell for last orders and people began to stagger towards the door to leave. Morag had already left and Fiona had her coat over her shoulders as she wandered to Sam’s side.
‘Well done, hen. You did good. I’m proud of you.’ Fiona leaned in and hugged her, her mouth right by Sam’s ear. ‘Do you want me to walk you home? Maybe give Jamie a bit of space to go up to the castle, eh? He can play Hide the Haggis with Kirsten.’
Fiona snorted at her own hilarity and Sam froze.
‘I think he’s pulled. Whaddya think?’ Fiona didn’t wait for a reply but pushed herself off Sam into a vaguely upright position and gave her an exaggerated wink. ‘Kirsten and Jamie, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.’ She laughed again and stumbled out of the pub.
The night airwas cool as Sam walked back down the hill with Jamie towards the post office, but inside she was burning. He’d tried to engage her in conversation, but after a few curt answers, he’d given up. He unlocked the door and she put her hand on his to stop him.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
He frowned. ‘Do what?’
‘Go in. Wouldn’t you rather be somewhere else?’
‘Er.’ He paused, as if he was trying to work out the answer to a trick question. ‘Be where else?’
