Page 34 of The Typo

‘That’s very kind of you. Sure, I’d be happy to help.’ I kept my voice steady, not wishing to overwhelm him with my enthusiasm for his kind invitation, even though I was delighted to be on the receiving end of it.

‘Please do come over when you are ready, of course, but if you could make it in the next few moments, that would be even better. I wouldn’t like the curry to get cold. It’s vegetarian, I hope that’s acceptable.’

‘Delicious, that’s more than acceptable. Let me tidy up my music stuff and I’ll be with you straightaway.’

He nodded and headed back across the landing, leaving his front door propped open ready for me. I quickly cleared up, grabbed an unopened bottle of wine and then presented myself at Mr McTavish’s home.

It was a mirror image of my flat, different yet the same, just like playing the violin had been. The cats welcomed me by winding their way around my legs. If I wasn’t mistaken, they were actually purring, although I’m sure they’d have denied it if asked. I stroked their soft backs, and whispered a quiet greeting. They followed me to the kitchen area where my neighbour was spooning steaming portions of deliciously scented curry into a pair of brightly coloured bowls. There was no sign of takeaway bags. Either he’d cleared up very efficiently, or he’d prepared this meal from scratch himself.

‘My late wife chose them on one of our trips to Turkey, back in the day,’ he said, catching my admiration of the tableware with its beautifully intricate floral relief decoration.

‘She had excellent taste,’ I said, feeling ashamed that I’d had no idea that he’d been married, let alone lost his wife.

‘Absolutely, although her father always used to say that the only time her taste failed her was when she chose me as her husband.’ He let out a quiet chuckle. ‘He was a very overbearing man, my father-in-law. Please do help yourself to some naan, if you’d like.’

‘Thank you.’

I tore a chunk of the warm bread and dipped it into my bowl before tucking in, relishing the delicate glow of the spices.

‘This is delicious, Mr McTavish,’ I said.

He smiled. ‘I appreciate you’re a very polite young woman, but I really wouldn’t mind if you called me by my first name, especially as we are sharing a meal together. In fact, my friends used to call me Harry rather than Harold. Harold always makes me feel ancient, or like I’m about to get an arrow in the eye.’

I laughed. ‘Hopefully not. And I should be honoured to call you Harry. Although Harold is a very distinguished name. Much more interesting than Amy, which is plain and boring like me.’ I shook my head. ‘Actually no. I don’t know why I said that. I’m definitely complicated and hopefully far from dull.’

He nodded approvingly. ‘As it should be. In my experience—gained over many decades I hasten to add—everyone is complicated, and that is what makes the human race endlessly interesting. And if some people appear otherwise, it’s because they are putting on a different kind of front.’

‘I’d never thought of it like that, but you’re definitely right. It’s easy to look from the outside and assume that everyone else has got life sorted, but we’ve all got our own stuff going on.’

We carried on eating in companionable silence. It was good to be enjoying a meal with my neighbour. I didn’t want to get carried away after one invitation, but it felt like we’d both made an important step towards what could be the start of a new friendship. At any rate, I didn’t think either of us occupants of the top floor would feel quite so alone in the future knowing there was someone of fellow feeling just across the corridor.

‘What inspired your return to the violin?’ asked Mr McTavish—Harry—suddenly. ‘You work in the theatre, am I right? I’ve seen you occasionally carrying an Edinburgh Variety tote bag around. I hope I’ve not jumped to the wrong conclusion.’

‘You haven’t. Your powers of observation are spot on. I’m their marketing and communications manager. Well, I am at the moment.’ My voice trailed off.

‘So, the rumours I’ve heard are correct? The theatre is under threat? Is that why you’re playing again? Forgive me, I’m not trying to pry. I assure you that they are not widespread rumours. I like to treat myself to the occasional solo dinner out in the city centre, and the fact that I am sitting alone seems to provide me with a degree of invisibility. One overhears all kinds of chatter which one should perhaps not be privy to.’

‘It doesn’t surprise me that people are talking. My boss, Ian, has sworn me to secrecy about the details, but let’s just say that the theatre is in a period of potential flux. Although I’m trying my best to change that.’

I found myself confiding in Harry about my concern for my colleagues, Malcolm in particular, and the lengths I’d gone to attempting to breathe new life into the venue. There was something about his quiet attention to what I had to say that encouraged me to unburden myself. It felt good to speak freely with someone who wasn’t caught up in the situation, although I didn’t quite get to the point of correcting his assumption that that was the reason I had picked up the violin again.

‘I don’t know whether I’m doing the right thing, or making things worse,’ I concluded.

Harry pursed his lips. ‘It sounds like you are doing what needs to be done. I wish you every success with it. Sometimes we all need to step out of our comfort zone to make a positive change.’ He hesitated, then carried on. ‘Speaking of which, I am grateful you accepted my invitation for dinner. My wife was always the sociable one. I’m afraid in the decade since she died, I’ve fallen into the habit of playing things safe and keeping to my own company. I shall allow Eliza and Fraser the credit for encouraging us to talk to each other properly at last. I shouldn’t have left it so long to make your acquaintance. It’s too easy in a big city to end up walking around in your own protective bubble, ignoring those around you. And that is how they can end up being lonely places, despite all the people living in them.’

I reached out and squeezed his hand. ‘I’ve often thought that too. And I’ve been equally bad at keeping myself in a bubble. But I’m glad you’re just across the hallway.’

‘As am I. Now, curry always puts me in the mind for something sweet. Shall I check to see if the freezer has any ice cream in it? I have a feeling I have some honeycomb toffee tucked away among the ready meals.’

‘That sounds perfect,’ I responded. ‘And Harry, in the spirit of getting out of comfort zones, can I ask you a favour?’

‘Of course.’

‘You asked about my reason for playing the violin again. I guess it’s because I’m trying to be more honest with myself.’ And others, I silently added. ‘It’s been a couple of years, and the last time I played to an audience, it didn’t go well. Actually, I kind of fell to pieces. But now I’ve promised myself I’m going to go busking.’

‘A brave step,’ he said.

‘Thanks. A terrifying one really.’ I decided if I didn’t take the plunge now, I never would. ‘Anyway, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind me playing something for you now? Just one little tune so I know I can still do it. My way of singing for my supper. And I apologise in advance if it all goes horribly wrong.’

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