Chapter 21
‘An international concert pianist?’ Priya says the next day once I’ve figured out the time differences and set up a video call with her and Rosie. ‘Hang on. Let me ask Martin, my classical music expert.’
She disappears and we hear a muffled conversation in the background, before the screen fills with both their faces.
‘Sorry,’ Priya says. ‘He needed to hear it for himself.’
‘Are you seriously telling me that Gabriel Campbell has been playing the piano in the bar at your hotel?’ Martin asks incredulously. ‘Priya says you’ve been on a day trip with him too. Is that true?’
‘Yes, and yes,’ I say, smiling at his awed expression.
‘Bloody hell. And you had no idea who he was?’
‘Well, I do now.’
‘You’re basically talking about classical music’s equivalent to Taylor Swift. That’s how famous he is. Next thing you’ll be telling me that she’s there too, busking in the lobby with Ed Sheeran.’
My smile widens. ‘Is that who they are?’
‘Funny. What’s he like?’
‘Gabriel? He was a bit secretive to begin with, but since he’s opened up he’s been lovely.’ I giggle. ‘Before I knew who he was, I got him to play “Disturbia” by Rihanna.’
Martin looks horrified. ‘You didn’t! That’s like using Krug champagne to make Buck’s Fizz.
I heard him play Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No.
3 at the Royal Festival Hall once. It was incredible.
The articulation, the emotion. I’m not ashamed to admit I cried.
His recording of “La campanella” by Franz Liszt is widely regarded as seminal. ’
‘OK, OK. We get it,’ Priya tells him soothingly. ‘You’re in danger of starting to dribble.’
‘Gabriel sodding Campbell, playing in a hotel bar,’ Martin breathes. ‘Talk about pearls before swine.’
‘I heard that,’ I say indignantly.
‘You were meant to. Next time he’s playing, ask him to play “La campanella” and record it on your phone.’
‘I’ll ask, but I’m not recording it.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because he’s here to relax. This is his downtime.’
‘OK, fine. But if you get him to play bloody “Disturbia” again, I’ll fly out there and stage an intervention, do you understand?’
‘Yes, Martin,’ I say meekly.
‘If it’s any consolation, I don’t have a clue who he is either,’ Priya says once Martin has disappeared, muttering darkly about musical illiteracy.
‘I could tell he was good,’ I agree. ‘I just didn’t realise quite how good until I saw his online profile.’
‘And he’s good-looking,’ Rosie observes.
‘That he is,’ I agree.
‘Oho. You fancy him,’ Priya says excitedly. ‘This is a turn up for the books. He’s certainly a better prospect than Flipper. How is Flipper, by the way?’
‘Staying broadly out of my way, which is how I like it. He’s not doing a terribly good job of keeping his side of our bargain though, so I might have to have a word if things don’t change.’
‘What bargain is this?’ Rosie asks.
‘He’s supposed to keep awful Amy out of my face in return for my silence about New Year’s Eve. You should have heard her yesterday, patronising me from here to next week.’
‘Why don’t you just tell her what happened? Flipper deserves everything he’s got coming to him, as far as I can see,’ Priya observes.
‘Because he rightly pointed out that we’re all stuck together for the duration of this holiday and, if Amy is unhappy, she’s going to make absolutely sure we’re all as miserable as her.’
‘How convenient for him,’ Priya says disdainfully. ‘Anyway, let’s get back to Gabriel. What are you going to do about him?’
‘I think he’s a bit out of my league, don’t you?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Priya’s voice is now dripping with sarcasm. ‘I’m sure that’s exactly how he feels, which is why he offered to take you out for the day. Come on, Tori, read the signals. He likes you.’
‘I think he just enjoyed spending time with me, because I treated him normally and didn’t bang on about music all the time. He hasn’t given any indication that he fancies me, although he did propose.’
‘What?’
‘We were outside his church, talking about the kind of person he could marry, and he said I was basically describing myself as his ideal partner. Then he jokingly proposed.’
‘Hmm. Sometimes people say how they really feel in a jokey way so they’ve got a way out if it doesn’t go well.’
‘I’m not marrying him, Priya. He’s a lovely guy and he’s very nice to look at, but we’re just friends. I probably won’t ever see him again after this.’
‘You definitely won’t see him if you don’t up your game. Even if it turns out to be nothing more than a sunshine fling, at least it will help to get Flipper out of your system.’
‘Flipper is not in my system, and I’m pretty certain Gabriel isn’t a sunshine fling person, even if I was.’
Rosie giggles. ‘What?’ I ask her tersely. This conversation is making me uncomfortable.
‘Flipper was very much in your system on New Year’s Eve,’ she says, grinning.
‘Yuck, Rosie.’
‘Sorry. It was too good an opportunity to resist.’
‘Anyway, back to the matter in hand,’ Priya cuts in briskly. ‘This Gabriel patently likes you and you like him. He lives in the UK and so do you. I’d say that’s a good start. Think about it, yeah?’
‘I will. I promise.’
‘Is everything all right?’ Gabriel asks. He’s finished playing the piano for the evening and we’re sitting outside Raphael’s bar. After some discussion, Robert and I agreed that he, Stuart and Dan would wander down after dinner, leaving the pre-dinner slot free for me to enjoy with Gabriel.
‘Yes, why?’
‘You seem a little distracted, like you’ve got something on your mind. Would it help to share?’
Would it help? Given that most of the things on my mind are to do with him, he’s probably not the best person to share them with. But then Priya’s words are also playing in my head. I sigh as I try to find a safe place to start the conversation.
‘I spoke to my friends earlier,’ I begin.
‘Priya and Rosie? Are they all right?’
‘They’re fine. I can’t believe you remembered their names though.’
‘Why is that so surprising?’
‘I guess I’m just not used to guys actually listening when I tell them things. I’m pretty sure Stuart wouldn’t remember their names, and he came on to at least one of them.’
‘I’d be flattered but, from what you’ve told me, doing better than Stuart is clearing a very low bar indeed. Anyway, how were they?’
‘Fine. Priya’s husband is an überfan of yours, by the way. He described you as the classical world’s equivalent of Taylor Swift.’
Gabriel laughs. ‘I’ve been called many things, but never that.’
‘He also told me your performance at the Royal Festival Hall made him cry, and that he’d hunt me with dogs if I ever asked you to play “Disturbia” again.’
‘Hmm.’
‘What?’
‘I’m sure this guy means well, but it’s a shame to write off whole genres of music just because they’re outside our particular mould. There are gems and turds in all forms. I’m sure Beethoven would have loved “Disturbia”. Right up his street.’
‘Really?’
‘Oh, yes. Listen to his fifth symphony. The Ba-ba-ba-baaa in that is just as powerful a riff as Rihanna’s.’
I smile at him. ‘You really are an enigma, Gabriel. I mean, I know you’ve told me about your family and stuff now, but there are just so many different sides to you. I think you’re possibly the most complex man I’ve ever met.’
‘Is that a good thing?’
‘I always said I wouldn’t date someone from the arts world because it’s not really my scene and I suspected I’d be bored being dragged round galleries or forced to sit through endless operas by Mr Highbrow-Arts-Geezer, but you’re not like that at all. You make me want to find out more.’
His eyes are crinkled in amusement. ‘About me, or about music?’ he asks.
‘Both.’
‘And you’re sizing me up to date me, is that right? Do I get a say in the matter?’
Shit. I’ve just realised what I’ve said and I’m mortified.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I babble. ‘I didn’t mean… I was talking metaphorically.’ I don’t need a mirror to tell me that I’m crimson with embarrassment.
‘It’s fine. Nice even. I feel very honoured, thank you.’
Oh, God. I haven’t even propositioned him – well, not properly – and he’s already letting me down gently. Where is a freak tsunami when you need one? He can obviously tell that I’m burning up with humiliation because he leans closer to me and speaks more softly.
‘I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. You’re good for me, Tori. I haven’t had this much fun in years.’
‘What, watching me open my mouth and shove my foot in it?’
‘Not at all. I’m very flattered, but that’s not what I’m talking about.
Let me give you an example using Priya’s husband.
So, a lot of the people I spend time with are just like him.
They think their musical taste puts them above other people.
’ He puts on a pompous voice. ‘“I’m clever because I like Liszt and Brahms, but people who like Rihanna or Taylor Swift are idiots and I despise them and their moronic musical tastes.” Or “I’m even cleverer than you, for you are a mere music baby for liking such obvious composers.
I, on the other hand, can fully appreciate the genius of Stravinsky.
” It’s nonsense, though. Tell me something.
What did you listen to when you were a teenager? ’
I smile, grateful to be back on safe ground. ‘It depends how pretentious I was feeling and whether I was trying to impress anyone. On my own, I’d listen to stuff that made me feel empowered to be a woman. Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, that kind of thing.’
‘Lady Gaga is a genius,’ Gabriel agrees. ‘And if you were trying to impress someone?’
‘Florence and the Machine, Royal Blood. If it was a boy I liked, I’d find out what he was into and then research the crap out of it so I could seduce him with my knowledge of his favourite bands.’
‘OK. Next question. How many times did your parents complain along the lines of “music used to have a tune in my day”?’
I laugh. ‘Lots.’
‘So what do they listen to?’
‘A mixture. My dad’s really into Gilbert and Sullivan, which doesn’t do anything for me, I’m afraid. But he also listens to Billy Joel, ELO, Genesis and David Bowie. The stuff he grew up with, I guess.’
‘And his father would doubtless have complained about that, and on and on back through the mists of time. That’s my point though.
There’s no such thing as bad music, just different tastes.
Well, I still maintain that singing along to a computer-generated backing track is lazy, but apart from that.
And that’s another reason why spending time with you is so refreshing because, as well as treating me like a normal human being, you seem to be an open book where music is concerned. ’
‘Apart from jazz.’
‘You liked the Gershwin. Tell me, what’s your favourite Lady Gaga song?’
‘I like lots of them,’ I say even as I’m frantically trying to digest what he’s just said and work out whether it means anything. ‘“Bad Romance”, “Born This Way”, “Poker Face”, but most of them really.’
‘OK. Are you up for a little musical mischief?’
I’m glad he clarified that. If he’d just have said ‘mischief’, my mind would have gone to some very dirty places. ‘What did you have in mind?’ I ask.
‘When you come to the hotel bar tomorrow, I’ll have one of those ready, or maybe all three. You’re going to record it on your phone and send it to Priya’s husband.’
‘I think he’d implode!’ I exclaim with a laugh. ‘He asked me to film you playing something else, actually. I’m trying to remember what it was. He said you’d made, like, the recording of it.’
‘Liszt. “La campanella”. I tell you what. We’ll start with that and, at some point before it ends, we’ll morph it into Lady Gaga, what do you think? Will he like that?’
‘Never mind him. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.’
‘It’s a date then.’ He raises his eyebrows briefly, indicating that he’s fully aware of the dual meaning of that phrase.
I’m surprised to find that it causes a physical reaction within me, and I find myself wondering what it would be like to kiss Gabriel.
I study his mouth, which is still curved up in a smile.
I suspect he would be very nice to kiss indeed.
I can feel heat spreading through me as I contemplate it.
Come on, Tori, I tell myself firmly. Get a grip. He’s playing with you. There’s no intention behind it. He likes you, but that’s it.
Shame though, because I’m definitely getting into him.