She was about to play a difficult etude in C-sharp minor. Her warm-up ended with the scale of that key. Her heart was pumping blood anxiously around her body by now. She felt warm and slightly clammy. Performing at the Royal Albert Hall wouldn’t feel this bad.
She withdrew her hands from the keys, closed her eyes and drew some slow breaths, mentally rehearsing the first few bars, visualising her fingers moving effortlessly to the right notes. The thought of the ending, the newest and weakest part, broke her concentration. Now she was aware only of the piano and the gleaming white keys, waiting to burst into sound.
The piece, about three months old, had more-or-less reached the stage where she could rely on her fingers to churn out pages of notes in the right order, at speed. Her head was taking a backseat. Responses were automatic. She could just about forget notes and concentrate on quality of sound production which rested on careful listening. Nathan would have no understanding of the painstaking slog that had brought the piece to this stage in its journey, but she hoped he’d appreciate the music itself.
She opened her eyes seeing only the piano keys and threw herself without warning into the piece. It felt under control from the start. The notes were crisp and clear, the hand balance good. It progressed, relentlessly.
Naomi felt the music flow through her, her senses alert and engaged. She listened hard to her own playing. She could hear her teacher’s voice at times, issuing the kind of instructions she gave during lessons at certain points in the piece: less of this; more of that. Phrasing, Naomi. Tie your leg to the stool if you must, but don’t blur the texture with over-pedalling. They’d become an integral part of the piece now. She responded as if Olga were there, guiding her through it, drawing everything skilfully from the inside, out.
After what felt like a short time, Naomi found herself approaching the dramatic climax of the ending. Speed of attack, Naomi. Conscious she’d made only one tiny mistake in the whole piece, she knew this part would be the real test. Without holding back and playing safe, she unleashed all her energy into the final bars – a cascading sprint of broken chords which ended with four triumphant crashing chords.
She was trembling when her hands moved away from the keys. On weak limbs, Naomi stood and turned to face Nathan’s applause. She took hold of the edge of the piano and bowed. She’d had a whole lesson in Professional Skills, about bowing. Nathan laughed and clapped harder, mouthing wow, shaking his head.
Eventually, his hands stilled. ‘Whoa. That was amazing. How do you remember all those notes?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You have to know.’
Naomi allowed a smile. ‘It’s like driving a car. If you tried to explain a long journey you might come unstuck, but if you get in the car you can drive where you want to go without thinking, as long as you’ve done the journey enough times. It’s a bit like that.’
‘It’s unbelievable.’
‘Did you like the piece?’ Naomi asked.
‘I loved it. It was brilliant,’ he said, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her forehead. ‘Who was it?’
‘Chopin, Nathan.’
<><><>
Nathan begged for more. Naomi refused. She led him out of the college into a murky evening, Nathan still raving about her performance. A man stood watching them across the road. Her smile disappeared and Nathan’s voice faded. He was wearing a grey hooded top. It took her back a couple of days when she’d dropped her money on the pavement. He was stocky, but not very tall, unless his width only gave the illusion of him being average height. Siobhan’s man? Same one? As soon as Naomi made eye contact, he lowered his eyes and began to walk away from the college, his back to them.
Nathan had gone quiet. He was watching Naomi now, following her eyes. ‘OK Naims?’ The guy in the hooded top didn’t look back. Naomi retracted her glare and looked at Nathan blankly.
‘Who was that?’ Nathan asked.
A coincidence? Could it be the same person? It wasn’t worth mentioning. ‘No one I know.’
‘You look upset,’ Nathan said. ‘Has he bothered you?’ The man was still hurrying away, head down. Naomi shook her head.
‘Sure?’
‘I’m sure.’
He studied her for a long moment until she forced a smile.
‘OK then. D’you want to see where I live?’ he asked her.
‘I’d love to.’
Nathan took a lingering look down the road. Hoodie man had shrunk in the distance by now. Nathan slipped his arm around Naomi’s waist and ushered her in the opposite direction, snatching a final glance over his shoulder. ‘Let’s go then.’
14
They weaved through the city centre and Naomi barely recognised anything until they passed Chethams, which jolted bad memories. As a pupil at Chethams she’d gone home every weekend and had never really explored the city, or wanted to. Oxford Road where the college stood, was so well equipped, she could survive off it without needing to walk for more than ten minutes in any direction. Curry Mile was in spitting distance. There was an Olympic sized swimming pool opposite the college. She’d walked to one concert at the Bridgewater Hall and thought she could find it again, probably. She’d taken occasional trips to the clothes shops and jumped on the odd tram that zipped through the streets.
Scores of people had moved into the centre over the last decade, Nathan told her as they drove along. The property developers had rubbed their hands together and got to work. New flats and apartments had sprung up everywhere and old buildings had been converted into flats. She knew Manchester had lots of water, but she hadn’t seen any of it until tonight.
Nathan lived next to Salford Quays in a two bedroomed second floor flat, only affordable because the rent was shared. It overlooked the canal and was a short walk from rows of bars and restaurants. He shared the place with a guy called Guy. Nathan and Guy had a double bedroom each, and otherwise shared a tiny bathroom and an open plan lounge that had a kitchen at one end. A square no-nonsense dining table divided the room.
Naomi walked around the small flat which looked exactly like two blokes lived in it. It was minimal and trendy in a Cityish kind of way and was sort of tidy and sort of clean. For privacy, clinical vertical blinds hung in all the rooms except the bathroom, which had a pull-down black blind.
‘This is Guy’s room,’ Nathan said, knocking a couple of times on a sealed white door. Silence. Nathan opened and closed the door quickly. The room exhaled a faint smell that told Naomi it needed airing – a phrase Camilla liked a lot. The only detail Naomi had gathered, was that the duvet was charcoal-coloured and the curtains striped. ‘He’s out a lot,’ Nathan told her. ‘Serious girlfriend.’
The walls were white and bare in the narrow hallway. The lounge walls told pretty much the same story except for one small black-framed picture of Manchester City’s logo, which Nathan was quick to point out, was Guy’s. There was a black leather sofa and matching chair, a TV, a wooden cabinet and a matching coffee table resting on a plain beige rug that lacked any detail other than colour and shape.
They wandered into Nathan’s room. A pile of clothes draped over a black office chair that sat beneath a desk holding his laptop and a tower of books and DVDs. The bin was stuffed to capacity like the wicker washing basket by the desk. His double bed dominated the room and looked luxuriously comfortable. It was neatly made. Plain navy duvet cover with four plush pillows.
‘I like it,’ Naomi announced, as she perched on the bed next to Nathan and continued to scan the room. ‘It’s nice.’
‘Nice?’ Nathan laughed. ‘It’s a stereotypical bachelor pad. It’s warm and dry. It must seem like a pit to you compared to the mansion.’
Naomi smiled. ‘I don’t live in a mansion, as you’ll see next week.’ Nathan put his arm around her and pulled her closer. ‘It’s just a big house.’
‘Yeah right,’ Nathan smiled. ‘I bet your bedroom’s in the west wing with an acre of garden out of the window. Am I close?’
Naomi dropped her head an
d laughed.
Nathan was watching her closely. ‘Hey, you do want me to come to this dinner, don’t you?’ he asked, voice dropping, taking on a more serious tone.
Naomi looked at him, confused. ‘Of course I do.’
‘Why do I sense there’s something you’re not happy about? You’ve hardly mentioned it at all.’
Naomi sighed and tried to organise her thoughts. After toying with a few excuses, she decided honesty was best. ‘I’m just worried,’ she said, trying to picture herself in a room full of people which included Nathan and Camilla.
‘Your mum?’ Nathan asked. ‘Has she said she doesn’t want me to come?’
‘She doesn’t need to, but she can’t stop you can she.’ It wasn’t a question.
Nathan reached out and touched her face. ‘Do you want me to come?’
‘You’ve already asked me that.’
‘I’m asking again. Look at me this time.’
Naomi looked into his eyes and struggled to feel bad about anything. He didn’t blink until she answered. ‘Of course I want you there,’ she said, ‘But . . . ’
Nathan had moved closer. ‘But . . . you feel torn between doing what you want to do and keeping your mum happy, who doesn’t want me there. And she doesn’t want me in your life because I’m not good enough for you.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘From her point of view it is,’ he said gently, as a matter of fact. ‘Why deny it?’
Naomi couldn’t and didn’t deny it. She fell quiet. ‘Well, I don’t care what she thinks.’
Nathan’s mouth flickered, but it never became a smile. ‘Me neither,’ Nathan examined her eyes. His lips were parted. ‘Except that you do care, don’t you? What you really meant was that you wished you didn’t care.’
There wasn’t time to reply. Nathan’s mouth was upon hers now, silencing even her thoughts. Her attention was fixed on the warmth and movement of his mouth and the firm clasp of his arm around her middle. She felt the presence of the empty flat and their aloneness in it. The kissing intensified. Naomi pulled away. She reached for her necklace and zipped it quietly from side to side.
‘Can I tell you something?’
‘Course.’
‘It’s nothing to do with my mum.’
‘Tell me,’ he whispered, very close.
Naomi didn’t know how to. Nathan, watching her closely, must have sensed it. ‘Tom?’ Naomi nodded, glad she didn’t have to start a discussion by saying his name. She winced every time she said it out loud. ‘He let you down – badly, you said.’
Naomi nodded again, relieved Nathan was in tune and had remembered.
‘It’s been on my mind,’ Nathan said. He went quiet and waited.
‘Well,’ Naomi began. ‘He two-timed me with . . . someone else. I caught him kissing her. Anyway, I broke up with him that night, but I felt horrible for ages afterwards.’
‘I know the feeling,’ he said, nodding, eyes focussed middle distance. He came back. ‘It happened to me with the girlfriend I had before Lucy. We’d been together for about eleven months. It was with a friend of mine. Well, ex-friend.’ He paused to sigh. ‘The humiliation . . . Maybe that’s a guy thing. I kept wondering what the other guy had that I didn’t. In the end you have to let it go or it screws you up.’
Naomi managed a tight smile. ‘I don’t think it’s a guy thing,’ she said. ‘I felt the same. I let it go with the girl, but not Tom.’
‘Ever dream about him afterwards?’ Nathan asked.
Naomi felt a surge of energy that she realised was pent-up anger. ‘A lot. It drove me nuts. And now . . . ’ her voice trailed off. Her head emptied.
‘And now you’re worried that I’ll do the same, which makes you feel insecure and afraid to commit, just in case. You’re not sure you could take another blow.’
‘Yes,’ she said, eyes filling unexpectedly. ‘That’s it exactly.’
Naomi blinked the tears back. Nathan took one of her hands and played with her fingers, weaving them into his own. ‘Well, all I can say is that if we ever bump into Tom whatever-his-name-is, don’t point him out to me if you don’t want me to break his jaw. And as for you,’ he said, pausing to run his fingers along one eyebrow and down her cheek, ‘I promise I won’t hurt you. I have the same issues. If things hadn’t gone wrong with Lucy and with Judas, as I call her, I’d never have met you. So am I sorry they hurt me and let me down?’ He let the question hang a moment. ‘No. If it led to meeting you then it was worth it. I’d have to be insane to lose you.’ Naomi couldn’t speak. ‘I’m not insane, but I’m in love with you which feels a bit like insanity. I’m going nowhere, OK? You’ll have to trust me on that.’
A tear escaped and Nathan smudged it away with his thumb. She nodded. He kissed her again and pressed her onto her back and wrapped his arms around her until she became worried for a different reason.
‘Nathan,’ she said, breaking free, finding herself reaching for her necklace again. She was more conscious of it this time and it was more difficult to reach with Nathan on top of her. ‘There’s something else.’
‘Tell me later.’
‘It has to be now.’
Nathan sat up and pushed his fingers through his hair and puffed out all his breath. ‘What could you possibly want to tell me right now?’
‘About a promise I made. With God.’
‘What?’
Naomi bit her lower lip. ‘Remember before we got together that I promised God that if we found each other . . .’ She couldn’t end the sentence.
‘Oh yeah?’
She paused, feeling utterly childish and ridiculous. ‘I promised that if we got together, I wouldn’t . . . you know . . . do anything.’
‘Do anything?’ He didn’t get it at first. Then his mouth fell open and his eyebrows raised and it was obvious he’d just caught on. ‘What?’ He couldn’t manage any more.
‘I’m really sorry.’
Nathan panted a couple of times in disbelief. ‘Why that? I mean, anything but that. Why didn’t you promise to help build an orphanage or something?’
He was only half serious, but it didn’t help. ‘Sorry,’ she said again.
‘Don’t apologise.’ Nathan shook his head. ‘Look, it’s me who should be apologising. If I’d known –’
‘You didn’t know. Look, the promise . . . was more about me, not us. I never expected to find you. I promised God that if I got what I wanted, which was you, I’d wait until I was married before – ’
‘I get it,’ Nathan said, fixing his eyes on hers. They were intense, as if things were churning inside his head. ‘So marry me,’ he said abruptly. It was Naomi’s turn to be speechless. Nathan shifted quickly so that he was hanging over her again. Naomi lay back and examined his glorious face, which was unsmiling. ‘Did I just ask you to marry me?’ He produced a dazzling smile which took her breath.
‘I think so.’
‘And a minute before that I told you I wasn’t insane?’
They both laughed. Nathan held her in his arms, pressing her to his chest.
‘It was impulsive. You’re frustrated.’
‘It was impulsive,’ Nathan said, ‘but it feels right. Insanely right. Marry me.’
Naomi pushed Nathan back to assess his face again. ‘You’re not serious.’
‘I think I am.’
‘I can’t marry you.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because,’ she said, pausing. ‘Just because.’
Nathan leant down and kissed her face all over, avoiding her lips so she could talk. ‘Because?’
‘We don’t know each other.’
‘I know everything about you. I feel like I’ve known you my whole life,’ he said. ‘Next excuse?’
‘It’s crazy.’
‘I agree. But loads of people are crazy. It doesn’t mean they’re unhappy.’
‘I’m a student.’
He was kissing her neck by now. ‘And I have a job. I won’t get in the way of your st
udy. I have a flat here and you’ll need a place to live next year. Move in with me.’
‘What about Guy?’
‘Compared to marriage, Guy is not a consideration. Besides, he’s already talking about moving in with his girlfriend.’
‘What about travelling?’
‘Let’s go together for our honeymoon if we can stretch to it. I have money saved, but I’m not asking my parents for any. We’ll manage with what we’ve got.’
Naomi went quiet. Nathan took a long look at her before he kissed her again, tenderly this time, in a way that made her ache for more. Her head was scrambled, but something inside her was leaping for joy. What’s happening to me?
Eventually Nathan withdrew and sat up. He put his head in his hands and rubbed his face. ‘OK, calm down,’ he said quietly to himself. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I’m being selfish and stupid. Of course I’ll respect your promise even though I don’t get it. It’s just the thought of never being able to touch you . . .’ He shook his head and dropped his head in his hands and groaned. ‘I’ll get my head around it. In the meantime, we’ll have to go out, not come here or go to your room. I can’t be in a room alone with you like this, Naims. I’m a man. Once we start kissing, my instincts steer me in one direction and I’ve never been so attracted to anyone in my life.’
Naomi didn’t know what to say.
Nathan carried on. ‘I lie in here every night thinking of you, wanting you next to me. Does that scare you?’
‘A bit,’ she confessed, smoothing her hair. It excited her too. ‘Mainly because I’ve never . . . you know. I don’t know what I’m doing.’
‘Get in,’ he said, nodding his head towards the bed. ‘Nothing will happen, I promise.’
After a few moments of hesitation, Naomi removed her shoes and climbed under the duvet cover and lay on her back looking at a smooth white ceiling with a dusty blue lampshade. Nathan slid in next to her and held her hand beneath the covers.
‘Don’t come any closer,’ he said. They lay for a few still moments. The silence was kind of charged. It had an electric quality as it stretched a bit. ‘Now you can’t say you’ve never been to bed with a man before.’
Either Side of Midnight Page 17