Page 89 of Musical Games
‘Ooh!’ said Anna loudly. ‘You’ll never guess who came into surgery yesterday? Cecil Montgomery from the GMC!’
‘That old fool,’ huffed Leo. ‘What did he want?’
The conversation moved along and Jamie let it pass by in front of him. Sam was silent. He wanted to reach below the table and touch her. To reassure her and let her know he was there. But she seemed to have withdrawn completely, downing her glass of wine, then pouring herself another. He felt impotent. He didn’t know how to make any of it better.
At the endof the meal, they took a taxi back to Sam’s flat. She stared out the window. Jamie reached for her hand and gently squeezed, but she didn’t squeeze it back. His heart thumped inside his chest as he plucked up the courage to talk to her.
‘Sam, why are your family so much taller than you?’
She didn’t turn around. ‘Don’t you mean why am I so much smaller than them?’
He was silent.
She sighed. ‘I had a lot of gut issues and anxiety when I was a child. My parents thought my tummy aches were a side product of my anxiety and didn’t take it… they didn’t give it as much attention as they could have. They were both very busy with work and a third child can sometimes be left to bring themselves up. Esther and Anna were perfect, so they assumed I would be, too. My Crohn’s went undiagnosed for years. A side effect in children can be growth retardation. By the time they realised something wasn’t right, it was too late. I was never going to get any taller.’
She took her hand from his and crossed her arms over her stomach, looking away. Pain filled his chest till he could hardly breathe. He didn’t know what to say or do.
Back at the flat,he waited for Sam to finish in the bathroom. She walked into the kitchen wearing the ‘cute but crazy’ Stitch pyjama set that had driven him wild in Kinloch.
‘Do you want me to sleep on the sofa tonight?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘No, sleep in my bed. I’m sorry about today.’
When he’d cleaned his teeth, he quietly pushed open the door to her room and crept in. Sam was curled up on her side, facing away from him. He climbed into the bed and lay on his back, staring up into the darkness. He replayed the events of the day, over and over for what seemed like hours, his body wired and on edge, sleep utterly illusive.
He felt a gentle shaking beside him and heard a soft sniff. Sam was crying. He turned towards her and put his hand on her shoulder.
‘Sam.’
She shrugged him off. ‘I’m fine, Jamie. Go to sleep.’
He lay back, pain reaching up from his chest to scratch at his eyes. He had nothing to offer her. She didn’t need him and she didn’t want him.
25
The next morning Sam put on her highest heels and her bravest face. She wanted to pretend the previous day hadn’t happened. Every time she thought about the coffee with Karen, she felt sick. She didn’t know what her relationship with Jamie was, but it was too precious to be shared with a journalist and millions of strangers. He was such an enigma to her. When they were intimate, she felt like his entire reason for living. But then he would withdraw. He was so quiet and shy she couldn’t read him. What had he been like with other girlfriends? She thought about asking but knew he would completely clam up. Did she know Fiona well enough to ask? Would Zoe have any idea?
She didn’t think about the meal with her family. It was just too painful dredging up memories and feelings she wished would stay dead and buried. The day after seeing them she was always so tired. She needed extra effort to remember who she was, or at least who she wanted people to think she was.
She ate breakfast in silence. Jamie seemed to be treading on eggshells around her as if worried she might break down at any minute. This scratched at her insides, irritating her further. She’d dragged herself out of chronic ill health and had a career in a notoriously fickle and difficult industry. She didn’t want to be thought of as small and weak. She didn’t want to be vulnerable.
They travelled into central London and the space between them widened. She didn’t know what new offer Sandra had for her but wanted to get it over and get to the meeting with the record label. This was what she really cared about. She needed an excuse to tie Jamie into spending more time with her. He had his family and his life up in Scotland. He wouldn’t willingly trade any of it for her without a very good reason. She was praying money and the promise of fame and fortune in the music industry might be enough of an incentive to consider a different kind of life. A life with her in it.
When they reachedthe West End, Jamie said he would wander around Soho until she was done, so she popped a couple of paracetamol in preparation for the cloying fug of Sandra’s office. Her assistant let her in and she sat down whilst Sandra finished a call.
Her agent’s chair was swivelled around to face the window and all Sam could see over the back was a manicured hand gesticulating through a haze of vape smoke. She felt her throat tightening as it trickled in through her nostrils. She was sick with anxiety, her stomach a crawling mass of eels and spiders.
Breathe in, two, three, four, and hold, two, three, four. Breathe out, two—
‘Right, love. I’m all yours.’ The chair swivelled around and Sandra put her vape down, steepling her fingers. She stared at Sam and cleared her throat.
‘I’m not going to sugar-coat this for you. You’re offElm Tree Lane.’
‘What?’
‘They’re not renewing your contract. You’ve got one week of filming left, then you’re out.’
‘What? Why?’ This couldn’t be real.
