Pervade London

by Fewings, Vanessa

  No…

  He pulled away, hesitating in the doorway. “He shouldn’t have told you that.”

  The room spun around me.

  “I will always love you, Em. Please keep the Strad.”

  “I won’t go to the audition.” Grief tightened its noose. “Not if it puts you in danger.”

  He stared at me as though memorizing every line of my face.

  I thought my heart would shatter over this unfathomable ending of us.

  He turned away from me and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him.

  No, no, no…

  He wouldn’t leave me like this…

  A chill surged through my body. I’d made this decision for him in the moment I’d insisted on attending my audition, my selfish words blazing a trail into my empty future. Grabbing the door handle, I yanked it open and stepped into the hallway.

  Xander was gone.

  I stumbled back through the door and hurried into the bathroom, collapsing on the floor. I hugged my knees, staring at the pristine white tiled walls and the walk-in shower with gold-covered taps. Despite all this luxury, I felt trapped instead of privileged.

  I don’t remember how long I sat there, feeling numb and hopeless with my life in tatters.At some point I staggered to the bed and collapsed on top of it—still fully clothed—and plunged into a fitful sleep.

  As soon as I woke, my thoughts spiraled around scenarios of how I could still save our relationship. We should have left London like Xander had suggested. We would still be together if I hadn’t selfishly put myself first.

  Xander had been gone for half the night, but it felt longer. How could I face the world again?

  In a daze, I managed to get dressed, not even bothering to shower. I just wanted to go home, I wanted to feel normal and I refused to believe I couldn’t go back to our place. If Xander was selling the flat, I still had time to at least gather my stuff.

  I wheeled my suitcase out of the room with one hand while carrying my violin case with the other, and headed for the lift.On the ride down to the foyer, I tried psyching myself up so I could act casual in front of the hotel staff.

  I made my way over to Reception as loneliness inched up my spine. “I’m checking out.”

  Alone.

  The receptionist looked up from her screen. “Did you enjoy your stay?”

  Not even a little.

  I bit my lip. Reporting what had happened during the night could put Xander in even more danger. At least that’s what James had insinuated.

  “It was fine.” I parked my suitcase next to my feet.

  “Which room?”

  “377.”

  She tapped her keyboard. “Huh.”

  “Something wrong?” I blinked at her in confusion.

  She looked up. “Do you have your keycard?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “How about the credit card used to secure the room?”

  “No, but I need to make sure it’s been paid for. Try looking under the name Wells.”

  After a few moments, she shook her head. “No one under that name either.”

  I lay my violin case on the desk. “Check under Emily Rampling. Or Xander Rothschild.”

  “So you play?” She gestured at my case.

  I nodded.

  “I had lessons as a child,” she said. “Sounded like cats screaming.”

  She clicked away, and her confused expression told me she hadn’t been able to find our names either.

  “Has it been taken care of, then?”

  With a raised finger, she gestured for me to wait as she answered a phone that refused to stop ringing.

  She turned away, and I used that moment to grab my violin and suitcase and leave.

  The taxi ride home felt excruciatingly long, but it gave me time to think. I knew Xander would make his way home to me somehow. Or he would at least call me. His walking away last night had been to protect me in that moment. It was so him—putting me first and making sure I had everything I needed.

  But Xander’s not his name.

  I tried to ignore that haunting voice of doubt.

  Relief washed over me when the taxi drew close to our building. I trudged on in and stepped into the lift, riding up to our floor in a daze.

  I walked down the hall and saw that our door had been left ajar.

  Sweat snaked down my spine as I nudged it open and stepped inside.

  The blood drained out of my face and my breathing became unsteady. The flat was empty. It had been stripped of everything during the few hours we’d been at the hotel.

  Leaving my suitcase and violin just inside the door, I ran from room to room and checked each closet. The furniture, wall-hangings, every last item in Xander’s office—everything was gone. My photos, my musical sheets, and my beloved old violin, they had been taken as well.

  This wasn’t a break-in—they had wiped out my life.

  I reached into my handbag and pulled out my phone, pressing the power button to turn it back on. Despite James’ threats, it was time to call the police.

  I stared down at the screen in disbelief as it failed to come on. It didn’t make sense. I’d charged it back at the hotel.

  The terror I felt made it hard for me to breathe.

  I walked by the sitting room and noticed a black duffel bag on the floor in the far corner. I approached it cautiously. Kneeling beside it, I unzipped the bag and my throat tightened. Hundreds of bank notes were inside.

  Catching a sudden movement in my peripheral vision, I spun around.

  James leaned casually against the doorjamb, his tall frame filling the space easily. My fateful mistake was falling for his gentlemanly demeanor when we’d first met. The Savile Row suit and his sophisticated pose reflected a man who always got his way.

  He’d followed me back.

  I wondered how he’d react when I set his money on fire.

  I pushed to my feet. “Where is he?”

  “Five hundred thousand pounds—” He gestured to the duffel bag.

  “Don’t want it.”

  “You’re going to need it, Emily. Your bank account no longer exists.”

  “You don’t have that kind of power.”

  He gave me a humorless smile. “The money is enough to pay rent for a few months and take care of—”

  “This is my home. I’m staying.”

  He pushed off the doorframe and strolled toward me. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “What have you done to him?”

  He chuckled.

  “This isn’t funny.”

  “You’re very dramatic.”

  “You just kidnapped my boyfriend.”

  “He came willingly.”

  “Didn’t look like it.”

  “That’s because you don’t have the full picture.”

  “I need to talk to him.”

  “Ah, but he doesn’t want to talk with you.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  James looked around at what had once been our home. “He used this as leverage.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He warned me he would start a new life if I didn’t give him what he wanted. Xander can be very stubborn. You’re the collateral he used.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “This was what he wanted all along—to come back on his terms.”

  “No. He didn’t.”

  “That money is a small sum to get you resituated. If you follow my instructions to the letter there will be more. A lot more.”

  “I told you I don’t want it.”

  “I’m willing to place three million pounds in a deposit box at Coutts.”

  “Fuck you and your money.”

  “You’ll change your mind.”

  I pointed to the bag of cash. “I’m going to take this out back and burn it.”

  “At least donate it. A lot of mouths can be fed with that.”

  I stomped toward him. “If you don’t let me speak with Xand
er I’m calling the police.”

  “That would be an unfortunate waste of time. Mine and theirs.” He moved closer. “Not to mention the punishment you’d earn from me, Emily Rampling.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “How did you find him?”

  “You were Xander’s weak link.”

  “How? I did everything he told me to.”

  He gave a shake of his head. “I’m glad that’s not true. Or we wouldn’t have him back.”

  I couldn’t see how this could be true. “What do you intend to do with him?”

  “He merely works for us. And he’s well rewarded.”

  “Please, let me see him.”

  He reached out and tipped up my chin. “Be a good girl and stop asking questions. Let me get you to a hotel.”

  I slapped his hand away.

  “Cross me, Emily, and you’ll walk through hell.”

  “I’ll keep going.”

  “I’m fond of Churchill myself, but if you’re going to quote him at least have some grasp of what his job entailed.”

  “Oh, like you do?”

  James looked at me with a sympathetic expression.

  “I won’t let you get away with this.”

  “The only reason you’re still alive is because Xander used it as a bargaining chip. I have agreed to his terms for now…as long as you follow my instructions.”

  My chest heaved. “I need to see that he’s okay.”

  “He’s not coming back.” James reached out and took my hand in his, holding it tenderly. The comforting gesture surprised me.

  Then he pulled off my engagement ring and tucked it into his pocket.

  “Give that back to me!”

  “Your life with Xander never happened, Emily.”

  “I have friends who’ll believe me.”

  “They never met him, right? He’s simply a figment of your imagination.”

  He walked out of the sitting room and headed toward the front door.

  I followed him, caressing my ring finger. A faint dent in my skin was the only evidence I was engaged. “Can I stay here tonight?”

  James pivoted and held my stare. “No. This is your last chance to accept my offer to get you into a nice place.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “We’re changing the locks to this flat within the hour.” He headed out and left the door open behind him.

  My breathing was so erratic I knew I was close to having a full-blown panic attack.

  I slammed the door shut and collapsed against it, letting my body slide to the floor.

  Even with James gone, his presence lingered.

  I hugged my knees to my chest as I replayed his words. How had I helped them find Xander? There’d been no sharing of photos on social media, no sharing of phones, no breaches in privacy with my friends. But James was right…Xander had never met anyone in my life.

  We were both in danger because of me.

  And I’d never forgive myself.

  I stood resolutely in front of the crimson velvet curtains on the grand stage of the Barbican Theatre.

  It had been my audition to seize, my moment to shine.

  Becoming a member of the London Symphony was a real possibility for me now—but only if I’d somehow managed to impress my austere audience of six with Chopin’s “Nocturne” in C-sharp minor.

  I’d played my Strad like my life depended on it. And in many ways it did. The dream and agony of loss had left each sweep of my bow like silent tears for my lost lover.

  My life had been stripped to nothing.

  If felt like years, but it had only been two nights ago that everything had begun to fall apart after I’d left Kitty in the bar at The Savoy. I’d hunted down my wayward boyfriend after seeing him walking into Simpson’s-in-the-Strand. And a day later James Ballad had swept in and out of my life like a tornado, taking my boyfriend with him.

  Finally coming down from the adrenaline rush of my performance, I braved a look around the grand auditorium, only now noticing the beauty that surrounded me.

  This had been my one chance to accomplish my dream.

  With my Strad by my side, I tried to read the faces of the judges.

  The place was empty other than the men and women who sat in the front row…the gatekeepers. They would decide who would continue on to the next stage of the submission process. All of us who played today wanted a coveted place in the string section. Only one of us would be chosen.

  Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the fact my life had been ripped apart. But I felt small in the vastness of the theatre. All those empty seats rising into the dark, waiting for people who would probably never hear me play.

  The agony of possible failure resonated through every cell of my body. Had I failed to bleed out the notes needed to win my place amongst them?

  There came a nod from Patrick Woo, the senior conductor…the man I’d needed to impress above all others. “We’ll be in touch, Ms. Rampling.”

  With my instrument clutched to my chest, I hurried to the edge of the stage and stepped down into the dimness of a hallway.

  “Is that a Strad?” asked Salme, a fellow student at the Royal Academy.

  The dark-haired Baltic bombshell proudly held her precious Carrodus Guarneri, a violin known to have been played by Paganini himself. After relaying this fact to the class, she had made it a point to mock our instruments.

  Usually I avoided her. She was about to audition, and God, she looked like a star in that short, glittering dress.

  “I’ve never seen you play that violin in class,” she said, looking surprised. “Is it yours?”

  I nodded, trying to rise out of my melancholy.

  “What a waste.” Her posh accent sliced through my dignity.

  Putting her cruelty down to nervousness, I walked away.

  “I’m surprised you had the guts to audition,” she called after me.

  I turned to face her.

  “Stay away from the bridge.” I nodded to her violin. “I heard you practicing earlier and thought you were playing a horror score. Then I realized you were attempting Mozart.”

  “Go back to serving tables, Amelia.”

  “It’s Emily. And I teach violin.”

  “Then I feel sorry for your students.”

  “Aren’t you keeping them waiting?”

  “I’m just giving them time to recover from your dumpster fire of a performance.”

  I stood there staring after her as she mounted the steps to the stage. Then I took a calming breath and hurried away.

  Halfway down the hall, I peered into the room where the others were waiting. They were probably going to throw all sorts of questions my way, and I wasn’t ready to face anyone. I continued on.

  Over a decade’s worth of lessons…four years at the Royal Academy of Music…a lifetime preparing for one moment.

  All of it leading here, to these last fifteen minutes.

  And I just knew I’d fucked it up.

  Inside a darkly lit room, I placed my bow and violin on a corner armchair and then headed over to a long wooden table. Pushing myself onto it, I lay back, stared at the ornate ceiling, and tried to clear my thoughts.

  I’d only slept a few hours since Xander had walked out of our room at The Biltmore. I hoped no one discovered my hiding place.

  Nothing to see here.

  Just a girl with no talent.

  Before visiting The Savoy, I’d been happy with my life. My relationship wasn’t perfect, but Xander was wonderful to me and I loved him completely. A part of my soul was missing. He’d taken it with him.

  How could I be expected to carry on as though none of that had happened? I’d been forced out of my home after my boyfriend had left with no explanation. And all I had to my name was that suspicious bag of money.

  I’d shoved it into the cupboard of the room I’d booked at the Travel Lodge in Covent Garden. I’d placed a permanent DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door until I figured out what to do with all that cash. If I was go
ing to keep it.

  Why must they keep these places so cold? I mused, shivering.

  Digging my fingernails into my palms, I drew the pain from my chest into my hands. My life was spiraling into the darkest place and I had no idea what to do next. Finish college? Then what? I sure as hell wasn’t going to be a member of an orchestra; that was for sure.

  “Well, I’ve heard better.’’ The familiar voice came from the doorway.

  I didn’t need to lift my head for a look to know who it was.

  “Come to gloat?” I continued staring up at the ceiling.

  “I wished I’d bought ear buds. Let’s put it like that.”

  I turned my head to glare at James.

  He’d gone for a three-piece suit again—the kind that made him look Brooks Brothers suave, not like a man who enjoyed wrecking lives. His black hair framed stunning sharp features, the raw beauty hiding his sinful leanings.

  I huffed out a sigh. “Do you enjoy ruining everyone’s lives?”

  “Are you blaming me for your poor audition?”

  “Just for the kidnapping of my boyfriend. Things like that tend to fuck up one’s performance.”

  “How many times do I have to say it? Xander came back to us willingly.”

  “We both know he was forced to. And Xander’s not his name, apparently.”

  “He likes to play hard to get.” He shrugged. “It’s his thing.”

  “He looked scared.”

  “That’s because he likes you.”

  “He still loves me.”

  “Of course he does.”

  That didn’t help. “So now that you’ve ruined our lives, what else is on the agenda?”

  “Would you be surprised to hear that I want you to do well?”

  “You’re a bit late.”

  “Em.” His tone carried sympathy. “Where are you staying?”

  “I’m sure you already know.” My throat tightened. “I want him back.”

  “I know.”

  “I have nothing left.”

  “You have everything to live for.” He closed the gap between us.

  I refused to look at him. “I don’t even have the will to get up and leave this place.”

  “You’ll adjust. Everything will work out.”

  I shook my head wearily. “I failed monumentally.”

  James grabbed my ankles and pulled me toward him. “I have a message from Xander. He wants to see your dream realized.”