Adieu To Love

Chapter 8

I've been staying long after the rehearsals for practice. Keeps me diverted from my fucked up life. They had been pretty impressed when I demanded the concert hall to remain open till four o'clock. They were very obliging. But of course, I had bunked for long so they'd be happy to sap me alive.

They pretty well know I'm wanted especially since I did touring gigs throughout England at the age of eighteen. I did attend music school and had achieved flying colours. Well it was my passion. A passion I had gone through great pains to attain and without a pint of regret. I was ambitious. Still am.

Judging by their employees, they are short of people especially since they have a scot brat for a pianist.

Ah! Paganini's Violin Concerto No.1 in D major. Rondo Allegro Spiritoso. A glorious piece! Yet a very taxing one for the lead violinist; none other than Landsborough. Nevertheless, it's a neat business to peacock about.

Speaking of practice, that Spencer actually stays behind just to listen me practice. Or is that really the only reason? I have very funny notions about that little man. He ain't straight that's for sure. Especially the way he looks on the lot of male players.

Thank heavens he doesn't stay in the concert hall but in that ferret hole of an office. Who knows what he'd get from my side. A beating for sure. He's more moustache than man. The sad part is I can't piss him off or its me in the dumps. I wish I could! Maybe I will when I'm about to quit...

Gee! Now its four o'clock. Best be off. I remember I have to stop by the police station. Whatever damn matter it is, it better be worth my time.

...

What's that? I heard something. A rattling of the drums or screeching of a piano being dragged. Someone's at the back stage?

Nevermind! Must be one of the janitors.

For now, I better make a run for it before I make a delightful coincidental encounter with Spencer. That being not at all pleasent. At least for me.

Finally out and about! In fresh air. I'll walk to the police station. No need for a stupid taxi with ridiculous charges.

Uff!

"Watch it! You-"

Oh damn --- If it ain't the brat.

"Uh. Uh. I'm sorry for bothering you Sir!" Throwing a little curtsy, she ran away.

Good! For once you did something I preferred you to. I'd be happy if you kept it that way.

That brat is up to no good I swear. One of these days-

But anyways, after the police station, I'd have to go see dad. Whether I like it ot not; I have to invite him to the funeral. Damn social obligations, My foot!

And Charles too. Can't let those 'frivolous sensibilities' of his get ignited if I don't call him to the funeral. A call to him should do it.

But a call to dad wouldn't do. He always ignored my calls. But then he is just content on getting some money out of me and that's that.

Well, now I'm in 150 Waterloo Road. It'll take an hour to reach Brick Lane if I take the Queen Victoria Street on foot... and off I go!

Whilst I'm in this oh-so-delightful escapade let's rap up Charles' end of the work.

It's ringing. And ringing. Damn man pick up the phone! Ring. Ring. Hmph! So much of availability.

Ah! Finally, he picked up!

"Please leave a voi-" No need to hear further. A voice machine. Must be in court using that eloquence of his in charming idiots. Mr. Anthony a text message should do very nicely for you and that's all your gonna get from me.