‘This journey . . . lots of sharp turns . . . rough patches . . . bumpy stretches.’
He’d paused for so long Harry wondered if he’d finished.
‘It’s been . . . bloody awful at times . . . But good moments too. Having you home . . .’ His voice had trailed off and he’d grimaced, which Harry knew was his way of smiling but the muscles in his face no longer worked properly. ‘I’m glad I met Eddie . . . She’s made you happy.’
A lump had formed in Harry’s throat and he’d wiped the tears away, unsure what to say. Eddie had made him happy.
‘Wish I could look into the future . . . see you married . . . meet your children.’ He’d shaken his head awkwardly. ‘Not going to happen.’
‘There’s Skype,’ Harry had reminded him. ‘But if something happens all of a sudden it will take me two days to get home.’
Jim had raised his right shoulder in a tiny shrug. ‘Be grateful . . . we’ve had this time.’
Tears threatened yet again as Harry recalled that conversation. He left the room without disturbing Eddie and went to check his emails. He took a deep breath and turned on his iPad. There was a new email from his agent in his inbox. His heart did a somersault. The night before his agent had told him she’d know the next day whether the Phantom role was his. He clicked on the icon, scanned the contents of the email and let out a whoop. The role was his! The only condition was he had to be in London within the next two weeks, ready to start rehearsals at the end of April. Would Eddie be ready to leave that soon?
He went back into the bedroom and scooted under the covers next to her. Her lashes fluttered up and down as she sensed his presence.
‘What time is it?’ she asked, her voice still groggy with sleep.
‘About six.’
She groaned. ‘Why are you awake so early?’
‘I couldn’t sleep.’
‘So now you’re waking me up.’
He snuggled closer and kissed her. ‘Yes, I’m waking you up because I have good news.’
She wriggled from his grip. ‘What?’
Harry rolled her onto her back and propped himself onto his elbows so he could stare into her eyes. ‘I got the role.’
She grinned. ‘Did you say yes?’
‘No.’
Her smile faded. ‘Why not? Because of your dad?’
‘I wanted to talk to you about it first.’
‘Are you crazy? I told you last night I’m happy to move to London with you.’
He stroked her cheek. ‘They want me there in two weeks.’
‘I’m ready when you are.’
‘So I should email back and accept it?’
She punched him gently on the arm. ‘Yes!’
He gently brushed the hair from her face and locked eyes with hers. ‘I love you, Eddie Campbell.’
She beamed. ‘I love you, too.’
‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to wake up every morning like this and see your beautiful face lying in bed beside me.’ He kissed her. ‘And one day I want to marry you.’
One corner of her mouth curved. ‘Not if that’s how you’re going to propose. That was a bit of an afterthought.’
He grinned cheekily. ‘I wasn’t proposing.’
She smacked him in the arm again. ‘What were you doing then? Rehearsing your lines?’
‘Maybe. Or maybe I wanted to see whether you’d screw up your cute little nose and laugh at me again.’
‘Email your agent and tell her we’re on our way.’
‘She can wait. Right now I need to do this,’ he said, before crushing his lips to hers.
Epilogue
Four Months Later
‘Do you still pinch yourself that we’re here?’ Harry asked, as they walked hand in hand towards Piccadilly Circus tube station.
A cold wind stung Eddie’s cheeks and wrapped itself around her neck like an icy scarf. She shivered and turned up the collar of her denim jacket. Wasn’t it supposed to be summer?
‘It’s been a crazy few months,’ she agreed. More than crazy. It had been a whirlwind, but she wouldn’t have changed a single moment.
‘Who would have thought we’d be living in London and I’d be singing in Phantom?’
‘What a shame Riley’s not still living over here. How’s she doing?’
Harry didn’t talk to Riley as often as he once had. She and Tony had chosen to move back to Australia permanently. She’d recently given birth to a little boy and judging by the photos he’d seen on Instagram, they all looked very content.
‘I think she’s okay. Last time I spoke to her, she said motherhood is the toughest role she’s ever played.’
‘Does she plan to perform again?’ Eddie asked.
‘One day.’
‘You’re the one who always tells me “once a performer, always a performer”.’
He draped an arm around her and pulled her closer. ‘I’m a lucky man to have you.’
‘Lucky?’
‘You understand me. And understand the theatre and this crazy life I lead.’
‘I’m not sure I’ll ever understand it, but I’ll definitely support you in it.’
He kissed her passionately, not caring who was watching. ‘And that’s just one more reason why I adore you.’
As they waited for the train, Eddie gazed around. The red, white and green tiles gave the station a Christmassy feel and she had a flashback to last Christmas when they’d first met.
‘We couldn’t be further from Yallambah if we tried, could we?’ she said.
Harry stroked her cheek. ‘You’re not homesick, are you?’
‘Not at all.’ The first few weeks living in London weren’t as easy as Eddie had thought it would be, but after she found work at a small private hospital she made some friends and found her feet. ‘I miss home a little. At times. But Skype is okay.’ She smiled. Every week she chatted to her grandparents over the internet. ‘And Aimee’s always on Facebook, so I still feel connected to her.’
Bill was in London too and they were slowly forming a father-daughter relationship. Eddie couldn’t bring herself to call him Dad yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time. She’d met Lewis and David and their families, and while they all got along well, Eddie wasn’t sure they’d ever be close. It didn’t worry her. She hadn’t grown up wishing for siblings.
She knew Harry missed home and worried incessantly about Jim and his sister. Jim remained adamant Harry stay in London and live his life to the full, but the unspoken agreement between everyone was that, when the time came, Eddie and Harry would return to Yallambah, albeit temporarily, to be with Jim in his final days. Surprisingly, his condition had stabilised, but they all knew it was only a matter of time. How much time? No one had any idea.
Harry pulled her close and kissed her temple. ‘Thanks for coming to see the show again.’
‘My pleasure.’ She’d seen it half a dozen times already and still wasn’t tired of it.
Their train whooshed into the station, bringing with it a gust of hot, stale air. They waited patiently for the doors to open and found seats side by side before the train took off into the darkened tunnel.
A moment later a man started singing. Eddie recognised the popular Elton John song from The Lion King immediately. She spun around to see who it was but couldn’t make him out in the crowded carriage. From the other end of the train a woman joined in.
Eddie grabbed Harry’s arm and shook it. ‘Get out your phone and film this,’ she whispered.
‘Why?’
‘It’s one of those flash mob things.’
He leaned back in his seat. ‘I doubt it,’ he said. ‘It’s just people singing because they’re happy. They’ve probably just seen the show.’
Other voices joined in, blending in perfect harmonies. Eddie’s head swung left to right watching them. The singers started moving around the train, and someone turned on a speaker. Music filled the carriage.
Eddie’s eyes widened. She turned to H
arry. ‘Do you know these people?’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t recognise any of them.’
‘This song is from The Lion King,’ she whispered as she gripped his arm tighter in excitement. ‘I bet this is the cast. It has to be. They know how to sing. Listen to them.’
‘Yeah, they’re pretty good,’ he agreed, seeming totally nonplussed.
Why wasn’t he as excited as she was? If they were filming this she could post it on Facebook and it would go viral.
A minute later the singing stopped and the only sound was the backing track coming through the sound system somewhere on the train. Eddie glanced at the singers but they were frozen like marble statues. She twisted in her seat and realised everyone except herself and Harry were part of the flash mob. Suddenly her chest felt tight and she had trouble catching her breath. Her nerve endings tingled. When she turned back to Harry, he was down on one knee, a small black box in his hand.
She clamped her hands over her mouth. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked through her fingers.
‘Eddie, I know you’re not usually one for public displays and surprises, but will you humour me this time?’
She dropped her hands and nodded, biting her bottom lip. Was this really happening?
‘I’ve never been so happy in my life since I met you.’
She stared at him.
‘Life with you has never been more amazing. More beautiful. More spontaneous. More fun. Life with you has made me a better man.’
Eddie’s mouth was dry.
‘I knew from the moment I met you that you were the one for me. Edwina Maggie Campbell, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’
Silent tears streamed down her face but she made no attempt to wipe them away.
‘You’re it. You’re The One. My beautiful Cinderella. You inspire me to be the best man I can be, Eddie. The best son.’ He smiled sadly. ‘The best brother. And hopefully one day I’ll be the best daddy too. I want to make you happy for the rest of your life. The rest of our lives.’
Eddie stared into Harry’s eyes and saw tears form.
‘Will you let me take care of you? Will you let me be your husband? Will you marry me?’
‘What a stupid question,’ she squeaked.
‘Is that a yes?’
She nodded. ‘Yes.’ The word was barely a whisper. She cleared her throat. ‘Yes,’ she said more confidently. ‘YES.’
Harry took her face between his hands, kissed her tenderly, and around them the singers burst into the chorus of the song and started moving around the train again.
He pulled her close and whispered in her ear. ‘Can you feel the love tonight?’
She nodded. ‘Yes I can.’
‘I love you, Eddie. I love you so much.’
They kissed again.
‘I love you too, Harry.’
The song ended and everyone in the carriage erupted in clapping and cheers.
Eddie faced them, beaming, her vision blurred. ‘Could you sing one more song?’
Author’s Note
One More Song is a story woven from the sights and sounds in my home. I’m married to a performer, and whilst Tim isn’t currently singing or acting, as the adage goes, “once a performer, always a performer”.
Tim sang with the Victoria State Opera back in the 1990’s and over the years has sung in many musical theatre productions, including (my favourites) the role of “Old Deuteronomy” in Cats and “Jean Valjean” in Les Miserables. He has also co-run a theatre company (Postcard Productions) and worked in the performing arts industry for many years (Courthouse Youth Arts, Geelong Performing Arts Centre and Bathurst Memorial Entertainment Centre). Because of this, Tim has developed many friendships with other performers and this has allowed me, a non-performer (*cough a wannabe-performer) to go backstage and meet many of the incredible men and women who blow us away with their singing and acting abilities every night on stage.
Luckily, Tim’s talent has been passed onto our daughter, Chloe, who is currently studying a Bachelor of Musical Theatre at Federation University in Ballarat. I hope one day Chloe will have her chance to star in a professional show. This book is dedicated to her.
In January 2016 Tim and I had the opportunity to attend Opera in the Alps in Beechworth, Victoria. Whilst I’m not an opera fan, I loved every moment of the event and of course the stunning setting. Within days the idea of One More Song was born and began to quickly take shape.
I adore the Victorian High Country – it holds a special place in my heart. Tim’s grandmother was born and raised in Beechworth and my grandmother spent the last years of her life in the nearby town of Yackandandah – a place I loved from the moment I first visited.
Yallambah is a fictional town based very loosely on Yackandandah and although there are similarities between the real Beechworth and the one in this book, I have used a lot of poetic license, especially with regard to the Beechworth Hospital. Any resemblance to people, place or medical scenarios is purely coincidental. I deliberately didn’t visit the hospital or meet the staff so that it could be a total figment of my imagination.
I hope you enjoy spending time with Eddie and Harry’s family and friends in Yallambah as much as I’ve enjoyed bringing the small, close-knit rural community to life on the real stage.
Happy reading.
Acknowledgements
As always, many people have contributed to the creation of this book and this is my opportunity to say thank you. Of course, there is always the risk that someone will be forgotten, and I apologise in advance if you have been overlooked.
Firstly, a huge thanks to my agent extraordinaire Haylee Nash – the first person to believe in me and take a chance on a debut author. Haylee, you have been a huge influence in my writing journey so far and I am forever indebted to you for your ongoing support, advice and wisdom. I look forward to a long working relationship with you and The Nash Agency.
Thank you – all of you whether we have met in person or not – at Pan Macmillan Australia for believing in me yet again and ensuring this story is the best it can be. Georgia Douglas, Cate Paterson, Clare Keighery, you ladies are a delight to work with. I hope we get to do it again and again. I can’t thank you enough for choosing Di Blacklock to edit this book. Her editorial brilliance was thoroughly appreciated (and needed!).
I loved working with you again, Di. Your blunt, no-holds-barred approach and your ability to honestly tell me when the story sucked is just what I needed. I’m blessed over and abundantly by you. Thank you for pushing me, for causing me to improve my writing, for making me dig deeper and thank you for being so encouraging when it all worked out. Your feedback was always accurate and I never once doubted your insight because I always felt you wanted my story to sing as much as I did.
Lisa Ireland, Delwyn Jenkins and Alli Sinclair, my Geelong writing crew. Thank you. Your friendship means the world to me. I love our catch ups but unfortunately we have so many words and too little time. I cherish our time together and love you all dearly for being so supportive, kind, generous and smart. Thank you for reading chapters, offering advice, helping unstick the stuck parts and basically being the best ever sounding boards and writing girlfriends I could ever ask for.
Karly Lane, thank you for being of the first people to read this story in its entirety outside the publishing team. I’m thrilled you love it and I’m so grateful you took the time to read it and endorse it.
Andrea Grigg. Thank you for being available online day and night (or so it seems) just to chat or to talk through plot ideas. Your editorial eyes are amazing – better than I think you realise. I hope and pray one day I can return the favour and support you the way you have supported me. I’m so glad you are in my life.
To the rural romance writing girls including Sarah Barrie, Tea Cooper, Cathryn Hein, Rachael Johns, Karly Lane, Fiona McArthur, Fiona Palmer and Annie Seaton, I voraciously read as many of your books as humanly possible then convince myself I’ll never be able to write as we
ll as you, but lucky for me you are all so encouraging and supportive.
To the stars of the stage. I’m so blessed to have met so many wonderful musical theatre performers over the years because of my husband’s involvement in theatre. Simon Gleeson, thank you for taking me backstage after you’d performed in the Melbourne production of Les Miserables. You were probably desperate to go home after the show, but you graciously answered my questions and gave me the incredible opportunity to see what goes on behind the curtains. You will always be my second favourite ‘Valjean’ – first place will always belong to Tim! To the other musical theatre stars I get to say I know: Natalie O’Donnell (soon to be starring in Mamma Mia), Bert Labonte (currently in Book of Mormon), Shandelle McGennisken, Darilyn Ramondo (Doorstep Arts), Christine Davey (Skin Of Our Teeth Productions), Andre Jewson (recently in The Lion King), Tim McCallum, Chloe Edwards and everyone I have ever seen perform on stage – you have inspired me with this story. Keep singing and dancing.
Thank you to my wonderful family. To our four children, thank you for your support and for allowing me to write. Our boys: Jeremy, Zach and Toby, I am so proud of the awesome young men you have become. You make my heart so happy. To our daughter, Chloe: I love you so much and hope and pray that you achieve every dream you have and get your chance to sing on West End or Broadway one day.
To Tim, the love of my life, I couldn’t do this without you – nor would I want to. Thank you for your unwavering love for me. You are, and always will be, my romantic hero and of course in my eyes you will always be the best ever ‘Jean Valjean’. I can’t wait for the day we get to travel beyond Victoria and its country towns and explore the world. I promise all our stops will include great coffee and lots of good music – all in the name of book research of course.
Finally, to you, the reader. Thank you for choosing this book. I hope when you read One More Song you love it and talk about it and maybe fall in love with musical theatre just like Eddie did. If you did, please drop me a line and let me know: [email protected]. I love hearing from readers.
One More Song Page 33