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?”

Richard was stunned at how easy it was to connect to someone, even if as obliquely as he had done on this occasion and he took the telephone number of Mr. Clive Cramner’s office.

“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...