In Love with Richard
Page 16
The following day he had an answer to his enquiry at the Royal College of Music when he was asked to attend for an interview the following Wednesday week. Richard was excited... If he could gain entrance there, he could start up his school to teach violin.
Meanwhile, he glanced again at the letters he had found in Maya’s bedroom. Should he burn them... or should he continue to read? After all he knew what was in those letters better than anyone else, since he had written them himself, but somehow when he read them again, they could have been written by any lover to his beloved. The words did not seem familiar if the sentiments tore at his heart.
“My dearest darling... You know you are the most beautiful person I have ever met in my entire life... Doesn’t that sound as though I am nearly one hundred years of age and have lived through an eternity... but truly my darling, you ARE my life. You are everything that means anything to me and anything or anyone else is a mirage; a dream, but not as pleasant as the dream I am now having of being with you in the next hour where I will tell you again, face to face, my sweet, how much I love you. How much I adore you and always will.
Richard blushed visibly and put the letter down by his side. He had signed it, ‘Your own Bollocky-Boy’... claiming it to be his own to Maya, even if he found it hard to imagine it was... and he looked out into the kitchen to ensure that Fiona wasn’t anywhere around.
Chapter Twenty-Four
THE DAYS soon passed and he went for his interview at the Royal College, but Richard was nervous and afraid that he would start to stammer again. He sat in the waiting room and his mobile rang, just as he was preparing his voice for stammering and he thought it best not to think too much about his problem, hoping it would go away naturally... It was Fiona on the phone...
“Richard, are you alright? I wanted to come with you but you had left before I got up. I thought you said the interview was not until eleven o’clock this morning,”
It was Fiona’s voice he heard and a Commissionaire who was standing by the door beckoned him to turn his mobile off.
“They are not allowed in here Sir... Take it outside if you want to use it, but not inside.”
Richard moved hastily to the door and told Fiona she should not telephone him until the interview was over and then he would phone her and let her know how he got on, if he had any news at that time. She understood, but still insisted that she should have come with him and he shook his head as he put his mobile back into his coat pocket.
That afternoon, when he came back to the flat, Fiona was waiting anxiously to hear his news.
“Everything seems fine,” he said, “They gave me a test and I think they were rather surprised at how I played, considering I only had a very amateurish tutor.” Fiona clapped her hands and danced around the kitchen floor as the kettle screamed for her to make the tea.
“Were you able to speak to them alright, Richard... I mean...”
Richard anticipated her question and assured her that he didn’t have a stammer and that everything went well in that direction.
“I’m going to take you out to dinner this evening as congratulations on a wonderful achievement and I don’t want NO for an answer... understand?” she cried and threw her arms around Richard, but he did not respond to her as she had hoped he would and she felt rather foolish, however he accepted the invitation and told her he would be pleased to have dinner with her and the smile on his smooth face made her think that perhaps as the evening wore on, there may be a difference in his mood.
They dined that same evening at a famous Italian Restaurant...
“You seem very quiet this evening, Richard?” she said as they were enjoying their meal together, “Is there any way I can help?”... but Richard lowered his head still more and looked away.
“I... I... I ‘m thinking of going into the Royal College of Music only because I want to start a school and teach violin lessons, but suddenly now when I am so very close to going there, I feel so inadequate. I’ve never been very bright, Fiona... How will I fare at the college when I am so... so stupid in other ways?”
Fiona stretched her hand across the table and touched his fingers.
“You play beautifully Richard, so what more do you want? The college would never have given you any consideration if they thought you weren’t good enough, so put those worries from your head and look forward to something that will create a great interest in your life.”
“But... but me... a music teacher. Don’t you want to laugh at that?” he asked and she pressed his fingers still more.
“You play beautifully and if you teach others to play that way, nothing could be more perfect.” Said Fiona, but Richard stared past her and studied a plant that stood near their table.
“This dessert is absolutely wonderful,” he replied to throw off his embarrassment and Fiona felt the world was her oyster since Richard had actually entered into a full conversation with her and was actually interested in her opinion of what he should do... most importantly of all... and the stutter had disappeared...
The following morning a letter arrived offering Richard a place in the Royal College of Music where in order to obtain a teaching certificate, he would have to enter a three year’s course before he could obtain his degree, but this delighted Richard more than he could say. He could commence his course in the August of that year and he stammered a little with excitement as he staggered all around the lounge talking to himself. Fiona had left to go to her work at the veterinary practice. He was alone in the flat and he biffed the air as he jumped with excitement.
Fiona was delighted with the news when she came home that evening and decided to go to the off license to get a bottle of champagne when she remembered that Richard didn’t drink. They had lucozade instead, but he talked incessantly and that was champagne enough for Fiona.
The following morning, Richard was beside himself with renewed excitement after a restless night’s sleep. He thought again of Maya and of the life he led with her and wished she had been with him then to tell him how pleased she was with his achievements. He knew she would be as thrilled as he was... as she was always telling him he had wasted his time doing anything but playing the violin and then a sudden dark thought overtook him... He thought again about the little book he had found in Maya’s flat. The book with all those names in it and he took it out to look through it again. Opening it at random, the name Cramner stood out in bold letters on page C... as the only name on the page and he studied the telephone number for a few moments before the mad idea came to him that this woman or man was only a phone call away and he could find out more about him or her if only he could connect with him or hr in this way. He played with the idea, thinking it would be of little use to him to know anything about this person now that Maya had gone, but the thought persisted with him until he lifted the telephone and dialed the number he saw in the book.
A few minutes passed before a woman answered and for a second Richard was pleased. Perhaps he had read more into this book than was there... Perhaps this was a Mrs. Cramner who had attended the photographerry when Maya was there...
“Hello... I would like to speak to you about a friend of mine. I think you knew her. Her name was Thompson, Mrs. Maya Thompson. She is a photographer,” he said, but the lady on the other end of the line assured Richard that she knew of no ne by that name and she had never visited a photographer by that name either...
“You are Mrs. Cramner... am I right?” he asked, but she answered that she wasn’t and that her name was Woolwich, Mrs. Della Woolwich.
“Oh! I am sorry, I must have made a mistake, please forgive me,” Richard apologized, but before he could put the telephone down again, the woman interrupted.
“I think you may be talking about my brother. He lives here with my husband and me. His name is Clive Cramner. Can I give him a message for you or would you like his office phone number?”
“Hello... Good morning, I would like to speak to Mr. Cramner, Mr. Clive Cramner, if I may,” said Richard trying to make his voice sound a little deeper than it was and a man answered with a very assured and self righteous tone, which shook Richard for a second as he listened more carefully into the phone.
“Yes, this is Clive Cramner... what can I do for you? You know we have several options on kitchen furniture for this month only.”
Richard was stunned.
“Well... well, sir, I wasn’t thinking of kitchens actually. I think you may know a friend of mine, a Mrs. Maya Thompson.” he said, but there was an immediate silence on the telephone when Richard said that as Mr.Clive Cramner suddenly coughed and the voice changed.
“Maya... You know Maya... but what do you want with me,” the man asked, “I... I thought... I thought... Who are you and what is your name?”
“My name is Bright, Sir... Richard Bright, but that really doesn’t matter, you see, I would very much like to meet you and talk about some things that might interest you.”
“Are you a policeman... a lawyer or something... ?”
“No, just a friend of Maya’s but she spoke about you to me,” Richard lied. “Quite a lot actually and I thought it would be nice if we could meet.”
Richard giggled as he covered the telephone with his hand. He was amazed at how this new excitement in his life; like making curious phone calls, eliminated his stammer completely. Perhaps he had found an uplifting science in his life after all...
“Well, I’m not sure that I could make it, old boy,” said Clive Cramner. You see I’m up to the eyes with this new kitchen project and it does take up a lot of my time.”
“Oh that is a pity. I am sure Maya would be disappointed if she knew I had missed you.” Richard went on and then a sudden idea crossed his mind. It was a bold one and could have misfired, but he took the chance.
“Maya thought it would be nice if we could all meet together. You know just the three of us for a meal or something...”he said, but again there was a long pause on the phone before Mr, Cramner answered and his reply shook Richard to the core.
“The last time I did this with Maya, the bloke was a bloody tranny and I didn’t like that at all... I’m totally heterosexual, old boy and make no mistake, but I do like a little diversion now and again, if you know what I mean... You’re not Bertie, by any chance, are you?”
Richard could not believe his ears as he stood with the telephone in his hand gazing at the earpiece.
“No, I’m not Bertie. My name is Bright, Richard Bright, so... we can meet then, yes?” he said and his voice was beginning to feel weak as the man on the other end suggested a meeting place and Richard grabbed a biro to make a note of the place.
“O.K.” said Richard repeating the instructions he was given by Mr. Cramner “9.0pm on Wednesday next... Outside the Bull and Bush... Mansfield House. I’ll be there. S... s... s... see you then.”
Richard put the phone down and scratched his head. He could not believe what he had just heard and when he thought again of Maya and the love they shared between them he became angry. He knew he could never forget Maya, no matter how much he tried. She was HIS LOVE and nothing would ever change that, but he sat down and cried when he thought again about the Cramner fellow... and the ‘tranny’ named Bertie...
Chapter Twenty-Five
RICHARD waited until nearly twenty past nine on the agreed Wednesday when he had arranged to meet Clive Cramner, but there was no sign of him and Richard began to think that Cramner had taken him for a ride and that he would avoid meeting him regardless of the anxiety that Richard thought he had instilled into him. After all, Cramner could have thought Richard to be the police, even when he had told Cramner that he wasn’t. Who believes who these days, he thought as he decided to return to Fiona’s flat and call it a day of defeat, but hardly had he decided to do that, when he heard a shuffling noise coming from a shop doorway nearby.
“Is your name Bright?” a voice asked and Richard stopped sharply in his tracks. He turned to face the person who had spoken to him to discover that the man looked much younger than he had thought he might be from the time when he had spoken to him on the telephone.
“Yes... Are you Clive Cramner?”
The man stood still without answering for a few moments and then he came closer to where Richard was standing.
“I don’t know what sort of game you’re playing, mate, but I only know Maya Thompson from one of her other acquaintances and I don’t know her that well, so what do you want?” he said and Richard stood back thinking for a moment that Cramner was going to hit him; he was so aggressive in his manner.
“I just wanted to know more about your friendship with Maya, as she was a very good friend of mine too,” said Richard and Cramner raised his eyebrows at Richard’s statement.
“You say was a good friend...”Cramner looked closely into Richard’s face as he spoke. “Don’t know quite what you mean by that,” he went on and Richard stood back even further away as Cramner’s eyes were blazing.
“Maya is dead, Mr. Cramner... I thought you would have known that,” said Richard... and Cramner gasped.
“Dead... Dead, did you say, but how... She wasn’t attacked was she?”
Richard was surprised to hear what Cramner said, but things were beginning to form a better picture in his mind by this time as he spoke to Cramner again.
“Why did you ask me if she had been attacked? She could have died from natural causes, couldn’t she?”
Cramner rubbed his chin with his forefinger and thumb.
“Well, let’s face it... That dame wasn’t very natural in what she did for a living, was she?” he asked and Richard became very angry.
“She was a photographer... So what’s wrong with that?” Richard screamed but Cramner only laughed.
“Maya Thompson was a high class prostitute. Surely if you knew her as you say you did, you must have known that... Were you one of her clients too?”
Richard stood rigid with anger... he was furious at what Cramner had said and could so easily have hit him for his remarks, but Cramner continued. “Best of British was that one... and very obliging too. I’ve seen her with four men at a time and...”but before Cramner could finish his sentence, Richard had left him lying on the ground and he walked away from a pool of thick blood that gathered around Cramner’s head...
***
Fiona was waiting for Richard when he arrived home and she noted immediately how agitated he seemed to be, especially when he asked her if she had any brSandy in the flat.
“BrSandy... yes, of course I have some brSandy and whisky too if you want some, but I thought you didn’t touch spirits?”
Richard looked at her with glazed eyes.
“I feel a... l... l... l... l... little un... un... under the weather,” he said and she went towards him as he staggered and fell into a chair by the fireside.
“Richard... for God’s sake what’s wrong. Are you feeling ill? Can I do something to help you?... Yes, I’ll get the brSandy straight away. Just sit there. Don’t try to move.”
Richard mopped his brow with his handkerchief when Fiona went for the brSandy. His hands were trembling and he was afraid to speak... his stammer had returned.
“You are trembling, Richard, “Fiona cried as she brought the brSandy into the lounge and Richard gulped the liquid down in one swallow
“I’m alright, really I am just a little... sh... sh... sh... shaken up as a cyclist nearly knocked me... d... d... d... d... down when I was on my way back here. I’ll be alright in the morning.”
Fiona studied him with care in her eyes
&n
bsp; “Look!” she called out, “you have blood on your shoes. Are you sure you’re alright, Richard?”
Richard had to think quickly on this one and assured her that it was only a simple nose bleed, before he retired to bed.
The following morning when he read the newspaper, there was nothing about the incident of the night before, but just as he was folding the paper to put it away, it was announced on the T.V. news that a man had been mugged the night before, outside a public house in Mansfield House. It could have been an accident, the police informed the public on the news, as the man could have been drunk when it happened. He was known to have been drinking before the event...