by Meg Buchanan
“Ben,” said Mr Turner. “Play the piece you learned last week. I am sure Adam would want to hear it.”
Ben screwed up his face. “Adam doesn’t want to hear some kid play the piano.”
“Of course, I do,” said Adam. Geneviève sat with him on the couch, he had his arm around her. He seemed to have given up any pretence she was just a friend he was taking to the airport. Good. And no one had asked any questions. They just accepted her. “What is the piece?” asked Adam.
“‘Song of a Knight in the Darkening Wood’,” said Ben.
Adam nodded. “I really liked that one. I was a lot older than you before Mrs Smith let me try it.”
Ben looked happier about playing and went over to the piano. He lifted the lid then opened the piano stool and found the piece of music.
“I don’t know it by heart yet,” he said as he put the music on the holder and sat on the stool.
“That takes a while. Play it anyway.” Adam took his arm from around her and leaned forward, elbows on knees ready to listen.
Ben poised his fingers over the keys and then started playing. The classical piece seemed very complicated. Hard to believe he was only ten. He was good. She looked at Adam. Is that how he learned to play too? It seemed a long way from playing with Stadium in the pub.
Then it seemed to be Adam’s turn. What would he choose?
“This is something I’ve just finished,” he said as he eased himself off the couch. “See what you think of it, Lily.”
That surprised Geneviève. He’d talked about Isaac writing the music for Stadium but hadn’t mentioned he wrote too.
Now it was her turn to lean forward. What would his music be like?
He sat on the stool at the piano and did a jokey thing, linking his fingers together and stretching them like a concert pianist.
“It’s called, ‘When?”,” he said and played a brief introduction.
Then he came in with the first line. Not deep and growly the way she’d heard Luke singing on the recording but soft and soulful. A love song to someone he hadn’t met. All about wanting to meet that perfect person. She wouldn’t have guessed that would be what he would write. She could imagine it recorded with backing. A lovely song. And nothing like the ones he’d played her that Stadium did. Did the others even know Adam was writing too?
At the end he stopped and gave a bit of a bow.
“That’s lovely,” said his mother. “Do you have anything else?”
“No, nothing else new.”
“Have you written other songs?” asked Geneviève.
Lily answered for him. “Heaps,” she said.
“What about you?” Adam asked Lily.
“I’ve got something nearly finished but it’s not ready yet. Can you help me with it? Mr Collins says it has potential.”
“If Collins says it has potential, it means it’s really good,” said Adam. “What time do you have to go to school tomorrow, you’ve got study leave haven’t you?”
Lily nodded. “That would work. I don’t have to be there until 11.00. We could look at it before I go to school.”
“Who is Mr Collins?” asked Geneviève.
“My old music teacher. He put Stadium together.” For some reason she’d thought they were just a group of friends who got together to form a band. It was strange that none of the rest of Stadium knew about Adam writing songs.
“Time for bed, Stevie,” said his mother.
Adam went back to Geneviève on the couch. “What do you think?” he asked as he flopped down beside her.
“I loved the music,” said Geneviève.
He could see Lily looking at him like she wanted him to do something for her. That’s right she wanted to use his car while he was away. Fine with him.
He squeezed Geneviève’s hand. “You’re biased. We fed you, you have to say that. Beside you said you were tone deaf.” He looked over at his father. “Lily can use my car while I’m away,” he said. Better to present it as a fact than ask permission.
His father nodded.
“Thank you, thank you.” Lily flew across the room and hugged her father. Then flew at Adam. “I’ll keep it fit for you.”
“Make sure you do.” He prised Lily off him.
“Lily you need to be sensible, and pay for the petrol,” said his father.
“Yes, I’ll be good,” said Lily,
Adam stood up. He’d done what Lily wanted. Now everyone would wander off to their rooms to do homework and read. He had other plans.
“Coming for a walk?” he asked Geneviève.
“Will it be cold outside?”
“Not too bad,” he said. “Come on.”
His father stood up too. “Put your car in the spare garage, son. There’s room.”
“Okay.” He got the key for the garage door from its hook. One day his parents might get automatic doors that worked with a remote, but he guessed it wouldn’t be until one of the existing doors came off its hinges.
He wandered outside with Geneviève.
“You never said you write songs,” she said.
He shrugged. “It’s just something I do. Isaac’s the songwriter.”
“I thought it was good.”
He shrugged. “It’s all right but I don’t think Stadium could use it.”
“Why not? It’s beautiful.”
“The wrong sound and it’s been done before.” He went over to the garage, unlocked the door and swung first one and then the other back.
When he got back Geneviève had her arms folded and shivered.
“It’s cold,” she said.
Yes, it was cold, but if they went inside again they’d be with his family and there would be no privacy. He wandered back to the car and opened the passenger door. “Hop in,” he said.
“I thought we were going for a walk. Are we going for a drive instead?”
He hopped into the driver’s side and drove into the garage. “You can’t get much more secluded than this.” He turned off the engine, leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll shut the doors.”
Sitting in the dark in the garage, the talking turned to kissing and then to love making and ignited the fire he always felt when he touched her. Then they were fumbling through clothes like teenagers on a date.
Chapter Seventeen
Next morning, Adam sat at the table having toast for breakfast. His mother and father had gone. They had a meeting in Tauranga. So much for spending more time with them. He could have just gone straight to Auckland with Geneviève yesterday.
Still last night had gone well.
And maybe Geneviève was right. The songs he’d been writing were good. He might talk to Luke and see if they could use some of them in Stadium. Or maybe he could do the odd solo. A different sound in a concert wasn’t always a bad thing.
Susie and Ben had left for school. Lily was in her room, when she came out he’d go through her song with her. He remembered study leave. He’d used it for everything except studying. Maybe Lily was more conscientious than he’d been.
Geneviève was in Susie’s room changing the sheets of the bed she’d slept in. He’d told her to leave them. Nobody would mind sleeping on sheets she’d only slept on one night. But she hadn’t taken that seriously.
He got up from the table to pour himself another cup of coffee and he heard a yell from Susie’s room.
“Adam!” And Geneviève sounded frightened again. He put the coffee pot down and took off up the passageway. He’d thought this was over. He thought they’d left all Geneviève’s problems in Hamilton.
He found her standing back from the window, trying to look out through the lace curtains.
She turned to him, staring wildly as he came through the door.
“He’s here. Mason is here,” she said desperately.
“How do you know?”
“I saw his car go past. I know it’s him.” She went back to the window, pushed the curtain to the side again and looked out through the gap she’d made.
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“Is he there now?” he asked.
Geneviève let the curtain drop and shook her head. “He’s gone past. How did he find us?”
Lily came into the room. She must have heard Geneviève’s calls too.
“What’s happening?” asked Lily. “Is someone looking for you?” Lily looked at Geneviève.
Geneviève nodded. “My husband.”
Lily’s eyebrows went up. Okay, last night he and Geneviève weren’t exactly acting like she was married to someone else.
“You can keep that bit of information to yourself,” he said to his sister. This was turning out to be complicated enough without his mum and dad thinking he was a home wrecker.
How would Mason have found them? It had to be from the car registration. Couldn’t think of anything else that would lead Mason here.
“Doesn’t matter now,” he said. “What do you want to do?” They could confront Mason again. Point out they still had all those threatening messages.
“I don’t want to see him. Either he will still be angry, or he will be upset and apologising, and I don’t want anything to do with any of it. I want to go now. I want to leave before he works out I am here in this house. He can’t be sure yet because he drove past, but I am sure he will come back.”
“Okay, we’ll work out a way to leave here without Mason finding you.”
Adam thought about it for a moment. At least he’d put the car in the garage, so Mason couldn’t use that to identify the house. But how could they get away without Mason knowing. He looked out the window and this time saw the silver Mercedes cruising past, still not turning into the driveway. For some reason Mason didn’t seem to know the house number. But there was no number to identify the house. It just said vicarage on the gate. It might be enough to keep Mason confused for a while.
But he only had to stop a local and ask and they’d tell him where the Turners lived.
Maybe they could get to the bus stop, Lily could even drop them off, and catch a bus instead of waiting until the middle of the afternoon for Luke to pick them up.
He took out his phone and checked the bus timetables. Nothing until after lunchtime. Too long. He didn’t want to be hanging around and risking Mason finding them.
Geneviève watched him, looking anxious. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Checking bus timetables.” Maybe they could leave from somewhere else. He checked the timetables for Thames. A bus left in an hour. That would give them time to get there with a bit of time to spare.
He looked at his sister. “Want practice driving my car?” he asked.
She nodded. “Why?”
“Drop us off in Thames.”
“When?”
“Now?”
“But I’m supposed to be studying. And Mum and Dad think you are staying tonight.”
“I’m sure an hour’s break won’t do you any harm and you can tell them something came up.” He turned to Geneviève. “Get your things. When we see Mason go past again. We’ll give him time to be way down the street and then we’ll leave. He won’t think of looking for us in Thames.”
Geneviève nodded. She picked up her bag and put it on the bed. She took out a hoodie and shrugged into it then zipped the bag back up.
“I’m ready,” she said.
He turned back to Lily. “If you want the car while I’m away, drive us there and bring it back. Otherwise it’s going to be stuck in Thames.” Lily nodded. “Get the keys. I’ll get my stuff.”
He hadn’t meant to leave in such a hurry. He’d planned on a nice quiet time with his family until Luke came to get them. Once they were on the move he’d ring Luke and let him know what they were doing. Tomorrow he’d stay with Geneviève until she caught her plane and then he’d go and find the others. They should be just about to check in by then. Perfect timing. And this way he got Geneviève all to himself for the whole day.
They waited in the kitchen until they saw Mason go past again and then headed for the garage.
“What now?” asked Geneviève. They’d made it to the bus stop in Thames with seconds to spare and then travelled to Auckland on the bus. She watched the scenery passing. The last time she’d seen it she’d been travelling with Mason in his car. She’d been happy, newly married and looking forward to her new life. Mason had promised her she’d enrol in university and she’d be able to finish her psychology degree, but none of it had happened.
She didn’t know what her parents would think of her leaving Mason, but they’d welcome her back and all she wanted to do now was get home to them. Spending time with Adam’s family had just confirmed that for her.
“Why don’t your parents have a television?”
“They don’t think it is good for kids. We didn’t have it when I was growing up either.”
She watched the way his lips moved. He was lovely. Not just to look at but inside too.
“We didn’t either,” she said. “We had generator for power, my father only turned it on when we needed it. My father didn’t think we needed television enough to run the generator. Enrico and Julio would get cross about it.”
“Are they a lot older than you?”
“Enrico is two years older than I am and Julio is four years older. They have always just been happy to work for Papa. They couldn’t understand me wanting to travel and study.”
“Will one of them come to fetch you when you arrive in Montevideo?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She hadn’t rung them yet. “If they don’t want to there is a bus from the capital city to Tacuarembó I will catch that, and they can come and get me from there. It will be like when I was at University.”
“That’s good. I would hate to think you were stranded.”
“Your family is nice,” she said.
“Yeah. Lily had better text me that she got home safely.”
Geneviève laughed. “Is she going to have to text you every time she drives your car.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
She lay her head on his shoulder. ‘Enrico and Julio are over protective too. It is not so different here for little sisters, I think.”
“What is different then?” he asked.
“The gauchos put the sheepskin on top of the saddle instead of under it when they are saddling a horse. It makes it nice to ride.”
“A bit hard on the horse.”
Geneviève laughed. “Perhaps our horses are tougher than yours.”
“They must be.”
They talked quietly all the way to Auckland. They really hadn’t talked a lot. All the time they had been together it seemed there were people around or they were running away from Mason. She felt safe sitting here beside Adam. Why couldn’t it have been him travelling around Uruguay last year?
The bus dropped them off in Manakau and they caught another that would take them into the city.
“Should we find somewhere to stay the night first?” she asked Adam.
“I guess we should.” As least at the bus stop this size the information centre was right there. He headed over to the counter. The quickest way would just be to ask the woman there and sort out a room.
“And what type of accommodation were you looking for?” she asked Adam and glanced doubtfully at Geneviève in her hood rat outfit.
“A nice room in a hotel,” he said. “One that’s not too far to walk to.”
Most of the things worth looking at in Auckland could be walked to from here.
She turned back to her screen and in a few seconds had made the booking.
“How do we get there?” he asked.
“Walk one block down and look your left. You can’t miss it.”
Chapter Eighteen
Geneviève watched Adam sit on the end of the bed in the hotel room he’d booked. They were on the second storey with a sea view from the balcony.
“At last, just you me and a bed.” He lay back, arms stretched above his head. He grinned over at where she was standing, and her heart re
ached out to him. She could feel that wanting she always had when she watched him. He was really the loveliest looking male she’d ever met and the nicest.
“Come here,” he said.
She went over to him and stood between his knees. They only had twenty-four hours left. She shouldn’t waste it looking out the window wondering if Mason would find them again.
He sat up and wrapped his arms around her. “I can’t believe we’ve only got a day now.” He buried his face in her sweatshirt and breathed in, like he wanted to remember the smell of her.
She brushed his hair back from his forehead. And they shouldn’t waste this little bit of time they had by thinking.
She reached down and lifted his t-shirt over his head.
“We should spend most of it making love,” she said as he emerged from the t-shirt. She gently stroked the muscles of his shoulders. So smooth and warm and strong.
“I think we should go get lunch,” he teased. Then lifted her t-shirt and sweatshirt over her head. “No bra?” He raised his eyebrows at her.
She shrugged. “I need to do some washing. I am running out of clean clothes.”
“Now?” he asked.
“No. I don’t think I need clean clothes yet.” She pushed him back, on the bed again and stretched out on top of him. Then rested her elbow on his chest, her chin on her fist and studied him.
A little echo in her head wondered if he wanted her to have a shower before they made love the way Mason would have after being in the bus and then walking here. She never seemed to be clean enough for him. But Adam didn’t seem to think she needed to be cleaner.
He pulled her up a little, so he could kiss her mouth. The kiss long and slow and filled with all the yearning she’d seen in his eyes that first time he saw her. Her body responded to the memory of his lips and fingers on her. Touching, tasting.
He rolled over with her, so he was on top. His lips drifted to the sensitive spot under her ear and then worked over her collar bone and down to her breasts. First one and then the other, his tongue circling each nipple and then moving on. Then a meandering pathway down to the waist band of her jeans. And then he stood up.