Musical Beds (21 page)

“Oh, love,” sighed Vanessa. “I know you can’t. You can’t let him go, can you?”

She shook her head, blinking back the blur.

“Where does von Ritter stand in all this?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know about him anymore.”

As if the mention of his name had summoned his spirit, they were interrupted by an oboist called Liz, who popped her head around the door and said, “Ah, Lydia. I’ve been looking for you. Von Ritter wants you. He says to meet him by the stage door.”

The scene of the crime.

“I’d better go,” said Lydia nervously.

“That’s another fine mess you’ve got yourself into,” quoted Vanessa, shaking her head.

“I know. I wish I could have a simple relationship, like you and Ben.”

“Oi. Nothing simple about seeing a man half your age.”

“Sorry. But you know what I mean. All happy and loved up and…
normal
.”

“Go on. You’d better find von Ritter before he turns into Herr Trigger. I’ll see you after the show for a drink, yeah?”

“Yeah. Bye.”

Lydia slouched towards the stage door, unwilling to talk to von Ritter, no matter what he had to say. When he’d made Sarah blow him at the BDSM club, Lydia had been so hurt and upset, but now the incident didn’t seem to figure in her emotional landscape at all. Everything was about Milan again. How was she going to explain this to von Ritter? And what was the point of loving Milan when he couldn’t be loved, anyway? Vanessa was right. It was one big, unholy mess.

Von Ritter was with Sarah when she found him.
Good
, she thought.
Perhaps they’ll get together.

But he didn’t seem very happy with either of them.

“I need an explanation, please,” he said. “Sarah says it’s about what happened at the club, but you said it wasn’t. So whom should I believe?”

Lydia looked at her watch—only five minutes until they were due back on stage. She wouldn’t need to spin this out for too long. She just needed to stonewall him for a few minutes.

“Believe who you like,” she said. “It’s between me and Sarah.”

“Don’t make me angry, Lydia.”

“Would I not like you when you’re angry?” she asked with defiant cheek.

His brow shadowed and she took an instinctive step back. There was her answer.

“We will talk alone after the concert,” he decreed. “But I want both sides of the story. Otherwise I have no choice but to apply to the trustees to take disciplinary action against you both.”

“I bet you’d enjoy that,” said Lydia, and she saw Sarah’s lips curve up in a smirk, as if they were sharing a joke.

Von Ritter’s fist crashed into the stage door.

“Lydia! This is serious!”

“Ask her again,” said Sarah with a languid glance at a torn fingernail. “She won’t deny it. She’s just jealous because I blew you at the club.”

“Is this true?” Von Ritter looked less than convinced. “We need to discuss it.”

“What’s to discuss? You fucked around with another woman.”

“It wasn’t… It’s not like that. In domination and submission, things can be different. There is sharing and… I should have explained it to you. It’s my fault, I accept that. But I don’t want it to finish things between us. That’s the last thing I want.”

“Perhaps I should leave you two…” suggested Sarah.

Lydia reached out and grasped her by the wrist.

“No.”

The call to the stage for the second half cut into the dispute, echoing between them.

“Fine,” said von Ritter. “You’d better go. Lydia, you come straight to me after the concert. I mean it. Straight to me.”

His tone was still authoritative, as ever, but there was something else mixed in as well—a plea.
Don’t leave me.

Well, it was his own fault, she thought crossly, following Sarah back to the wings. What the hell had he expected her to think? Did he really think she wanted to be with a man who wouldn’t fuck her, for some unknown reason, but was happy to pop his cock between any available pair of lips? It was too much to ask.

Milan was surrounded by his friends and fans, so she wasn’t able to go up to him and tell him how wonderfully she thought he’d played. But she would. She would find him and tell him, straight after the concert. To hell with von Ritter.

The Elgar was even better received than the first half. There was a standing ovation, ecstatic applause, and curtain calls for Milan, who held his violin aloft like a conquering hero, basking in the camera flashes that surrounded him.

He strode off the stage, all whole again, the man Lydia had fallen in love with. She could see that the audience felt the same way about him. He had a way of capturing hearts that was so effortless. If only he had one himself, she thought sourly.

But no. She wasn’t going to think ungenerous thoughts about him tonight. It was his moment of glory and, whatever he was guilty of, he had worked hard for it and didn’t deserve to have it spoilt.

“You win,” said Sarah, sidling up behind her in the Green Room while they watched Milan getting mobbed by enthusiastic admirers. “He was brilliant. I have to admit it.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Look, I don’t want us to be enemies—”

“Oh, do fuck off, there’s a dear.”

“Fine.” She went and joined the edge of the hangers-on.

Milan reached out for her, drawing her into the centre with him. Lydia felt as if she couldn’t breathe. She physically ached to push Sarah away and take her place.

Milan, tiring of his courtiers, began to cut through the crowd, hand in hand with Sarah, fending off the back-slaps as he went.

He noticed Lydia and stopped—something in her expression seemed to halt him in his tracks.

“Lydia?” he said.

“Congratulations.” The word came out in a loud whisper, not the way she had intended.

“Thanks,” he said uncertainly.

“Can I talk to you? In private?”

“Milan, come on.” Sarah tugged at his hand, but he extricated himself.

“Sure,” he said.

“Milan.” Sarah’s voice was urgent.

“You go to the bar. I’ll be one moment. Yes?”

“No.”

“Yes,” said Milan firmly. “Go.”

Sarah shut her eyes in defeat and moved onwards with the thirsty mob.

“Can we go somewhere? Outside, maybe? I need to avoid Karl-Heinz.”

“Why?” Milan sounded amused as they slipped into the corridor that led to some back stairs and one of the many emergency exits.

“You know he caught me and Sarah scrapping earlier?”

“Scrapping?” Milan frowned, not understanding.

“Fighting,” she translated.

“No shit! I thought Sarah looked…less polished than usual. Why were you fighting?” He chuckled, seemingly delighted at the idea.

“Over you,” said Lydia bluntly.

They had arrived at an emergency exit. Milan pushed the bar and opened the door, taking them out into the clear summer night.

“Let’s go into Kensington Gardens,” she suggested. “It’ll be quiet there.”

Chapter Fifteen

They walked on in silence, avoiding the crowds that were milling out of the concert hall. They crossed the road and headed into the park, only stopping when they arrived at the Albert Memorial.

Another woman’s monument to a hopeless, deathless passion, thought Lydia. How appropriate.

They leaned against the railings, looking up at the high-gothic architecture for a moment before Milan spoke.

“So? What did you want to say? And why were you fighting over me?”

“Are you and Sarah very…close?” Lydia tried to pick her words carefully, having no idea how Milan was going to react to this.

“You want me to talk about Sarah? To you? I don’t think I can.”

“Okay, I’ll put this another way. How do you feel about Julius Hackmeyer?”

Milan turned to her, frowning in bemusement.

“I think you know. I think von Ritter will have put you in the picture.”

“Partially. He’s never told me the full story. But I know there’s bad feeling between you.”

Lydia paused. She was going to have to blurt it out.

“And he and Sarah…”

“Oh, I know she used to see him. That’s what interested me about her.”

“You wanted to get some stupid revenge on Hackmeyer by dating his ex-girlfriend?”

“No, no, not revenge. It just seemed…fun. A good joke, you know? And I like her.”

“But did you know she was still seeing Hackmeyer?”

Lydia felt Milan’s arm, which had been resting against hers, tense. The answer to that was no, then.

“She isn’t.”

“She is. I saw them together, in an…intimate setting. They planned to let you find out before the concert. I think they were hoping I would tell you—that’s why they went to the same club as von Ritter and I on the same night. They wanted it to unsettle you, sabotage your big moment.”

“You are serious? You saw them together? Where? Some club?”

“A club von Ritter goes to sometimes.” Lydia wasn’t comfortable with the idea of disclosing her dabblings in BDSM to Milan.

“They were dancing? Kissing?”

“No, no. It was a, you know, a sex thing. Sex club.”

“Bondage, that’s what Hackmeyer likes. You were at a bondage club. Lydia.” He turned to her, his face strained but trying to find the light side, trying to hide the hurt. “You didn’t tell me you liked that stuff. You should have told me.”

“Yes, okay. It was that kind of club. Milan, are you all right?”

He stared at the monument silently for a while before nodding.

“I was never serious about her.”

“But it must hurt.”

“To be played for a fool? Yeah. But that’s what I am, Lydia. So I can’t blame her for it. I am a fool.”

“You’ve been through a lot. And you’re coming out the other side. You were amazing out there tonight. Your whole future has just gone up a gear. More than a gear.”

“Hey.” He ruffled her hair. “You don’t need to tell me. Everything will be fine, I know. Was that fight… Was that because you were trying to stop her getting to me? Before the concert?”

“Yes.”

“And this is why I’m a fool.”

She looked up at him, at his haunted eyes and his fist wrapped tight around a railing, whitening his knuckles.

“Is it?” she whispered.

“To let you get away.”

“To drive me away, you mean.”

“Yes.” He nodded sharply, conceding the point. “I drove you into von Ritter’s arms. God, I’m such a…”

He let go of the railing and stepped back, casting a glance in the direction of the Albert Hall.

“You are worth so much more than I am,” he said, looking back at her. “I have never deserved you. I wish I could have cared about you the way you care about me. For whatever reason, I wasn’t up to it before. If there’s any way you could let me prove myself, show you that I am up to it now—”

“Oh, Milan. You’ve had a shock. Perhaps we should go inside.”

He swallowed. “Okay, I understand. You are with von Ritter now and you are happy with him. I have missed my chance.”

He turned to go.

“Milan.” Lydia hurried after him, touching his hand, stopping him in his tracks. “I love you, you know. I’ll always love you. But you’re so hard to love. You make it so hard.”

“I know. Thank you for everything.” He shook her off and strode onwards until she gave up trying to chase him and sat down on the grass, alone under the starlight. Her head was still between her legs when she heard footsteps across the park.

She looked up, feeling groggy and unfocused.

“Milan?” she said.

A dark figure dropped to a crouch in front of her.

“Is that who you were hoping for?”

“Karl-Heinz. Shouldn’t you be inside with the TV people?”

“Shouldn’t you?” He put a finger on her cheek, caressed it with his knuckles. “You ran away before we could have our talk.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes,
’Oh, that’
,” he said with some asperity. He sat down beside her on the grass, clasping his hands around his knees. “What aren’t you telling me, Lydia?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You are upset with me because of what I did with Sarah at the club. That’s understandable.”

“Thanks for that. Good to know you understand.” But Lydia’s tone was bitter.

“Look, in BDSM this happens. I should have asked you if you were okay with it. It was wrong of me to just go ahead. I thought you were in that headspace, but you weren’t. And, I’ll admit, the way you reacted to seeing Sarah made me want to…make you jealous. I’m sorry. Very sorry. I promise it won’t happen again without your consent.”

“Dead right it won’t.” Lydia heaved a sigh.

“You’re saying it’s over? Lydia, please. Please give me another chance. I haven’t been this happy in years.”

“Haven’t you?” Lydia looked closely at him. He kept things so tightly under wraps, she never knew when he was happy and when he wasn’t. “Really?”

“Really. I won’t emotionally blackmail you. I won’t say I need you or any of that. But it would make me so happy if you would let me prove myself to you. I can be the best man for you, I know it. I’ll show you.”

God, he sounded exactly like Milan, just minutes earlier.

Oh, Milan.

She still loved him. Von Ritter’s words flew over her head, skimmed around her heart, because it was Milan she still wanted, always, forever.

“I don’t think I love you,” she said.

“But you could. Give me the chance to show you.”

“Perhaps I need some time alone.”

“Fine. Take a holiday. We’re due a break anyway. But, when you come back, you come back to me.”

Lydia stood up.

“Yeah. Maybe,” she said. “Shall we go back?”

She allowed von Ritter to take her arm as they walked slowly back towards the concert hall.

“You weren’t fighting about me, were you? You were fighting about Milan,” said von Ritter levelly. “Do you still love him?”

Lydia couldn’t answer straight away.

“I’ll always love him,” she said. “Always. But loving someone and being able to live with them…”

“Two different things. I see.”

Von Ritter was silent for the remainder of the walk.

As they walked through the doors, en route for the Green Room party, von Ritter said, “One day you’ll stop loving him. One day you’ll love me.”