Tudor Rubato

by Jamie Salisbury

  Tudor Rubato

  Jamie Salisbury

  Chapter One

  Whoever said life was easy obviously hasn’t been in mine. Don’t get me wrong-I love my life and I wouldn’t change a thing about it, especially my wonderful husband, Amadeus Tudor. It’s just that life with Amadeus these past few years has been anything but boring.

  Amadeus is a rock star. Not just a rock star, but part of an elite group of musicians who are above the main stream rock and roll bands. He’s not only a superb composer - he is a multi talented musician and singer. In other words he’s a rock god, destined to be a rock legend.

  I’ve known Amadeus since he was a teenager just starting out in the business. I was an ambitious young woman determined to make a name for myself as a public relations maven, and manager. Amadeus and his band at the time, Tudor Rose gave me a bite of that apple, and I’ve been with Amadeus ever since. After years of trying to maintain our relationship as nothing more than professional, Amadeus put his foot down and took control. We got married and settled into our new life. But that’s where it all goes amuck and becomes a roller coaster.

  The past two years have been what some people would consider a living nightmare. Amadeus overdosed on drugs. Actually he was poisoned, most likely at the hand of someone he regarded as a friend.

  If they were trying to kill Amadeus it didn’t work. Instead of killing him, the overdose put Amadeus in a coma for five, almost six long, grueling, months. Days then ran together-weeks, weeks into months. Whoever was responsible has yet to be caught. There are suspicions, but not enough to arrest them.

  I was pregnant with our first child when this all happened. I became obsessed with overseeing Amadeus’ care. I didn't listen to the doctors. Not even when his doctors as well as mine warned me the stress I was under was not good for the baby. I continued my daily vigilance, putting him before me or our unborn child.

  I paid dearly too. Wolfgang Amadeus Tudor was stillborn. I was surrounded by all of Amadeus’ family when we held a closed memorial service. Peter McNichol came—he was the only one outside the immediate family invited. Peter had become family to both Amadeus and me. Everyone was there except for the most important person in my life…Amadeus.

  Amadeus and I never spoke of Wolfgang after our initial conversation when he woke up. We spent months going about the business of getting Amadeus fit and back into a routine. Our days were filled with physical therapy sessions. At first a therapist came and worked with Amadeus several times a week.

  After that I would take him to therapy alternating with the gym. At the gym I would join him in his exercises and routines on the various pieces of workout equipment. I needed it as much as he did; an outlet for my pent up frustration. Amadeus’ physique began to change. He had always been somewhat fit for a musician, but now – while I won’t say he became obsessed with his physical appearance, he became definitely more conscious of the importance of good health. He wanted to get back on the road and tour. He wanted to forget or try to forget what had happened to him and to our son.

  Conversation between the two of us stayed minimal, courteous at best. Non-existent became the norm. Both his doctors and his family, along with Peter picked up on the cold distance of our existence and begged us to seek out therapy. We did and that was where it all came apart.

  We were attending one of our bi-weekly sessions together, which I had thought had been progressing rather nicely. Amadeus and I were actually discussing what had occurred to him and subsequently the topic of Wolfgang came into the conversation. We were able to both acknowledge our grief over his loss to each other.

  Blame was not in my mind. If there was any fault to be had it was mine. I told Amadeus just that.

  “If there is anyone to blame, it’s me Amadeus. I can make a million excuses for why it happened—from caring for you to it was out of our hands, to it was what we were going to be dealt.”

  And that was all it took for all the pent up rage which had been steeping in Amadeus to erupt.

  “It is your fault Zara! It’s all your fucking fault and I’ll never forgive you for it!” His dark brown eyes bore right through me as he stood in front of me. In all the time I had known Amadeus I had never seen such a cold, hateful look. “You were selfish Zara. And because of your selfishness our son died.”

  When he finished his wrath, he stood by the windows looking out over the parking lot, his jaw set, a muscle twitching in his cheek, ignoring me and my reaction. For me I knew right then we both needed space.

  I rose from my chair, picked up my pocketbook from its place beside my chair. The doctor who had watched the entire episode unfold began to speak. I shook my head, walked out of his office.

  I immediately drove back to the condo, packed a bag and gathered all my important papers such as my passport. As I walked out, I picked up my favorite photograph taken of the two of us in happier times. I removed it from the frame, put it in my case along with my lap top, and left.

  By the time I was behind the wheel of my car I was bawling uncontrollably. I didn’t want to lose Amadeus, but I knew right now I was the last person he needed close to him.

  I stopped at an ATM and withdrew the maximum the card would allow. Then in a lucid moment, I decided to go to the bank. I still had an account in my name from before we were married I had kept open. I transferred more than enough money into the account knowing I would be taken care of should Amadeus decide to stay mad at me—or worse become spiteful. It wasn’t in his nature, but neither of us had ever before been dealt the hand we were playing. Neither of us was thinking clearly.

  I got back in the car and began to drive. I simply wanted to get out of town. I knew that Portland or points south would be the first places Amadeus would search for me, if and when he did. He knew how fond I was of southern California and would assume that would be where I would go. I needed to be by myself. I needed to be away from anything that was familiar and reminded me of him. Even going to the ocean would be too familiar. Instead I decided to head east, over the Cascades and into eastern Washington. I had no destination in mind. I simply wanted to put some miles between Amadeus and myself.

  During the long drive, I decided I would stop at an old girl friend’s home in northern Idaho. I also decided I would call Amadeus and at least let him know I was fine. I’d go to the British Isles for the summer. It would give Amadeus and I both some much needed time apart to think things through.

  Barb was elated to see me, even on such short notice. We had been college roommates and had kept in touch over the years. I explained what had happened between Amadeus and me as well as I could without breaking down.

  “Perhaps a change of scenery is what you need, Zara. Put some space between the two of you. It’s hard enough to lose a child, but to lose a child the way the two of you did on top of Amadeus’ medical situation, it does not surprise me.”

  I sat before her and sobbed. When I finally got a hold of myself I spoke. “I can’t lose him Barb. I love him more than I’ve ever loved any one. I know he’s hurting, but I won’t allow him to take it out on me. Hell, I’m hurting too.”

  “I know, Zara. Look, the two of you have a strong relationship, which I think will be your saving grace. You both simply need a break from each other so you can begin the healing process.”

  I nodded my head. “You’re right, I know that.”

  “Just stay in touch with him. You’ll both figure it out. Your relationship goes back a long time, you each know the other better than most couples, and most importantly, you both love each other unconditionally.”

  Barb walked over and hugged me. I hung on to her. I knew she was right, however painful the next month or however long it took, Amadeus and I would work through this.

  I placed a cal
l to Amadeus that evening. He picked up his cell after two rings.

  “Zara are you okay?”

  “I’m fine Amadeus. I’ve decided--I need, I think we both need some time apart right now. We’ve been through so much in just the past few months.”

  “When do you plan on coming home?”

  “I don’t know right now. I don’t think we need to be together though. We’re both hurting and we obviously can’t talk to each other.”

  “Then I guess there’s nothing more to say. You’ve obviously made up your mind. In fact you know what? I think this is a damned good idea Zara. I can’t stand to be around you right now anyway.”

  “Amadeus,” I choked out, “I didn’t call to fight with you or to listen to you be mean. I called to tell you that I’m fine and where you can find my car so you can send someone to get it. I’ll call you in a week or so, okay?”

  “Do you need any money?”

  I could tell he was holding back his emotions full fold. He was angry and hurt. Not that I could blame him, but I wasn’t going to be his verbal punching bag.

  “No. I’m fine for right now, thanks. I’ll let you know if I do. I only took one credit card with me. I left the rest in your sock drawer, okay”

  “Whatever Zara. You should know that what is mine is yours-ours. I get the idea. You don’t want me to know where you are. Fine. Play your game. Play the victim. Well, the only victim here was Wolfgang, and because of you he’s not with us.”

  “I love you Amadeus. I wish you could see that.”

  “I love you too Zara and I know you love me. But right now—right now I’m angry with you. I’m angry and disappointed. And I’m hurt Zara.”

  I was starting to well up with tears and I knew it wouldn’t do either of us any good, so I decided to end the call before one of us said something we’d later regret.

  “Amadeus, I need to go. I’ll talk to you soon. I love you, baby.” I hung up the phone, not giving him a chance to reply. I punched the power button on the phone and shut it down knowing he’d call right back. He hated when I hung up on him.

  I spent a few days preparing myself for my trip, making flight arrangements. I was finally able to get everything put together for the long trip without too many connecting flights. Since it was the height of the tourist season getting a decent fare was not easy. As far as a place to stay, Barb had helped arrange that for me. She had a recently widowed aunt in Edinburgh, who was delighted to rent out one of her bedrooms for as long as I needed.

  Once I arrived in Scotland I placed a call to Amadeus. I so wanted to hear his voice. But when I called it was obvious he was still bitter about my leaving.

  “You’re still not going to tell me where you are, huh? Well for now I’ll respect your privacy.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Just so you know Zara, I’m thinking seriously of joining Peter out on the road. He invited me right after you left. He left the invitation open.”

  “I think you should do that Amadeus.”

  “Yeah, I think I am. It sure beats sitting at home, wondering if or when my wife is going to return. Besides I need to get back to performing and working.”

  I didn’t reply. His statement was a huge slap in the face, but it was his way of telling me, again, he was hurt.

  “Well, please let me know what you decide and how to get in touch with you.”

  “Zara, you can’t have it both ways. You left. You won’t tell me where you are or what your plans are. You stay in touch, which, don’t get me wrong I appreciate. I cherish every time we talk, even if I am an ass. I have left you alone. I don’t call and harass you. But now that I’m thinking about getting away for a while, you want to know how to reach me? No, sweetheart, it doesn’t work like that.”

  “Fine, Amadeus,” I replied, fighting back the tears. “You win. You say you cherish my calls, but yet you want to lash out at me. You know you can call me, but I give up, I can’t and won’t play your games.”

  “No, Zara, you’re the one who started all of this by leaving. Perhaps we should call a truce for a couple of weeks and not have any contact with each other.”

  I stayed silent, trying desperately not to cry and at the same time not be angry.

  “If that’s what you wan..” I broke down sobbing, unable to hold back the tears. I simply could not help myself.

  “Zara, please stop. You know I can’t stand it when you cry.”

  Finally, I managed to pull myself together. “I’ll leave it in your lap, baby. You call me when you’re ready, okay? Just always remember I love you.” I hung up the phone. Amadeus immediately called back, but I let the call go directly to voice mail.

  ******

  I raked my hand through my hair, holding on to my cell phone as I walked across the sun lit living room of the condo Zara and me called home. I laid my iPhone down on the wrought iron and glass coffee table on my way to the edge of the room where floor to ceiling windows overlooked the dark green waters of Puget Sound.

  “Damn you Zara! Damn you!”

  I looked out the windows at nothing in particular. The past four weeks or whatever it had been had been a roller coaster. The last thing I ever expected was not only that Zara left, but the manner in which she left.

  The ringing of a phone brought me back to the moment. I mindlessly walked toward the sound. It wasn’t my cell, so I knew it wouldn’t be Zara. I peered at the caller ID and shook my head. It was mother, Grace Tudor. I know mother’s unhappy with me over the current situation between me and Zara. She loves Zara as though she were a daughter, and as I had found out over the past few weeks, mother tended to side with Zara on some matters.

  “Hello Mother,” I answered as I took the phone, walked over to the sofa and sat down. I picked at the material on my jeans and waited for what I had coined my ‘daily scolding’. “To answer your question before you even ask, I just got off the phone with Zara a few minutes ago.”

  “And how is she, Amadeus?”

  “The same, I guess. I really don’t know, Mother. There’s nothing new to tell you.”

  “So you still don’t know where she is, or when she’s coming home?”

  Grace Tudor, my mother, the essence of class and sophistication, but she’s like a lioness when it comes to her family.

  “No. I’ll tell you like I told her Mother-Peter offered for me to meet up with him while he’s on the road. I think it would do me some good, ease me back into the swing of things.”

  “I see. What was Zara’s answer, Amadeus?”

  “I don’t think she cared much for the idea; or at least the idea of not knowing where I am or how to reach me.”

  “I can’t say I blame her. Amadeus I know you’ll do whatever you want to do, but I’ll say this anyway. I don’t think you need to be going off – whether it’s with Peter or someone else. You don’t need to be going out on the road touring. You need to be mending your relationship with your wife.”

  “Mother, I appreciate your and Dad’s concern, I really do, but I’ve made up my mind, I’m going. I need to get away. Maybe if Zara can’t reach me, she’ll think a little harder about coming home and fixing things.”

  “You know if you do this you might lose her.”

  “If that’s what you want to think, that’s your choice, Mother. Zara was the one who started all of this. I think she needs a taste of her own medicine. Everything will work out Mother.”

  I could tell by Mother’s tone of voice she was upset with me, and the best thing I could do would be to end the conversation.

  “Mother I’ll call you when I know better what I’m going to do.”

  “Amadeus, don’t do this, please.”

  “Good bye, Mother.”

  “Amadeus…”

  “Mother Angus is here. Let me go. I’ll call you later.”

  The only way for visitors to gain access to the residents of the building was one of two ways. Be on a resident guest list or have the security in the lobby clear you. Since all the tr
ouble started, security had been tightened in the building.

  “Promise me you won’t do anything rash.”

  “Good bye Mother.”

  I walked over to the front door to wait on Angus. While Angus was a good diversion from Mother, I knew I’d probably get a similar scolding from him. Little did I realize what Angus was going to do to try and change my life to fix his own mistakes. I opened the door and leaned against the doorframe as I waited on my older brother.

  Angus Tudor stepped off the elevator looking nothing like his stage persona. Angus was front man for his own band, Interpol. Instead he was dressed as if he were going sailing, not attired in the normal grubby jeans he preferred.

  “Come on and get yourself changed A, we’re goin’ sailing.”

  “And how do you know I would even want to go out sailing?”

  “Because you haven’t been in ages and I think you need to get out and clear your head,” he replied as he walked past me and into the foyer. “And don’t even try and argue with me because it won’t work.”

  “I wouldn’t think of trying to argue with you.”

  “Well, at least you haven’t gone totally stupid on me. Come on, go get ready.”

  “You have somewhere specific in mind?”

  “I’ll leave that up to you. You’re the sailor, not me. I’m just along for the ride and to get your butt out of this house.”

  An hour later we were motoring out of the marina and out on the sound. Angus sat in the cockpit, his baseball cap turned around backwards, hiding his long, dark brown hair as he watched the sights around us.

  “I know,” Angus began, “you’re determined to go and meet up with Peter on the road. I get that. I get that you want to give Zara a taste of her own medicine, but instead of doing that why don’t you take the boat out for a couple of weeks. Hell, I’ll even come if you want company.” Angus stared at me from behind his dark tinted sunglasses.

  “Angus, all I want to do is get away from here for a while. Peter’s made an offer. I won’t be alone; he runs a pretty tight ship, so I think I’ll be well looked after. I need to get back to performing. Besides, this boat and sailing in the islands would just remind me of her.”