Chapter 10 - The Call

The trees swayed in the afternoon breeze. Strolling home, Keith was jumping with excitement. Having looked over the business card again, he couldn’t help trying to place the name. James McNulty. He was sure that surname rang a bell, but he really couldn’t remember where from. But this could be a step in the direction that he’d been seeking for the last three years. Popping into a local shop on his way home, he noticed his friend Tony. “Hey dude,” he called over the shelves.
Tony was startled. “Hey, where’d you come from.”
“I’m just on my way home for an hour or so,” Keith explained. “Are you free to come back for a quick chat?”
“Lets get what we’re getting in here then, I’ll come back for a brew,” said Tony,
Paying for their goods, Keith’s drink, Tony’s sandwich and crisps, they headed back to Keith’s two bedroom house. Situated in the middle of a cul-de-sac, this house was right in the middle of a terrace. Opening the front door, Keith dropped his keys on the little stand he had alongside for that very reason. Indicating the kitchen, he and Tony went through.
“So what happened then bud?” Tony asked.
“Well, where do I start?” Keith replied.
“At the beginning would be useful,” joked Tony. “It’s no good starting with meeting me in the shop.”
“Well of course, that would make the most sense,” Keith went along with Tony’s failed humour attempt. “It’s like this. As I was walking through the park I heard someone playing a guitar. A little challenging above the volume of noise from the toddlers and dogs running around, but being musical I was able to hear it.”
Tony pressed him, quizzically, “Come on, what’s got you beaming like a Cheshire cat?”
“I spoke to a young girl playing the guitar, got talking musically, she let me play it and I got given this by a guy walking past,” he pointed at the business card.
“James McNulty?” Tony was also surprised. “I’m sure I’ve heard of that name before.”
“Me too,” continued Keith. “And that’s not all. The twenty you saw me pay with in the shop…”
“I did notice, where’d you get that from?” Tony interrupted. He was eager to find out what had got his friend so excitable.
“…was also given to me by the same guy who gave me that business card.” Keith was determined to finish his story off. “He said I had a gift and should call back some point today or tomorrow.”
“Really? That’s excellent!” Tony exclaimed. “You shouldn’t hesitate. Something like this doesn’t happen everyday!”
Keith cast a disapproving look over Tony, “I am well aware of this. However I said I’d meet the young girl back at the part at four-thirty. Hopefully she’ll be coming back here and we can talk about music in much more depth.”
“Even so, perhaps there could be something there for both of you,” said Tony. “It’s not impossible, he didn’t hear her play, did he?”
“No, his only interaction with us was when I was playing a cover song,” Keith agreed. “It’ll possibly be better to wait until she’s here and well rested though, as it could be useful in conversing with them.”
Tony shook his head. “I wouldn’t delay my good man, you can always ask them if its ok if you bring a friend along and schedule it for tomorrow if that’s what you really wish to do.”
“I’d rather wait until I had her approval, mate. This would encourage her to stick around to find out whether she could tae her busking to another level too,” Keith was stubborn at times.
“Have it your way. Just don’t be surprised if they don’t accept you for waiting. Anyway, I think I’d better be off as I’m not finished for my day,” Tony reluctantly had to keep it short due to his long working day being only halfway through. “I’ve got a shift to finish. The sooner you call, the better your chances.”
Closing the door behind him, Tony strode down the path and out of sight. Keith glanced up at the clock on the wall. He had about an hour and a half to go before he would have to set off to go back to the park.

After her little fifteen little minute break, she started back up again. The number of people passing through the park had started to increase as parents were navigating their way towards the schools in which their children were. Some had little bits of loose change that they dropped into her case as they passed, relatively impressed with what they were hearing. It was a bit of a breezy afternoon, and her hands were starting to feel a little chilled.

The school gates were already unlocked as they approached. Seeing a number of parents already inside waiting, they realised that they weren’t late. The best of friends from their first days in school, Sam and Fiona were almost always together. Rarely separated, even during the daytime, for company as well as helping each other do various household chores, the two of them had both bore children a few days apart. Sam was the proud mother of an adorable five year old girl, and Fiona was equally proud as a mother, but her four year old boy was a bit of a handful. Luckily for Fiona she had a husband who was out working, but Sam was a single parent after her partner had cheated on her. Also hidden in Sam’s closet was a miscarriage, which was the one secret she had held back from telling Fiona. She didn’t want to tell her because it was her husband who had talked her into it.
As they queued waiting for their kids, they said hello to most of the other parents there who had made their ways across.

With a firm grip on his tape recorder, Stuart was one of the last journalists to leave. Unbeknown to him, he had caught the attention of the a-list celebrity. Making his way out of the conference room, he felt a hand placed upon his shoulder. Turning around and seeing the a-list celebrity stood in front of him, he felt a leap of excitement. Trying not to let his emotions get the better of him, he acknowledged them professionally. “Hello, Miss Howard.”
“Hello,” she replied, in a smooth tone. “You were sat at the front. But through the journalism, I saw something in your eyes that suggested otherwise.”
“Well, work needs to be done to survive,” he began. “To get anywhere the base jobs have to be done.”
“This much is true,” replied Miss Howard. “How would you like to join me at dinner? I shall be ready for around nine this evening.”
Stuart was stunned. Not only had he managed to ask a couple of questions being in the front row, here she was inviting him to share dinner with her. “Would you mind if I bring this along?” he asked, indicating his tape recorder. It was a natural response to anyone who invited him to do anything.
Miss Howard looked at him. “Are you sure that’s wise?” she whispered seductively in his ear. “After all, this is an off the record dinner at my personal bequest. I understand that I am in the public eye but even I must be allowed some time to myself.”
“I guess, one evening off shouldn’t do me any harm,” he agreed. “I daresay it would be interesting to get to know the person behind the talented actress.”
“So you’ll be back here by nine tonight?” she quizzed.
Stuart paused for a moment, thinking rapidly. “Ok. I’ll be here at eight forty-five. You will probably find me at the bar with a coke, as my company failed to accommodate the expenses.”
“It’s not an issue. I’m sure we’ll be able to sort something out. Who knows, you might discover you have a gift that would do you more good to pursue,” she was extremely persuasive. “I’ll probably be here at eight fifty myself. See you later,” she added, with a wink, as she left with her co-stars.

Keith picked up his phone. It was only three in the afternoon, but after careful consideration, he had decided to take Tony’s advice.
“Good afternoon, can I speak to a James McNulty please?” he asked.
“Certainly, I’ll just patch you through,” came the reply.
There was a pause on the line before a little piece of a symphony came playing through. After what seemed like an age, there was a familiar sounding voice on the phone. “James McNulty here, how can I help?”
“Hello James. My name is Keith. I was given a business card earlier this afternoon…” Keith had started to speak but was interrupted.
“Ah, Keith, were you the young man I personally spoke to playing guitar in Limes Park?” James questioned.
“Indeed I was,” Keith replied. “I was there with a young lady, and, if you wouldn’t mind, I’m meeting her again this afternoon. Would you like me to bring her with me at all?”
It was James’ turn to pause. “I don’t personally see what harm it can do. How does tomorrow afternoon around two-thirty sound?”
“Two-thirty would be great. I’ll personally be there myself, but as for my lady friend, it’s still an unknown quantity for now,” Keith finished with. “Look forward to meeting again. Cheerio.”
“Yes I look forward to meeting you to. Bye,” James hung up.
That was that. It was all scheduled to go ahead, whether he was alone or with Grace. Preparing himself with a cup of coffee, black, strong, and sweet, he settled at his laptop setting his alarm for four o’clock, to ensure he had enough time to get back to Limes Park.

It was eight fifty. Stuart was already sitting on a stool at the bar, noticing a few of the other journalists still sitting around in the lounge area. Not to be put off, he glanced over at the television which, playing in the background, had the sentiment of a political news channel about it. The lights were dim, but there was still a hint of daytime around. Turning back to the barman, he was about to order a drink when a voice persuaded otherwise.
“Can I have a glass of white wine, and whatever this gentleman would like?”
He turned back, only to see Miss Howard stood there in a long white dress, down as far as her ankles. Her diamond earrings shone, and he thought ‘They must have cost a small fortune’ before opening conversation. “Good evening, Miss Howard,” he said.
“What can I get for you?” asked the barman.
Turning back to face him, Stuart turned and said, “I’ll just have a pint of coke.”
“You don’t have to just have a soft drink,” said Miss Howard. “I don’t mind paying.”
“It doesn’t feel quite, right,” Stuart responded. “Admirable as the sentiment is, I can’t afford it, therefore it’s only fitting that I have what I would have bought for myself.”
“It’s your choice, but you are welcome to have a drink.” She replied in earnest.
Taking her arm in his, as their drinks were being prepared, he called to the barman, “Just bring the drinks to us, we shall be seated near the window.”
They approached the restaurant and were acknowledged by a waiter. The waiter introduced himself, “Hi, I’m Rajeev. I shall be your waiter for this evening.”
With a couple of menu’s in his hand, he spoke again, “Follow me, window seat as usual Miss Howard?”
“Yes please,” she replied.
Escorting her to her seat, he released her arm from his and pulled out her chair. Once she was seated he moved to the chair opposite and sat down himself.
“Here are your menus,” Rajeev said, placing them down on the table. “Your drinks will be here shortly too.”
“Thank you Rajeev,” Stuart acknowledged, “We will be ready in about ten minutes with our choices I think.”
Leaving them to it, Rajeev went back to the restaurant booking stand.
“Ten minutes? You don’t hang around I take it?” Miss Howard seemed surprised.
“Not usually, I’m generally looking for just myself,” Stuart replied. “Not really much point in waiting longer than necessary. I even know what I’m likely to choose, I just browse the options for a couple of minutes to make sure nothing stands out at me.”
“And by the way, my name is Emma,” she added, quietly. “Though for now, you may feel better calling me Miss Howard.”
She had noticed that some of the people around were also, just like Stuart, just here to get a scoop. As promised, he hadn’t brought down his tape recorder, and briefly taking his menu in his hand, he scanned over it and settled for his most regular dish. “I’m ready,” he said. “I know what I’m having.”
“Already?” She queried. “I’ve not even thought about what I want.”
“I’ve read so many menus over the short time I’ve been doing my journalism,” he responded. “Travelled to many places, eaten many different meal varieties. I usually opt for a well done rump steak, with mashed potatoes, and peppercorn sauce.”
She studied him for a moment. “I think I’ll have the same then. It sounds appetising.”

The alarm sounded. It was four in the afternoon and he had to go back to meet the musician at the park. Keith didn’t want to disappoint Grace, so he closed his laptop shut, locked up his studio, picked up his jacket off the back of the chair in the dining room, and opened the front door. Strolling outside, he turned back and locked up, leaving his two bedroomed house deserted. It was a little bit of a walk but he had thirty minutes to get there.

Clouds had filled the sky. There was a glimmer of sunlight poking through in pockets of blue sky now. Kids were playing football on the green, parents looking on, and motorists were driving or riding their way down the main road on the outskirts of the town. Striding through the traffic, he made his way purposefully towards the park. There were a lot more people about now, with the after school effect. Some were playing rough and tumble, others were playing something like rounders, only using a tennis racket instead of a bat. Nearly tripping over a loose football, he kept his balance by getting hold of the nearest railing. He listened hard, but found it very challenging to pick out the sound of a guitar. The park itself was quite extensive, spanning over two acres of field, with a couple of buildings at the far end. These had tennis courts and were private land. The rest of the park had a couple of children’s playgrounds, a couple of football fields, and a site which was sizeable enough to host open music festivals. It would take him twenty minutes to walk around the entire park, but scanning his eyes around all the known benches from left to right, he happened to see a lone figure, with what looked like a guitar in their hands. Unsure as to whether they were male or female from this far, he started to cross over to head in their direction. Suddenly there was a call from his right hand side. “Hey Keith! I’m surprised you came back.”
Peering over his right shoulder, he saw Grace, sitting at the same bench that he’d met her earlier on that day.
“Hey there, I’m surprised you remembered my name after seeing so many people go past. I’m sure there’s been more than just me interested in your music,” he replied.
“There’s always a few, but very rarely do people ask to play my guitar,” she stated. “So few in fact, that I remember everyone who’s asked me if they could.”
Keith wasn’t particularly surprised by this.
“Have you thought more about my offer this afternoon?” he enquired. “If you do want to come, that chap who gave that business card earlier on, I gave them a call. They want me to meet them at their offices tomorrow afternoon, and you’re allowed to be there too.”
“That really does sound like there’s some progress,” she was a little apprehensive. “But what if they don’t like my music? They only heard a snippet of your covers repertoire earlier.”
He sat next to her, and gazed directly into her eyes. “I’m sure they’ll like your music as it is different. It’s certainly not the same as other buskers that I’ve heard, and on top of that, you make a living of enough income to move around towns, stay somewhere overnight, and eat.”
Knowing that what he was stating was arguably factual, she didn’t have an answer. But for his first question, she was a little more prepared. “You offered me the chance to get a decent night of sleep in a comfortable bed, and now with this offer of speaking to this guy who gave you the business card, it’s a little overwhelming,” she was a touch nervous herself. “But having given the offer a lot of due consideration, I believe it would be unwise for me to pass up such an opportunity. I’d personally be delighted to take you up on your offer.”
With the graciousness of royalty, she stood up, put her guitar in its case, and said, “Lead the way, my good man.”
Talking a little more as they walked back, Keith was almost as nervously excited as Grace was. Neither of them had been given this opportunity, Keith in three years of trying, Grace in five. That was all about to change.
“Do you want to go and get something to eat first?” Keith asked. “You must be hungry after playing all afternoon.”
“Just a little bite on a sandwich will do me,” she replied. “I ate not long after you left.”
Taking her by the hand, he said in return, “Ok, I think we will just go straight back then. I can make a sandwich if you want.”

Upon returning to the house, Keith showed Grace where she was to put her jacket. “I’ll show you the studio in a minute,” he said, as the phone begun to ring. “By all means, there’s the kettle, cups are in the cupboard above it, teaspoons are in the drawer below it. Make yourself at home and I’ll be there in a moment.”
Hurrying to the phone before it went to the automated answering machine, he picked up the receiver. “Hello?” he said nervously.
“Hello, is this Keith speaking?” asked the woman on the other end of the line.
“Yes, this is Keith,” he was even more nervous now. “What’s the matter?”
“I have a message from the business of James McNulty. It’s not good news. He’s been taken into hospital upon suspicion of a heart attack,” replied the woman. “Before he went, he asked me to call you to let you know that the meeting has been rescheduled for eleven in the morning. You’ll be meeting with Jake Andrews instead.”
“Eleven, with Jake Andrews. Send my regards to James and his family,” he shook a little. “I hope it wasn’t a severe one.” Replacing the receiver on the handset he moved slowly back to the kitchen.
Spotting him looking dejected, Grace asked, “Is everything ok?”
“Not really,” he replied. “The guy who gave me that business card in the park has had a suspected heart attack. We’ve got someone different to go and see, at eleven in the morning,” he continued, “but what if they don’t like what we do?”
“I’m sure they will, Keith,” Grace replied. “Surely it would be better heard than ignored again.”
“I guess you’re right,” he stuttered.
With an air of uncertainty, he made them both a cup of coffee as it sank in. This was going to be a rather strange evening.