Nocturnes_ Five Stories of Music and Nightfall - Kazuo Ishiguro [55]
“You sure everything’s okay?” I asked again.
“Yeah, really, but … Look, sweetie, I have something here, something I want to give to you.”
“Oh? And what might that be?”
“I don’t want to say. I want it to be a surprise.”
“Sounds interesting. I’ll come and get it, maybe after breakfast?”
“I was kinda hoping you’d come and get it now. I mean, it’s here, and you’re awake and I’m awake. I know it’s late, but … Listen, Steve, about earlier, about what happened. I feel I owe you an explanation.”
“Forget it. I didn’t mind …”
“You were mad at me because you thought I didn’t like your music. Well, that wasn’t true. That was the reverse of the truth, the exact reverse. What you played me, that version of ‘Nearness of You’? I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. No, I don’t mean head, I mean heart. I haven’t been able to get it out of my heart.”
I didn’t know what to say, and before I could think of anything she was talking again.
“Will you come over? Right now? Then I’ll explain it all properly. And most important … No, no, I’m not saying. It’s gonna be a surprise. Come on over and you’ll see. And bring your CD again. Will you do that?”
SHE TOOK THE CD from me as soon as she opened the door, like I was the delivery boy, but then grasped me by the wrist and led me in. Lindy was in the same glamorous dressing gown as before, but she looked a little less immaculate now: one side of the gown was hanging lower than the other, and a woolly dangle of fluff was caught on the back of her bandages near the neckline.
“I take it you’ve been on one of your nocturnal walks,” I said.
“I’m so glad you’re up. I don’t know if I could have waited till morning. Now listen, like I told you, I have a surprise. I hope you’re gonna like it, I think you will. But first I want you to make yourself comfortable. We’re gonna listen to your song again. Let me see, which track was it?”
I sat down on my usual sofa and watched her fussing with the hi-fi. The lighting in the room was soft, and the air felt pleasantly cool. Then “The Nearness of You” came on at high volume.
“Don’t you think this might disturb people?” I said.
“To hell with them. We pay enough for this place, it’s not our problem. Now shhh! Listen, listen!”
She began to sway to the music like before, only this time she didn’t stop after a verse. In fact, she seemed to get more lost in the music the longer it went on, holding out her arms like she had an imaginary dance partner. When it finished, she turned it off and remained very still, standing at the end of the room with her back to me. She stayed like that for what felt like a long time, then finally came towards me.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said. “It’s sublime. You’re a wonderful, wonderful musician. You’re a genius.”
“Well, thank you.”
“I knew it the first time. That’s the truth. That’s why I reacted the way I did. Pretending not to like it, pretending to be snotty?” She sat down facing me and sighed. “Tony used to pull me up about it. I’ve always done it, it’s something I don’t ever seem to get over. I run into a person who’s, you know, who’s really talented, someone who’s just been blessed that way by God, and I can’t help it, my first instinct is to do what I did with you. It’s just, I don’t know, I guess it’s jealousy. It’s like you see these women sometimes, they’re kind of plain? A beautiful woman comes into the same room, they hate it, they want to claw her eyes out. That’s the way I am when I meet someone like you. Especially if it’s unexpected, the way it was today and I’m not ready. I mean, there you were, one minute I’m thinking you’re just one of the public, then suddenly you’re … well, something else. You know what I’m saying? Anyway, I’m trying to tell you why I behaved so badly earlier on. You had every right to be mad at me.”
The late-night silence hung between us for a while. “Well, I appreciate it,” I said eventually. “I appreciate you telling me this.”
She stood up suddenly. “Now, the surprise! Just wait there, don’t move.”
She went through into the adjoining