Lyre (19 page)

In one last bid to save himself, he reached up, his right hand grabbing at the very edge of the cliff.  Then his other appeared, snaking round Yuri’s ankle and holding on tight.  She screamed, kicking again and trying to free herself.  His hold, however, was too strong.  No matter how hard she pulled, she was entirely unable to free herself.  Hanging precariously over the edge, Antaeus’ right hand began to slip.  Yuri writhed, twisting this way and that.  It was no good, however.  As he scrabbled, his fingers clawing into the dirt to avoid letting he go, he pulled Yuri closer and closer.  Then, with one final roar, his hand loosened and he finally fell.  Unfortunately, his steel grip was so strong that Yuri also fell with him. 

Together they tumbled down the cliff face.  The only good thing was that it was angled on a slope and, when Antaeus hit a jagged outcrop, he was forced to let go of her.  Yuri thrust her hands forward, her fingernails scraping at the loose rocks and tufts of grass.  She could feel herself picking up speed as she tumbled down, the sand and rocks below rushing towards her.  Everything became a blur.  Just when she thought all was lost, something else grabbed hold of her.  Thinking it was Antaeus again, Yuri screamed and kicked, not noticing the sharp rocks jutting out towards her.  As the strange hands round her arms tightened and began to pull her in, the back of her head slammed into the cliff face.  Her vision blurred and dimmed and everything went dark while the crushed daisy behind her ear loosened and fell, following Antaeus down to the shore with its white petals fluttering softly in the breeze.

*

When Yuri came round, the first thing she noticed was the odour.  It wasn’t particularly pleasant but it was comforting in its familiarity.  She groaned and opened her eyes.  She was in the zoo, in a corner of the reptile house.  Medusa hovered over her, a glass of water in her hand.

‘You’re awake,’ she said, relief palpable in her expression.

‘What,’ Yuri croaked, ‘what happened?’

‘Antaeus,’ Medusa said grimly. 

‘I … I don’t understand.’

Medusa wouldn’t quite meet her eyes.  Even the snakes round her head hissed and jerked away. ‘You must have an aura of Poseidon clinging to you from when you were a child.  He went after you because he thought having your skull would impress his father.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘Antaeus?  He vanished.  I couldn’t find him afterwards.  He might have been washed away by the sea.’  The expression on her face indicated that this was an unlikely scenario.

Yuri shuddered, forcing herself up into a sitting position.  Every bone and muscle in her body screamed in agony.  ‘You caught me,’ she said slowly.  ‘You were there.’

‘I wanted to be there to make sure you were alright.  Sibyl told me you were going after Ozzy.’

Yuri frowned.  ‘How did she know where I’d be?’

Medusa avoided the question.  ‘I was just going to make sure you were safe until he arrived.  It was late at night and young girls should not be hanging around on deserted clifftops at that hour.’

‘Wait.  What do you mean it
was
late at night?  What time is it now?’

‘About eight,’ she answered, checking her watch.

‘Oh God,’ Yuri whispered.  ‘Ozzy.’  She pulled away from Medusa’s ministrations.  ‘I have to find him.  He’ll think I stood him up.’

‘Yuri, you can barely stand.’

She brushed her off.  ‘You should have told him what happened!  You should have said where I was!’

‘Yuri…’

‘I need to get to him now.’

Medusa sighed, absently reaching up for her snakes as if seeking reassurance.  ‘He’s at the school.’

‘Why?’

She smiled faintly.  ‘In all the excitement you seem to have forgotten that this is results day.’

Comprehension dawned.  ‘My exams.  They’ll be handing out the certificates.’

‘You’d better get a move on.  You’ll want to see how you did.  And find Ozzy too of course.’  She held out a hand to help Yuri to her feet.  ‘Can you walk?’

Yuri wobbled slightly.  It hurt but she’d make it.  She nodded then looked at Medusa.  ‘Thank you,’ she said.  ‘For everything.’  With a quick nervous smile, she spun round and left.

Medusa gazed after her, sadness reflected in her expression.  ‘I’m sorry, Yuri,’ she whispered.  ‘There was no other way to keep you safe.  Between letting you stay with Ozzy and keeping you alive, there was no contest.  You’re young.  You’ll find someone else.’  She crossed her fingers tightly.  ‘I hope.’

*

Ms. Chibison was standing in the school hall, greeting the nervous teenagers as they arrived and handing over the stiff white envelopes.

‘Yuri!’ she smiled warmly.  ‘Congratulations.’

Taking the envelope with her name neatly inscribed on the front, Yuri absently opened it, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of Ozzy.  She pulled out the certificate and glanced down.  Her grades were perfect.  Ms. Chibison smiled even more broadly but Yuri barely noticed.  She shoved the certificate back inside, not noticing that her fingers were crumpling the edges. 

‘Have you seen Ozzy?’  she asked desperately.

‘He’s over the back, I think.  He did well too,’ Ms. Chibison answered, ‘although I’m sure he’ll be able to tell you that himself.’  The teacher’s voice faltered as Yuri immediately started walking away.  She frowned slightly before being forced to focus on the next incoming student.

Yuri caught sight of Ozzy’s broad shoulders amongst a crowd of well-wishers.  She strode over, doing her best not to limp.  She was scruffy and bedraggled, not to mention in considerable pain.  But she really didn’t care.  She only had eyes for Ozzy.

When she reached the small group, she cleared her throat.  He turned round, his normally warm eyes assessing her frigidly while his bottom lip curled.  ‘What do you want?’

Ignoring the curious glances of his friends, Yuri took a deep breath.  ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there last night,’ she began.  ‘I mean, I was there but something happened and…’

‘Get lost.’

‘What?’

‘You heard me.’  Ozzy’s fists clenched by his sides.  ‘You had your chance.  That’s twice now you’ve made a fool out of me.  It’s not going to happen again.’

‘Wait, Ozzy…’

He stooped down, looking her directly in the eyes.  ‘You heard me, Urine.  Fuck off.  I don’t ever want to see you again.’

Too stunned to even react, Yuri stared.  Ozzy raised his eyebrows at her.  ‘What?  You’re still here?’

She blinked back tears.  ‘Just let me…’

‘Explain?  I think I made myself pretty clear.’  He looked around at the assembly beside him.  ‘Wouldn’t you lot agree?’

As if on cue, they all laughed, even if it was somewhat forced.  Yuri took a step back.  ‘But…’

Ozzy turned his back on her.  For a long moment she remained where she was while he laughed and joked as easily as he once had with her.  She stared at his back.  Finally, with no words left to support her, she turned and left.  Wiping furiously at her eyes with the cuff of her battered jacket and focused purely on getting out of the building as quickly as she possibly could, she didn’t see Ozzy glance behind him, tracking her exit with pain filled eyes.

*

When she finally got home, Yuri’s shoulders were slumped and she was barely able to stand.  It wasn’t the physical pain that was really hurting though. 

Her mum looked up from her position on the sofa.  ‘Yuri, how did you get on?’

‘Huh?’ 

‘Your exams?’

Yuri glanced down at the crumpled envelope.  ‘Oh,’ she said dully, ‘fine.’

‘Great.  That’ll make it easier to get into a new school.  I was thinking that things are a bit quiet around here.  Maybe we should try somewhere different.  How does London grab you?’

‘Wonderful,’ she answered, staring into space.  ‘I’ll start packing.’

‘The dog is very famous,’ Tanaka-san said, pointing out the small statue surrounded by people.  ‘His name is Hachiko.’

Oz adjusted his cap.  He wasn’t particularly a fan of headwear but unless he wanted to be bombarded by fans, it was a necessary evil.  Most of the time he didn’t mind but without a few hours’ peace and anonymity every day, he’d probably go nuts.  ‘Why’s that?’

‘He belonged to a local professor called Ueno.  Every day, without fail, Hachiko would meet Ueno off his train when he returned from work.  But one day Ueno did not return.  He had collapsed and died from …’ Tanaka-san paused, ‘I’m not sure of the English word but something to do with his brain.  Anyway, Hachiko still came to the station to greet his master who would never again arrive.  For years and years the dog came.  He was very devoted.’

‘Man’s best friend,’ Oz murmured.

‘So desu ne,’ Tanaka-san agreed.  ‘Come.’ 

They walked round the crowds and to the edge of the pavement.  Night had already fallen and the neon billboards surrounding the crossing were bright and brilliant.  

Oz tried not to gape too obviously.  ‘I’ve seen this on television.’

‘It is also very famous.  Every time the lights change, two thousand people cross here.’

‘Really?’

Tanaka-san shrugged.  ‘Actually I have no idea.  It sounds good though, ne?’

Oz grinned in return, watching the masses of people queue up, waiting for the lights to change.  ‘True or not, it’s pretty remarkable.’

‘Perhaps you can now visit it regularly.  It is a shame Orpheus have not come to play in Japan before now.’

It was fortunate after all that he was wearing the cap as the tips of Oz’s ears turned pink.  He was saved from commenting at least as the cars came to a halt and people surged forward to cross the street in every direction.  It was a miracle that no-one banged into anyone else.  Still, he kept close to Tanaka-san’s side, wary of losing him in the crowds.  The fact was that he had been avoiding Japan.  It was a feat he’d pulled off for many years but, while the rest of the band had understood, Odyssey had taken more convincing.  With a bad case of writer’s block and a seeming inability to pen any fresh songs that were better than mediocre - and that he refused to produce for release as a result - the recording company had insisted Orpheus finally spend time wooing the lucrative Japanese market.  Oz hadn’t been in a position any longer to complain.  

Once they reached the pavement, the pair of them ambled up the street, weaving in and out of the various pedestrians.  A girl with remarkably orange skin, white make-up and green hair wandered past.  Her shiny mini-skirt and knee high boots prevented her from looking like a munchkin but she was still a sight to behold.

‘Shibuya girl,’ Tanaka-san explained.  ‘They like to dress up.’

‘I can see that,’ Oz replied, blinking.

They passed by a small restaurant then Tanaka-san veered right to a narrow escalator.  ‘Your friends are up here,’ he said cheerfully.  ‘They wanted to know where to drink so I took them to this place.’

Oz laughed when he saw the sign.  ‘Irish pubs get everywhere.’  He spotted his bandmates and hailed them, before pulling up a stool and joining them.

‘This is place is crazy, isn’t it?’  Jono exclaimed. 

‘It certainly is that.’

‘I think I love Tokyo.’

Oz smiled slightly.  Jono nudged him.  ‘What gives?’

He shrugged.  ‘Nothing.  I just need a drink.’  He started looking around for a waiter.

His old friend eyed him knowingly.  ‘You realise she’s probably still in England?  You’re not going to bump into her or anything.’

‘Who are you talking about?’

Jono sighed.  ‘You know who.’

‘It’s been almost ten years.’

‘Then why are you still thinking about her?’

Oz coughed and looked away.  Tanaka-san appeared curious.  ‘Who are you talking about?’

‘A Japanese girl we used to know.  It was a long time ago but Oz still carries a flaming torch for her.’

‘She betrayed me,’ he muttered.

‘So melodramatic!  You were kids.  Ancient history.’

‘Exactly,’ Oz said firmly, ‘ancient history.’  He gave Jono a stern look, silently telling him to shut up.  Fortunately he took the hint. 

*

Several hours – and several drinks later – Oz was definitely starting to feel the effects.  He swayed his way back from the bathroom, squeezing through the people at the bar and those seated at high tables on the other side.  Orpheus weren’t due to play for another two days; he could afford a little down time.

Dodging out of the way of another customer, he half-stumbled, only just managing to catch himself in time.  When he looked up, he realised that, in the corner by the door, an immaculately dressed woman was watching him carefully.  She wasn’t Japanese but there was still something exotic about her.  Oz rubbed his eyes.  Her skin was absolutely flawless.  It didn’t even look like she was wearing make-up.  She smiled and beckoned him over.  Whoever she was, she’d apparently recognised him for who he really was.  Not only that, but she was definitely engaging in some silent flirting. Oz might normally steer clear of starstruck women; it was simply too hard for them to understand that underneath the fame he was just a normal guy like everyone else.  There was something different about this one though.  And he needed something else to focus on.  Every time he turned round he thought he saw Yuri.  It was becoming annoying and he needed a little diversion.

He walked over as the woman crooked a smile.  ‘Hello, Osbourne,’ she cooed.

Oz winced.  He still didn’t like that name.  ‘Call me Oz.  Can I get you a drink?’

It was hardly the most imaginative of openers but it didn’t seem to bother her.  ‘I have one, thank you.’ She patted the stool next to her.  ‘But you should sit down.’

There was a roar of raucous laughter from the other side of the pub.  Clearly, his bandmates were having a great time.  He was about to politely decline the woman’s offer after all when she raised two immaculately manicured eyebrows at him.  For some reason he did as he was told, perching himself awkwardly next to her.

‘Good boy.  I’m Terpsichore.’

‘Uh, Terpsi…?’

‘Terpsichore.’

‘That’s an unusual name.’

She smiled at him and took a sip of her drink.  ‘It’s Greek.’

His jaw tightened.  He was trying to forget Yuri, not think about her even more.  Trying to maintain a façade of indifference, however, he simply asked, ‘Where in Greece are you from?’

‘You probably won’t have heard of it.  A little town called Litochoro.’

Oz stiffened.  Terpsichore seemed amused.  ‘I see you have heard of it after all.’

Rather than comment, he changed the subject.  ‘What brings you to Tokyo?’

The look in her dark eyes grew intense.  ‘You.’

Faintly alarmed, Oz leaned back.  There had been trouble with a few stalkers in the past.  The last thing he needed was one following him halfway around the world.

‘Relax,’ she laughed, ‘it’s not what you think.’

‘Right,’ he said slowly.  ‘I should probably be…’

‘Hush.’  Terpsichore leaned over and took his hands.  ‘It’s not you so much as your music that I’m interested in.’

Oz tried to pull away but her grip was surprisingly strong.  ‘I really do need to go.’

She looked into his eyes.  ‘Why haven’t you been writing any new songs?’

Blinking, he stared at her.  ‘I have.’

‘But they’ve not been any good, have they?’

‘How the hell do you know that?’ he asked, suddenly suspicious.  ‘Did Odyssey send you?’

She tutted.  ‘Hardly.  This isn’t about making money.  This is about the power of the music.’  She tapped her glass with one long red fingernail.  ‘You need a Muse.’

‘No,’ he said shortly, ‘I don’t.’

Terpsichore’s eyes gleamed.  ‘This will only take a minute.’  Her fingers tightened round his until it was actually painful. 

‘Ouch!  What the hell are you doing?’

She frowned and stared at him.  ‘You don’t feel that?’

‘Of course I bloody well feel it!  You’re crushing my hands!’

‘Damn.’  She looked away, loosening her hold slightly.  It still wasn’t enough for Oz to escape, however.  Her expression took on a thoughtful slant and she glanced back at him.  ‘When were you in Litochoro?’

‘Years ago,’ he muttered, now desperate to get away.

‘With whom?’

‘My parents.’

And?’ she prompted.

Oz sighed.  He was definitely starting to feel the alcohol.  Perhaps he should go back to the hotel and have a lie down.  ‘My girlfriend at the time.  Now, please, I need to go.’

Terpsichore snarled, her face twisting.  ‘You shall not.’  She held his eyes and he felt an odd calmness overtake him.  ‘Who did you meet when you were there?’

‘No-one.’ He shrugged.  ‘The guesthouse proprietor.’

Her eyes bored into him.  ‘Did you go to Olympus?’

Tension straightened his spine.  ‘What of it?’

‘It was Apollo, wasn’t it?  He did something,’ she sneered.  ‘Damn that god.’

‘God?’ Old memories trickled through him and they weren’t pleasant.  ‘You’re crazy.  And I didn’t meet anyone called Apollo.’

Her lips tightened.  ‘You are telling the truth.  My sisters assured me they have had nothing to do with your success.  So that must mean…’  She fixed him with an accusing glare.  ‘Love.  It’s the only other thing that makes any sense.’

‘I’m not in love.’

‘Perhaps.  Perhaps not.  But you definitely were.  Tell me.’

The compulsion to answer her was both strange and strong.  Sending an internal prayer that she wasn’t a journalist, he opened his mouth.  ‘The girlfriend I was with at Olympus.  Yuri.’

‘Is she dead?’

He winced.  ‘No.  We broke up.’

Terpsichore’s intensity grew.  ‘You must get back together.’

‘What?  No!  It was years ago.  Besides, she cheated on me.’

‘Really.’

Oz’s voice was flat.  ‘Really.’

‘Tell me.’

He wanted to pull his eyes away from hers but he found he was unable to do it.  ‘We went to Olympus.  She said she wanted to find the gods because Poseidon had saved her when she was a child.’  The tone of his voice left nothing to the imagination.  He patently thought Yuri had been crazy.  ‘She disappeared.  Three hours later when she came back, she was sucking face with another guy.’

Terpsichore leaned forward.  ‘Interesting.  What did he look like?’

‘Young.  Dark hair.  Who cares?’

Her eyes narrowed and she pulled out a phone, flicking through various screens before holding up a shot of a photo.  ‘Was this him?’

The flicker of recognition in his eyes was enough.  ‘How did you…?’

‘Pan.  He did this.  The question is why.’

‘What in the hell kind of a name is Pan?’  Oz could feel his old wounds re-opening.  None of this was making any sense.

‘Says the human called Osbourne. Be quiet.’  Terpsichore waved a hand at him and he abruptly stilled.  Her own voice dropped.  ‘Look, the gods are real.  Olympus is real.  I’m a Muse and it was meant to be my job to help you get your mojo back.  But because you already have a muse of your own, it’s not working.  It must be this Yuri.’ She threw him a hard look.  ‘Unless there have been other women?’

‘Some,’ he muttered.  ‘No-one special.’

Terpsichore relaxed.  ‘Good.  So all you have to do is find Yuri and you’ll be able to write songs properly again.’

‘You’re crazy,’ he dismissed.  ‘I’ve been writing songs for years without her.  And in case you haven’t noticed I’ve been doing pretty well with them.’

‘But she’s still been fuelling them.  With the ten year mark approaching, it’s no wonder that ability is starting to fade.’

‘She cheated on me,’ he said stubbornly.  ‘And then when she got me to agree to meet her, she didn’t even bother to show up.’

‘I can’t help with that last part but I can certainly aid you in the first,’ Terpsichore said.  She took her phone back and jabbed in a number.  ‘I need your help,’ she muttered into the receiver.  ‘No.  I will not have sex with you in return.  I’m in a bar in Tokyo.  The Irish one in Shibuya.’  She listened for a moment.  ‘Just get here, Pan.’  She hung up.

‘Look, lady, this has been fun and all but I think it’s time I called it a night,’ Oz said, attempting yet again to leave. 

‘Wait,’ she instructed.

‘I…’  His mouth dropped open as the door swung open and a familiar face appeared.  Oz’s fists clenched and, for the first time, he found himself able to pull away from Terpsichore.  He launched himself at Pan.  ‘You bastard!’

The other customers swung round, staring in disbelief.  Terpsichore grabbed the back of Oz’s t-shirt and yanked him back before he could land a punch.  ‘Idiot,’ she hissed.  ‘You’re drawing attention to yourself.’