Page 21 of Musical Games
Sam snorted. ‘Liam, as inbabyLiam?’
He nodded. ‘When he was about three months old, Duncan was away on the rigs and Fi and Liam were staying here. It was late at night and he was going mental. There was nothing they could do to soothe the wee man. Mum was about to bring out the whisky, so I played my music as a last resort, and it did the trick. Fi now calls me the baby whisperer. If they can’t get him to sleep, they call me in. But if he doesn’t like what I’m playing he kicks off.’ He smiled at her. ‘There’s no politeness filter on a baby.’
She grinned. ‘A lot of shit, but no bullshit?’
‘Exactly.’
The smile hung in the air between them and his heart filled. He could never have her, but he could have this. Making music was something he had over all the Ian Berresfords and Brad Bauers of the world. They may have been rich, good-looking and charismatic, but they weren’t sitting here with her now, about to create something unique that might outlast them all. Despite the gnawing anxiety inside, he was determined to try and make this work.
‘Okay, why don’t we start with “The Heart of Scotland”?’ he asked, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. ‘I thought we could record bits as we go along and see how we get on. Sound okay to you?’
At nine o’clock,after an hour of assuring Morag they were about to come down to dinner, his mother entered the room, took Jamie’s guitar off him and ordered them downstairs to eat. Jamie was relieved for the break. Being with Sam was like being perpetually tasered by Eros and Aphrodite. It was the first time he’d ever fallen truly in love and he was exhausted by the experience. Everything about her was more than he could handle. Her energy and creativity were explosive. While he was cautious, she threw ideas around like rice at a wedding, happy to immediately discard them if they didn’t seem to work. She was encouraging, listening with rapt attention to every chord progression he played, then asking what he thought of it before she gave her opinion. It was like he’d just learned to walk and now she was expecting them to enter a ballroom dancing competition and win first place.
‘So, how’s it going up there?’ his mother asked.
Jamie shrugged and Sam rolled her eyes. ‘Grumpy guts here doesn’t realise how good it’s sounding. I think we’ve already nailed the chorus for “The Heart of Scotland”.’
Jamie took a swig of beer. ‘I think it’s more stuck to the wall like a Post-it note at the moment.’
Sam inhaled the last bits of food on her plate and sat back with a sigh. ‘Thank you, Morag, that’ll give us our second wind. Can I wash up?’
Morag took the plate from her. ‘Don’t be daft.’ She turned to Jamie. ‘Come on, son. Don’t keep the lady waiting.’
They were staring at him like he was an exhibit at the zoo. He pushed his plate away, his appetite gone. ‘I’m done.’
Sam clapped her hands and bounced on the balls of her feet, then skipped out of the room.
Jamie looked at his mum. ‘Did she justskip?’
Morag grinned and winked at him. ‘Aye, son, yes she did.’
Back upstairs,Sam was sitting on the chair at the desk, far enough from the bed that accidental contact was impossible. She was singing quietly to herself, the pages of notes in her hand. The pen was twisted in her hair to form a bun, revealing the line of her neck. He wanted to kiss it, feel her soft skin against his lips, then pull the pen out to have her hair fall over his cheek. She smiled at him.
‘There you are. I thought we could go through the chorus again and try and nail the verse. Or Post-it, if you’d prefer?’
He nodded and turned away, picking up the guitar as if it were a shield.
They worked into the night and Jamie didn’t think to look at the clock until there was a lull in their talking and the unmistakable sounds of his mother’s snores filtered through the wall.
Sam giggled. ‘Oh my god, last night I heard that and thought it was you.’
His neck prickled. ‘I don’t snore.’
‘Are you sure now, Jamie McDougall? How many women have confirmed that fact?’
He looked away, his face on fire.
‘Oh, I’m only teasing. Your sex life is your own business.’ She yawned. ‘Well, I’m going to bed before I turn into a pumpkin. Do you want to use the bathroom first?’
He shook his head.
‘Okay, I won’t be long. Thank you, Jamie.’
He shrugged.
‘Sleep well,’ she continued.
He nodded.
