Making Music

by Ling, Maria

  "You'd better wake Cathy up," Stuart said, crunching his beer can in one hand and pushing it into the bin. "There won't be any left for her otherwise."

  Peter nodded agreement, and disappeared through the door. Stuart got the second lasagne out of the microwave and helped himself to a third of it.

  "Greedy," Karen said.

  "I didn't have any lunch."

  "That's no one's fault but your own."

  "True," Stuart admitted easily. "Are you going to try and take it off me, Karen?"

  "No," Karen said reluctantly.

  "Good."

  Jen smiled. Stuart in a bad mood was extremely intimidating; Stuart in a cheerful mood was infectious. Her heart, which had already been lifting after her performance on the guitar, began to soar.

  "Aren't you going to sit down?" Sue asked, watching in disapproval as he picked up his plate in one hand and his fork in the other, and started putting the food away without ceremony.

  "No."

  "Have my chair," Jen said. "I've finished in any case."

  "Stay where you are," he said composedly. "I'm not moving."

  "Impressive," Karen said, as the last forkful disappeared. "I make that six seconds flat."

  He shrugged.

  "I was hungry."

  "Let's go and sit in the living room, and have another fire," Rhoda said. "I want to make the most of it while I'm here."

  "Yes, let's," Sue said enthusiastically, gathering up the dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher.

  "I'll do coffee," Jen said bravely, making Stuart choke on his second can of beer. "I am able to do it, you know," she added, in a tone halfway between challenge and appeal.

  "Yes, I know," he said, recovering himself and grinning at her. With a swelling sense of happiness and relief she realised that things were all right between them again, and that she had not destroyed everything. "I know you are."

  "Go on then, Jen," Karen said tartly, but giving her a friendly smile all the same. "Astonish us."

  "I intend to," Jen said, putting her nose in the air, and proceeding to demonstrate her mastery of the art.

  "Amazing," Stuart said, as she held up the finished product with a cautious flourish. "Now don't drop it, will you?"

  "I'm impressed," Karen said.

  "So am I," Rhoda said.

  "Can I have tea instead, please?" Sue asked, and then ducked in pretended fear as Jen turned on her, jug in hand. "Only joking, Jen."

  Jen pulled a face at her and set the jug down carefully on its hotplate.

  "You can all help yourselves," she sniffed.

  "Coward," Stuart murmured in her ear, and she turned around to find him standing very close to her, smiling down at her with the light of mischief in his eyes.

  "That's me," Jen said blithely, and made no attempt to hide her answering smile. She wanted to hug him there and then. It seemed the most natural thing in the world simply to walk into his arms, and throw her own arms around his neck and hold him tight, and never, never let him go.

  Perhaps he read something of her thoughts, for he looked at her for a long moment, before reaching past her and pouring himself a mugful.

  They moved into the living room with the coffee. Rhoda took possession of her chosen corner near the hearth, and Stuart lit the fire. Once they were all comfortably ensconced, Peter and Cathy joined them, having made short work of their own dinner.

  "I love this," Cathy said with disarming honesty. "I'd love to have a real big open fire. It's so cosy."

  Peter smiled.

  "One day," he said.

  Jen looked at the two of them, and thought how perfectly suited they were, and found that she no longer felt envious, but only happy for them.

  "I'm glad we did this record together," she said spontaneously.

  There was a chorus of agreement from the others.

  "We should do it again," Sue said.

  "We should do a whole album," Karen suggested.

  "Just give me plenty of warning," Rhoda said, smothering a yawn. "I'll fly over any time, no problem."

  Stuart leaned back in his chair with every appearance of contentment.

  "Let's see how this one works out first," he said pragmatically. "We can have a listen to it tomorrow morning, before we start on the mixing down. It sounds good now, but with a fresh ear it might not. Maybe we'll want a few more takes."

  "Rubbish," Karen said succinctly. "It's perfect, and you know it. You just want to crack the whip a bit more."

  Stuart said nothing, only drank his coffee, but Jen saw his mouth twist into a smile.

  "I'm going to sleep here on the sofa tonight," Rhoda said. "I'm too tired to keep my eyes open, but I'm far too comfortable to move."

  "I know what you mean," Sue said, yawning.

  "Go to sleep then," Peter said. "Cathy's already on her way out."

  Jen glanced at Cathy, who was dozing quietly against his shoulder.

  They sat there for a long time, talking idly of nothing much, and watching the fire burn down slowly. In the end Peter was the first to move.

  "Come on, love," he said to Cathy, who protested feebly at being woken up. "Let's get you upstairs."

  "I'd better go as well," Rhoda said, stretching her arms and stifling another yawn. "Otherwise I'll wake up at two in the morning and wonder where I am. Come on, Sue, let's get going."

  "I'm not all that tired," Sue said.

  "Yes, you are," Karen said, glancing at Stuart, who was leaning back with his eyes closed, apparently oblivious to his surroundings. "Jen, you wake him. Come on now, Sue."

  "Oh," Sue said, in a tone of dawning comprehension. "Yes, all right."

  Jen opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. In truth, although she did feel very tired, she was quite happy just to sit there watching Stuart doze. She gave Karen a reassuring wave, and the three of them wandered off amiably, and the door shut behind them.

  On the hearth, the last embers were slowly dying, their vivid oranges and reds fading into ashen grey. Jen drew her legs up underneath her, and leaned on the arm of the chair, and looked across at Stuart.

  He looked younger when he was asleep, almost boyish. One arm lay along the armrest, the lines of the muscles discernible under the tanned skin, which was itself enhanced against the white fabric of his T-shirt. The hairs on his forearm gleamed softly in the fading firelight. Long, jeans-clad legs were stretched out underneath the coffee table, with a tassel of frayed threads dangling from one knee. His head had fallen slightly to one side, with the thick dark hair spread over the back of the chair, and the corner of his jaw rested lightly against his left shoulder.

  Moving quietly so as not to wake him, Jen got up and stood over him, tracing the lines of his face with her eyes. He was breathing slowly and calmly, undisturbed by her closeness. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to caress the contours of his face and his neck and his throat, only she did not want to wake him up.

  Even as she began to move her hand hesitantly towards him, his eyes opened, and a strong arm reached out and curled around her waist, and pulled her effortlessly onto his lap.

  "Hello there," he murmured, and there was no hint of sleepiness about him now. His eyes were wide open and sparkling with humour, and he smiled triumphantly at her. "Were you planning to take advantage of me?"

  Jen blushed, shifting uneasily, and then stopping abruptly at the look in his eyes.

  "Don't stop," he said. "I was enjoying that."

  His body was warm and firm underneath her, and his arm held her in a relentless grip, and the teasing look in his eyes faded gradually as he watched her, and was replaced by an intent gaze.

  Slowly he raised his free hand and stroked her hair, rounding the crown of her head and settling around the back of her neck, and then he slowly pulled her head down towards him, and kissed her.

  The touch of his lips on hers sent a shiver through her body, part pleasure, part expectation. He kissed her unhurriedly, letting his tongue explore her l
ips, and then her mouth, and all the while he held her tight against him, and she could feel his heartbeat against her breast.

  She let her hands travel lightly over his broad shoulders, tracing the lines of bone and muscle under the cotton T-shirt, and rested her fingers against the warm skin of his neck. He shifted slightly, and she felt him hardening against her upper thigh, and a shaft of heat passed through the centre of her, and she relaxed into his arms.

  He pulled away, and cradled her head in his hand, and studied her for a while.

  "I'm sorry about the things I said to you this morning," he said seriously. "About not caring what you thought of me -- about not wanting you here. I didn't mean any of it." A rueful smile. "I thought I did at the time, but I didn't -- not really."

  "I know," she said, and stroked her face with her hands, and ran her fingers through his hair. "I know you didn't mean it."

  He slid his hands down over her back, and sat holding her, looking at her, with the characteristic half-smile she knew so well.

  "I never stopped loving you, Jen," he said, and his voice was deep with emotion. "Never. I thought I had -- I thought I'd managed to wipe you out of my life completely. I was determined to forget all about you, and I thought I had. And then -- " he shook his head in disbelief -- " and then one day you turned up out of the blue. Suddenly you were standing right there in front of me, in the middle of Karen's flat, and I realised I never had, and never could."

  "I'm sorry I didn't have more faith in you," Jen said, with genuine, unmixed regret. "I meant that -- I meant everything I said this morning. I should have listened to you that time when you rang. I shouldn't have just assumed the worst."

  "Yeah, well." He grimaced. "I suppose I should have tried harder to explain to you. I should have kept on trying, whether you wanted to hear it or not. The truth is, I was so angry when you put the phone down on me -- angry and hurt -- that I thought: to hell with it. If that's how she wants it, fine. I was too furious to try again. And that," he said in a softer tone, "was a big mistake."

  They were silent for a while.

  "It wasn't the first time," he said reluctantly, "or the last. Usually I manage to get rid of them pretty quickly. It was just bad luck that you walked in when you did. If you'd been ten minutes later, you'd never have seen her."

  "Tell me what happened," Jen said softly, feeling that this was what she should have said two years ago.

  He sighed.

  "They turn up every so often. Usually they know someone who works at the hotel, and they get themselves smuggled in. I raise so much hell with the management when it happens that it's pretty rare, but sometimes one slips through. It's sad, really. They're all awestruck and starry-eyed, and they're just kids, Jen. I give them an autograph, tell them to come back in ten years' time, and send them home in a taxi. There isn't much more I can do."

  He was silent again, running a strand of her hair between his fingers.

  "She was fourteen years old, Jen," he said. "She told me herself. She told me a whole lot of other stuff as well, which I won't embarrass you by repeating. Now tell me: do you seriously believe I would take a fourteen-year-old child to bed?"

  Jen swallowed.

  "No," she said. "Of course not."

  "Well," he said, and his eyes hardened with remembered bitterness, "you were pretty quick to believe it then."

  "Yes, I know," she said shakily. She mustn't let him get angry and hurt again; she mustn't make the same mistake one more time, because then it really would be the last. "I know, and I'm sorry." She paused, hesitating. "She looked older."

  "They always do." He sounded tired. "They think they're being grown up. It's just sad, Jen."

  "I'm sorry," she said again, and knew it was not enough. She had to try to explain to him. "I should have known you better. I should have trusted you. It's just that…I think on some level, I never really believed I deserved you." She bit her lip hesitantly, and then pressed on. "You're so talented, Stuart, and I admired you so much, and you were doing so well, and I think I just felt -- well, inferior, I suppose."

  He stared at her.

  "You're not serious."

  "I am. I don't mean it was a conscious thought I ever had -- I never even realised it until just recently." ‘Today' would be too much of a strain at this point, she decided, for both of them; certainly for her. "I was trying to understand why I had been so quick to jump to conclusions about you, why I had been so quick to believe you weren't faithful to me, as though somehow I'd almost expected it. Suddenly I just realised it was because I was so much in awe of you, I never really thought I deserved you in the first place."

  He said nothing at all for a while, simply stared at her, and she began to wonder if she had been foolish to say as much as she had.

  "You're not serious," he repeated blankly, after the silence had lasted far too long for comfort.

  "Yes," she said, while in her heart she wailed: please God don't let it be another mistake, "yes, I am."

  "Bloody hell," he said, and then suddenly, inexplicably, he began to laugh.

  "It's not funny," Jen said, recovering some of her dignity.

  "It is," he said, restraining himself with an obvious effort. "You, Jen! I suppose you still haven't realised -- no, you haven't, have you? -- we're all in awe of you!"

  "Who's we?" Jen asked, mystified.

  "All of us. Me, Pete, Karen, Rhoda, Sue -- all of us. Cath nearly passed out when she heard you'd agreed to be on the record. She thinks you're the best guitarist ever -- she knows both your albums off by heart. You should hear her babbling on about grace notes and modulations -- she floors me with it, I can tell you."

  Jen looked at him open-mouthed.

  "You really have no idea, have you?" he said, tenderness growing in his eyes as he spoke. "Jen, you have a gift -- an absolute gift. And you just don't realise it at all." He looked at her for a while longer, and then said slowly, "I think maybe that's the thing I've always loved most about you. You're the most unconceited person I've ever known. You really have no idea just how good you are."

  Jen found her voice with an effort, and then realised she did not know what to say.

  "You broke up with me, and ruined my life -- " he spoke with wry humour now, all the bitterness gone -- "because you didn't think you deserved me. Do you know what that makes you, Jen?"

  "Yes, I do," Jen said jubilantly. "It makes me a complete idiot."

  He grinned at her.

  "That's exactly what it makes you."

  In a gush of emotion, wanting to laugh with sheer relief, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him to her.

  "And now," he said, his voice still quivering with suppressed laughter, and his hands edging irresistibly up underneath the hem of her cotton blouse to caress the smooth skin of her back, "I don't know about you, but I reckon I've got two years to make up for."

  She leaned back a little, and looked deep into his eyes, and smiled at him.

  "Wasn't it worth waiting for, though?" she asked teasingly.

  "I don't know yet," he said, moving his hands to the front of her body, and starting to undo her blouse buttons. "I'm about to find out."

  "No, we can't," Jen gasped, unsuccessfully trying to stop him. "We can't -- not here! Suppose someone walks in!"

  "They won't," he said, with easy confidence. "Didn't you notice how they raced each other to the door, as soon as they saw the chance to leave the two of us alone together? No one's going to walk in."

  "It seems you noticed it," Jen said primly, pulling her dishevelled garment closed over her chest, and fighting off his questing hands.

  "Of course," he said, grinning unabashedly. "I owe Karen a favour -- a big favour -- and I mean to tell her so."

  "You will not!"

  "No?" Despite her best efforts, he was easing the blouse back over her shoulders, and bent to kiss the bared skin affectionately. "You'd rather I didn't tell her how grateful I am to her -- " a quick twist, and the blouse was irredeemably off
her arms, and trailing on the floor -- "for arranging this?"

  "She didn't!"

  "Right." He undid her bra with a single brief movement of his fingers which had lost none of its expertise in the two intervening years, and eased it carefully away from her breasts. Then he moved his lips gradually over the skin of her neck, and over her breast, closing gently on her nipple, which hardened at the contact.

  Jen opened her mouth for a final protest, and found that none came. Instead she lay back against the armrest, unconsciously pushing her nipple a little further into his mouth, and drew a deep shuddering breath as his tongue gently began to circle it.

  "Oh, don't stop -- please -- " she breathed, as he raised his head.

  "I'm not stopping," he said, smiling at her, and pulling her bra off over her unresisting arms. "But I'm going to make you a bit more comfortable."

  He undid the button on her jeans, and then the zip, and then slid his hand underneath the unyielding fabric and eased it off. Drawing her legs out, and kicking the jeans onto the floor as well, she curled up on his lap with her hands tangled in his hair, and looked at him smilingly.

  "But you can't be very comfortable," she said with pretended innocence.

  "Not very," he agreed. "Are you going to help me do something about that?"

  "Yes," she said, giving him a shimmering smile, and she drew her hands down over his muscular chest, and over his firm stomach, and slid her fingers inside the waistline of his jeans, and eased out the hem of his T-shirt, and then let her hands travel upwards again, slowly caressing his skin and tracing the hairs on his chest with her fingertips.

  He leaned back in the chair, watching her intently with brilliant blue eyes.

  "Is that better?" she asked softly.

  "No," he said, and there was a ripple of sunlight in his eyes as he spoke.

  "Oh." She bit her lip, pretending to think for a moment, and then nodding as though an idea had come to her. "I know," she said, and she drew her hands downwards again, and undid the button on his jeans, and slid her fingers inside, and then paused as a sudden violent shiver ran through his body.