I was beginning to feel a bit of a spare part in the main party space, so when Meg dashes over and tells me Osh is in the lighting control booth on the mezzanine level of the venue, I hurry to see him.
‘You scrub up well,’ he grins, planting a kiss on my cheek.
‘Why thank you. Quite shocked you’re not in jeans tonight.’
‘You and me both.’ He laughs as he brushes the jacket of his midnight-blue suit. ‘One of my mates working the cameras asked me if I was going to a wedding later. Cheek.’
‘Well, I think you look good.’
‘Which is why I’m glad you’re here, Phee. Welcome to my kingdom. Bit hot and stuffy but I think you’ll agree the view is the best in the house.’
I’ve seen Meg’s work before but this is a step above. Turquoise and blue lights bathe the vaulted glass space; on every table clusters of white pillar candles burn. Silver foliage entwines around each pillar and frames the giant steel staircase leading to the mezzanine. It’s as if the entire room has been transported beneath the clearest waters of the Indian Ocean and it feels as if everything ebbs and flows with a tide.
From here I can see the main stage, the spread of banquet-style tables and chairs and the three smaller stages dotted around them where magicians, dancers and acrobats will perform as the guests enjoy a five-course dinner. No matter where guests sit, they will see things happen. Everything has been tied into the theme with all the performers dressed in a similar colour palette.
‘It’s amazing. Meg is so good.’
‘She is. I’m trying to persuade her to work for me as a production designer, but she said she likes knowing exactly when she’ll be paid too much to leave. Security is for wimps, I say.’
He picks up the lighting sheet and studies it, although I know he’s already spent hours programming the light and effects sequences to run to the last millisecond. The paper undulates a little in his hand.
‘Relax, Osh. This is going to be brilliant.’
‘Hope so. Also hope this is the last lighting gig I have to do for a while.’
‘Have you heard about the commission?’
‘I’ll get confirmation on the sixth, but I’m optimistic. Everything’s ready. We just need that little green light and that hefty cheque from Warner Bros.’
‘It’ll come.’ I sit in the chair next to his and look at the control desk. It’s a complete mystery to me – countless flashing lights, sliders and buttons, all linked to a screen filled with rainbow coloured squares. I could imagine a Star Trek captain sending their ship into hyperspace at a control unit like this.
Osh discards the sheet and picks up a tablet with an identical configuration on its screen to the one above the control desk. When he taps a square several sliders move by themselves on the desk and the colour in the event space morphs from turquoise blue to silver-green, a projector sending waves of pale gold light dancing across the room like sunlight viewed beneath the ocean.
A rush of emotion takes me by surprise. Osh catches sight of my reaction from the corner of his eye and smiles.
Magic.
‘Cool, huh?’
‘It’s beautiful.’
‘That feeling? The one you have right now? That’s why I do what I do. For those moments. It’s smoke and mirrors and I know how it all works. But the moment you see the effect, that’s the magic.’ He gives a self-conscious smile. ‘Sorry.’
I reach over and squeeze his hand. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘Ugh, give over. You sound like my mum. But thank you.’ A light flashes on the tablet and the large screen, drawing his attention back to the desk. ‘Hang on, I just have to sort this. Do you have your mobile on you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Would you be okay to stay here and move things if I call you? Won’t be long – I don’t want to keep you from the party.’
Right now the opportunity to be present at the party without actually being in it is very appealing. ‘No problem.’
He beams at me. ‘Great. You’re a star!’
When he dashes out I allow myself to relax. This might just be the perfect solution. All my friends think I’m at the party, so they won’t bug me. I’ve done enough adventuring this year. Tonight I’m happy to be an observer of other people’s stories.
I’ve thought a lot about what Gabe said earlier. Have I accepted the Edinburgh job because of the link with Sam? Why did I choose Edinburgh?
The job, for sure, but I saw similar roles at Cardiff, Warwick and the University of Gloucester in Cheltenham. I can’t in all honesty claim to have considered any of those.
Maybe it was because of the way Sam always talked about Scotland. Edinburgh helped make him who he is. He discovered music there and a man who looked out for him like his own father should have done. It isn’t Mull. But it might be close enough to visit if I ever decided to go. I fell in love with the Island through Sam’s eyes.
Gabe’s right, isn’t he?
I’m going to Edinburgh because the heart of the man I fell in love with beats there.
Why couldn’t I see my choice for what it was?
I look down over the fast-filling room, its beautifully dressed guests bathed in sea-coloured light. And I remember Sam’s descriptions of silver-sand beaches, of the ocean that changes every hour, of vast sweeping hills and mountains, and the shock of machair peppering the moorlands. Colour and drama and life. More than I’ve ever found in London. And suddenly, he is everywhere – in my memories, in this place, in my future that calls me into next year and beyond.
I can’t escape him, even though I wanted to.
Sam Mullins is as much a part of me now as he was last New Year’s Eve. And I have no idea how to move on.
My phone rings and as I answer I see Osh wave from the stage.
‘Hey, can you find the third set of sliders from the left? There should be a bit of blue tape on the desk beneath them.’
‘Got them.’
‘Great. Move the middle two in that set up to the next mark.’
I do as he says and a warm golden light floods the front of the stage.
‘Perfect. You’re hired. On my way back up, dude.’
I smile and stand up to look at the new wash of light.
And that’s when I see the tall figure moving across the stage, violin in hand.
And I lose my breath.