Still Life with Strings (34 page)

Shane: You coming over
tonight? xxx

Jade: Too tired. Tomorrow?

Shane: I could come to you.

Jade: The walls in this
house are paper thin.

I’m hoping he gets what
I mean by that, because no way are we having sex here within hearing distance
of all three of my siblings. That would just be too weird. Plus, after what I
saw transpire between him and Mona today, I need some time to myself to think.
They might not have actually spoken to each other during their practice, but
the multitude of emotions that were flying around the auditorium was enough to
make me dizzy.

It feels like there’s
still so much that’s unresolved between the two of them.

Shane: I can be really
quiet…

Jade: Unfortunately, I
can’t. How’d your practice go?

I can’t believe I just
asked that question, but I needed to change the subject and couldn’t think of
anything else on the spot.

Shane: It was with Mona.
More painful than getting a tooth pulled minus the anaesthetic.

I smile at his creative
description. At least he didn’t lie about Mona being there.

Jade: Did you two get the
chance to talk?

It takes a few minutes
longer than usual for him to reply.

Shane: I don’t have anything
to discuss with that woman.

Jade: You sure about that?

Shane: Positive. Now, if you
don’t mind, I’d like to talk about what underwear you have on.

Hmm, that was a crafty
change of subject. I laugh out loud.

Jade: Are you trying to sext
me, Mr Arthur?

Shane: Of course. Underwear?

Jade: Black lace.

Shane: I like you in black.
Are you alone?

I stand up from the
table and Specky hops off my lap, returning to her bowl of doggie biscuits.
Walking upstairs to my room, I shut the door and text him back.

Jade: I am now.

Shane: Where?

Jade: My room.

Shane: Lie down on your bed.

Jade: Okay…

Shane: Fuck, I’m hard just
picturing you. Take off your top and pull down your bra.

Before I get the chance
to take my top off completely, April shrieks loudly from her room, yelling
something about hurting her hand when trying to move her bed. Shit. I shrug
back into my top and type out a quick text to Shane.

Jade: Got to go. There’s an
April emergency.

Shane: Babe.

Jade: I know, I’m sorry. Go
get some sleep. You’ve got a big show tomorrow.

Shane: Okay. I hope April’s
all right. xxx

With that I hurry to
April’s room to find she was trying to rearrange her furniture and got stabbed
with a rusty nail when she was lifting one end of her bed. Tears are streaming
down her face, and there’s a nasty wound in the centre of her palm. Too nasty
to be sorted with a bit of Savlon and a Band-Aid. I wrap my arm around her and
give her a squeezy hug before making arrangements to head to A&E.

My neighbour Barry
drives us, and we don’t get home until the early hours of the morning. I drop
onto my bed, exhausted, and have just enough time to set my alarm before I conk
out.

The next day I arrive
at work around lunchtime, yawning all the while since I didn’t get as much
sleep as usual. April’s been complaining nonstop about having to wear an
unsightly bandage on her hand, so I’m happy to be out of the house, even if it
does mean dealing with the stress of Shane and Mona’s concert.

Apparently, every last
ticket has been sold. Never let it be said that people don’t enjoy a good
scandal. If it’s true that Shane’s fans have been boycotting his old group’s
concerts, then it must be common knowledge that Mona cheated on him, despite
the fact that Shane himself denies it when asked.

I kind of respect him
for that. He could have played up the sympathy card, but he didn’t. In fact,
I’ve been doing a bit of covert Googling on my phone during my break period,
and have discovered that before Shane came to play with the symphony no one had
heard anything from him for more than a year. I’m guessing a good deal of that
time was spent recovering from his suicide attempt, but still, for such a
well-known musician that’s a long time to be out of the spotlight.

I wouldn’t normally be
so determined to delve into his life before we met, but Mirin’s words from
yesterday are still affecting me. Still making me question what would happen if
Mona broke things off completely with Justin and laid herself at Shane’s feet.
Would he step right over her, or pick her up and take her back into his warm,
strong arms?

You see, on the outside
I may act like everything falls right off me like water, but on the inside I’m
as insecure as they come. My brain finds these ways of twisting things,
blacking out all the signs that show Shane only has eyes for me and making me
question if a part of that gorgeous gaze still belongs to Mona.

The evening comes sooner
than expected, and I’m back in my usual spot, tending bar. As the venue starts
to fill, I turn to serve my next customer and find Justin sitting on a stool,
his elbow leaning on the bar top. He’s wearing a white shirt, several buttons
undone, and his sandy coloured hair is all dishevelled.

“What can I get you?”

From the slightly
bleary look in his eyes, I’m guessing he’s already had a few. “Are you really
his girlfriend?” he slurs, and I decide I’m not going to serve him any more
alcohol. He must have been warming the seats at the downstairs bar for a while,
judging by his current state.

“Shane’s girlfriend?
Yeah,” I say, not really knowing whether I’m lying or telling the truth.

He sits up a little
straighter. “I’ll take a double vodka.”

I pick up a glass, and
fill it with water and ice before placing it in front of him. “That’s all
you’re getting from me.”

He narrows his eyes and
scowls at me. This is one thing I like about working here. The clientele are
usually of a certain class, so when you refuse them alcohol, they become moody
about it. Sometimes they’ll get mouthy, but very rarely do they become violent.
It’s a complete contrast to a dive bar I once worked in where the patrons would
glass you for so much as looking at them the wrong way.

Justin’s body slumps
against the bar top now as he shoves the glass of water aside. “I don’t want
that.”

“You should drink it.
Your head is going to be splitting in the morning.”

“Don’t care.”

I give him a concerned
look. “Are you all right, mate?”

He fumbles in his pocket
for a minute before retrieving an expensive diamond engagement ring. He sets it
down on the counter and looks at it with the most miserable expression on his
face. I almost feel bad for him. I actually have to remind myself what this
piece of work did to Shane.

“She gave that back to
me this morning,” he mumbles, and air catches in my lungs.

Fuck, Mirin wasn’t
lying. Mona really is planning on getting her claws into Shane again.

“She said she doesn’t
love me anymore, but that I shouldn’t worry. She won’t stop me from seeing my
kid once it’s born.” He lets out a long, joyless laugh.

“Why did she break
things off?” I ask, my voice shaky.

Justin makes a sound
low in his throat. “I had sex with a waitress.” He pauses, and a drunken smile
comes over his face, like he’s cherishing the memory. “Or two.”

“Well, then, can you
blame her for giving you back that ring?”

“It’s not like she’s a
bloody saint, either. She’s gonna fuck his head up all over again, you know.”

I stare at him hard for
a long moment. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

“Yeah, you’re hot and
all, but she’s Mona.” He pauses before continuing in a sarcastic voice, “
Th
e
Mona Campbell. Shane’s been in love with her since he was twenty.”

Justin’s words give me
a quick, violent thump right in the chest, but I soldier on.

“He
was
in love
with her. Not anymore. He hates her now.”

“They always say
there’s a fine line between love and hate.”

I can’t listen to much
more of this, so I go to serve my next customer. By the time I look back at the
spot Justin had been sitting in, he’s gone. Good riddance. The engagement ring
is gone, too. I wonder if he’ll sell it off or give it to the next woman who
comes along.

My supervisor slides in
behind the bar once the last call for the start of the concert is announced,
and asks if I could go help out in the auditorium. Fuck my life. There aren’t
any more people waiting for drinks, so I have no excuse. I have to go and
witness this concert first hand. Yay.

She guides me through
the entrance for the stalls and tells me to direct people to their seats on the
far left-hand side. The chatter of patrons filling the auditorium echoes all
around me, but it’s not loud enough to drown out the heavy beating of my heart.
I’m so on edge it’s unreal. I mean, what do I think I’m going to see up there
on that stage, some sort of lover’s reunion?

I could probably get
away with leaving once the show begins, but there’s this self-flagellating side
of me that wants to stay. I want to watch and prove to myself that my fears are
unwarranted. That no matter how hard Mona might try, Shane will be unmoved by
her efforts.

When the members of the
orchestra walk out from backstage, I sink to a dark corner of the hall, leaning
back against a wall and waiting. I’m half relieved that the first piece is a
symphony, and not Mona and Shane’s duet. I won’t have to suffer just yet.

A group of women to my
right are excitedly discussing the two musicians in hushed voices, talking
about the rumoured love triangle and poor Shane’s broken heart.

“Excuse me?” comes a
recognisable voice from behind.

I turn around quickly,
breaking my attention from the gossiping women to find Mirin and her husband
standing there waiting to be seated. I silently take the tickets from her hand
and look at the seat numbers.

“Straight down the
aisle, two rows before the steps,” I tell her with a reserved tone.

“Thank you,” Mirin
replies, taking the tickets back from me. “It’s going to be a wonderful show,”
she continues as her husband walks on ahead. “I’m so pleased you’re here to see
it.”

I give her an
emotionless look and gesture for her to take her seat. She smiles, eyes cruel,
mouth hard, then turns and walks away. I let out a long, deep breath and bring
my eyes to the stage, where the symphony has already begun. Trust Mirin to be
fashionably late. Shane is in his usual spot, his arm moving vigorously with
the music, his violin resting just under his chin.

When it’s time for Mona
to come out, she gets a big round of applause, and I despise every clapping
hand in the place for giving it to her. Shane stands a few feet away from the
piano, and they start to play the same song from their practice yesterday. I’m
not sure I can take witnessing this piece all over again, but I stand firm,
studying both of them, trying to pinpoint some sign that my heart is going to
get broken.

And there it is.

If I can’t have him, my
heart would definitely be crushed. Does that mean I’m in love with him? I think
I might have loved him for a while now, far earlier than would be deemed
appropriate. It’s hard for me to know such a talented, beautiful, good-hearted
man and not fall a little bit, just enough to zing a tiny spark into my
much-guarded organ.

I should never have
even agreed to be his friend, but then again, how could I have helped myself?
Show me a working-class girl who doesn’t harbour secret desires to be swept off
her feet by a handsome, sophisticated guy.

The song ends, and the
audience is clapping again, a few people getting to their feet. The next piece,
Hungarian Dance No. 5, isn’t as difficult to endure. It’s an up-tempo, almost
jovial song. The only problem is, Mona’s been looking at Shane the whole time,
a small smile shaping her mouth. He isn’t returning the smile, but at one point
he looks back at her, and I feel my chest go
pop
in a bad way.

What are they sharing?
Is her smile a secretive one?

Okay, I think I’ve
endured enough. I hurry right out of the auditorium and dash to my quiet spot,
the emergency exit on the first floor. I push the heavy door open, and the
sharp night air cools me, sliding over my skin like a soothing balm. Tilting my
head back, I look up at the night sky, silently asking the stars for answers.

Unfortunately, none are
forthcoming.

A couple of minutes
later I go back inside, and it’s just my luck that I bump right into my
supervisor. The intermission is just about to begin, and I should have been at
the bar long before now.

“Where the hell have
you been?”

I start to say
something, but she cuts me off. “Never mind. I had to put Lara on the bar,
since we couldn’t find you. Right now I need to you to prepare these drinks and
bring them to Mona Campbell’s dressing room. She’s got a reputation for being a
diva, so be quick and try not to make any mistakes.” She shoves a piece of
paper into my hand and I nod my head, wondering if this night could possibly
get any worse.