Chapter 5

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

("The Hollow Men", T.S. Eliot)

I

Having long given up her rug bundle but not her habit of throwing items together helter skelter, Nodame was anxious to make her getaway. Unfortunately for the flagging pianist who was eager to return to her beleaguered husband, a certain conniving British conductor was too quick for her and stopped her in her tracks, while attempting to sneak out of a side exit. Evidently he had been following her movements with a keen eye.

"Nodame…" Beresford gushed ardently. "I can't let you leave before telling you how much that performance moved me." He added with practiced earnestness. It wasn't entirely an act, however, he had been deeply affected, as much as a man of his character could be.

Nodame was caught unawares and murmured a few choice phrases under her breath before exclaiming with feigned surprise, "James… you came? How nice…"Why is he holding on to my arm?

"Of course, I came. I wouldn't have missed it in all the world." Beresford seemed determined to maintain his hold on her despite her feeble attempt to wriggle free.

She slipped into her affable public persona reluctantly. "I'm flattered that you liked it, James and I thank you for coming… but it is getting late and I need to return to the hotel."

"Why don't we return together?" Despite his amicable demeanour, there was something about the way he made that statement which suggested a certain insistence… that he would not take 'no' for an answer.

"Er… well… I…"

"It's not safe for a lovely young lady like yourself to be on your own." He persisted. "Allow me to be your escort for the evening in place of your husband… who seems to be…" He pretended to look around before saying. "Absent." with a little too much relish.

"I'm fine… I can take care of myself…" Nodame racked her brains wondering how she could be rid of this man without resorting to violence.

"I have no doubt." He was quick to reassure her. "However, it would ease my mind considerably to know that you were well taken care of. I am sure your husband would want the same."

"You're very kind, James… but really…"

"It's no trouble at all my dear… it would be my pleasure." Despite being weighed down by the day's events, Beresford was pulling all the stops. A very great pleasure…

Whatever Beresford had in mind at the moment, would remain his own private yearning. An interloper who had been watching with more than a little interest decided to make his presence felt.

"What are you up to, Beresford?"

Stresemann… is he still here? Blast… "This is getting tiresome, Stresemann. Is it really necessary for you to hover around like a watch dog. The lady and I were having a pleasant, private conversation until you decided to stick your nose into our little tête à tête."

Nodame, on the other hand, was inwardly relieved. She could feel the tension in her right hand draining away. Her right hand had been gradually clenching into a fist and she was prepared to used it on the off chance that the pertinacious Englishman refused to let go.

Stresemann deliberately chose to ignore the outburst from his British counterpart. "I've got better things to do than waste my time with you, Beresford. Nodame… I've got a car waiting. Let's go."

"Thanks Milch…" She shot him a grateful look and took a few steps forward before turning to bid Beresford farewell. "Goodbye James, thank you for coming."

The British conductor was left on his own to look on, seething over the one that got away… a second time.

"What did he want from you?" How the devil did he get his hands on a ticket at the eleventh hour?

"Nothing much… Told me how much he enjoyed the performance and then offered to take me back to the hotel."

"Did he now?" The German conductor mused. "And what did you say?"

"That I was fine and I could take care of myself. But it didn't seem he was ready to take 'no' for an answer."

"I told you to be careful…"

"I was… don't worry about me, Milch, if you hadn't come along when you did, James Beresford would have been on the floor, facedown or flat on his back."

Stresemann rewarded her with a smirk. "Really…" Damn… Maybe I should have hung back for a few minutes longer. That would have been a great story to tell the others at the triennial ball, complete with pictures.

Chiaki collapsed onto the bed, completely bone-weary. It had been a long day… rather more eventful than he had been prepared for. The worst part of the entire ordeal was not the interviews or the meetings but being alone… without her. To return to an empty room… with an empty bed was not his idea of an ideal honeymoon. But then there was nothing ideal about this entire arrangement in the first place. I was an idiot to think that we could do this… a complete ass to think that everything would go as planned.

Chiaki berated himself soundly for his own naiveté. Nothing in his life had ever gone according to plan. Why he believed that their honeymoon would be any different was a thought akin to the belief that pigs might someday sprout wings and take to the air. Perhaps he had hoped… against hope that an exception might overtake the rule.

Still, Chiaki smiled to himself, if matters had gone to plan… he might never have met her and come to partake of the mad, mad world in which she inhabited. Thehentai forest, for one, was littered with mantraps which subjected the unsuspecting traveller to beguiling surprises, befitting their sovereign. He had been one of those and several years on, he had no desire to leave.

He was missing her… much… Although their life together began years earlier, it was only in these past months that he had begun to understand the ramifications of a life without her. A recent near-death experience had been a sobering reminder to him that he could no sooner cast her aside than sever his own leg or arm without causing himself excruciating pain. No doubt, Megumi Noda was a permanent fixture in his life and no one felt more blessed than Chiaki that that was the case.

The bed seemed unnecessary large and felt bitingly cold without her. Shinichi rolled over onto his side and pulled the covers over him, wondering for the hundredth time that evening how the recital had gone. He allowed the questions to churn through his mind over and over again. It was his way of holding on to her in absentia. Nevertheless, the tiredness soon over took him and he would succumb to the comforts of his peaceful surroundings.

"Husband…" A whisper in the dark coursed through the stillness of the night. "Are you here?"

The speaker received no answer. Instead, she saw on the bed, a familiar figure stirring momentarily.

"Are you awake…" She ventured to ask. Yet again, the sleeping figure offered no reply.

The husband, it seemed, was dead to the cares of the world. As she approached his side, she could see that he was still fully dressed. He must have been completely worn out. On making that observation, she took great care not to rouse him in anyway. She tiptoed into the bathroom and dressed for bed

Nodame felt a combination of disappointment and relief. Disappointed, because she would not be able to share what little was left of the evening with him. Relief, because he was finally getting some much needed rest. He had seemed noticeably bogged down by guild business but had been tightlipped about the nature of the issues involved. Clearly it was urgent… urgent enough for him to miss her recital. Despite all appearances to the contrary, she was no fool. She understood even better than what he did, what she had married into. Nine years of being on the sidelines had taught her that much and she took it in her stride with quiet acceptance. Even in all her glorious simplicity, Nodame understood instinctively that there were some things that even marriage did not entitle her to. Things that were out of her sphere mattered little to her. What mattered most was that he had finally taken the plunge and given himself over to her completely. Both his heart and his mind, without reservations. Now that they were married… he had sealed his commitment to her which is what she always wanted from him to be begin with. It was a thought that sustained and gave her much comfort in these lean times.

She slipped under the covers and nestled up to the man that was the length and breadth of her existence. She would wait for him for as long as she needed to. In the mean time, music would be her food… the height to the length and the breadth. Fortunately for her there was still an abundance of music to be made.

II

Masayuki Chiaki was wide awake at midnight. His mind was relentless in its assault, as a myriad of questions about the past and the present pressed against him from all sides. Rather unexpectedly his brief encounter with the young pianist had left him wondering about and hankering for things that he had long given up.

Who was she really? Was she who she said she was or was it a mere slip of the tongue?

Masayuki gave in to his burning curiosity and turned his computer back on. Searching through the Classical Life website, it took no time at all before he found what he was looking for.

He leaned against the backrest of his chair and gasped. So it's true… then… she is really married to him?

"Seiko sama… a telephone call for you from Vienna. It's Chiaki san."

Seiko Miyoshi… once Seiko Chiaki was having a leisurely breakfast in Tokyo. She looked up from the magazine she was browsing, surprised that her son would bother to contact her on his honeymoon. He hasn't run out of money, has he?

Remembering, however, that her son had more or less been independent the last several years caused her mind to dwell on more alarming scenarios. I hope no mishap has befallen either of them.

"Hello, Shinichi? Is everything alright?"

"Seiko… it's me…"

"Masayuki san…" In spite of the passage of time, she had little difficulty placing the voice. Seiko Miyoshi was blown away to say the least and almost fell out of her chair in shock. Her former husband was the last person on earth she was expecting to be on the other side of the line.

An awkward silence fell over them before he ventured to break the ice.

"It's been a long time…"

"Yes, it has." She was gradually recovering her wits. "Are you well?"

"As well as can be. How about you?"

"I am, thank you."Why has he called after almost 18 years? What does he want?"I heard you got engaged last year. Congratulations." She added as a way to make conversation.

"Er… thank you."

Both were rather astonished at the mutual display of civility despite their tumultuous history.

"Masayuki san, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"Our… son…" He hesitated momentarily before coming to the subject that was foremost in his mind. "I understand that he is now married."

"Yes… he is…"

"A few hours ago, I was in audience at a recital given by a Ms Noda Megumi…"

Now aware of where this conversation was headed, she knew where she stood. "Yes, … they were married three days ago."

"Oh…" He cast about to find the words. "She's an amazing talent. I can see why he…"

"She's been good for him. He was a blithering mess nine years ago when they first met. She got him back on a plane and back to Europe." You should've been there for him. He could've done with your support. But you were no where to be seen.

"I see…"

There was much that Seiko Miyoshi had wanted to say to her ex-husband… recriminations as long as her arm. But now that the opportunity was there for the taking, she did not feel inclined to do so. The man she had married over thirty years earlier felt like a different man. She could sense a quiet sorrow and an unexpected humility that he had gained somewhere along the road without the family that he had cast aside all those years before. Against all her natural instincts, she felt enormous pity for the man she once adored.

"We should have informed you of the wedding but…" She tried to think of suitable excuses but knew that none of them would be truthful.

"It's alright, Seiko… I understand. I blame no one for how things are between our son and I."

The brokenness in his voice stunned her. "You've changed…"

"Have I?" He allowed himself a smile… a smile that she would never see. "Age must be catching up with me."

Seiko wasn't convinced. "Is it just that?"

"Perhaps not…" He offered no other explanation instead changed the subject. "Megumichan… she made me feel something tonight… she helped me remember…"

"She does that… She has that effect on people."

"Do you remember when Shinichi was about seven and we were on the coast of Marseilles? One of our rare family outings."

"Yes… I remember very well."

"Shinichi fell and hurt himself on the rocks. But he tried hard not to cry even though he wanted to. He looked at me and said, 'Dad, when I look at you, I want to be brave.' It was one of the few times I felt both proud and ashamed as a father. I wanted to hug him but I couldn't. I thought he would think me weak."

"Masa… he never told me…"

"I wasn't the father he needed… I thought it would be easier if I let you both go. I could pretend that I was better off without you… that you both would be better off…"

"He really needed his father."

"Did he? He managed to find success without his father."

"After all this time, do you still really believe that a successful career is all that matters to him?"

"No, I don't. But I can't help feeling it's too late."

"Too late for whom?"

"For me… for us…"

"For you and me perhaps… but for father and son, while there's life, there's hope."

"Ever the optimist, aren't you, Seiko?"

"I try…" She gave a smile which he felt rather than saw. "So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. To be frank, I am afraid. I feel I've been offered a second chance and yet, the fear of being rejected is quite overwhelming."

"You know, Masa… that is the most honest thing I've ever heard you say." Really… She paused before adding thoughtfully, "Why has it taken us almost thirty years to have this conversation?"

"I don't know Seiko… I had it too easy when we were together but the last few years have forced me to rethink many things."

So the rumours were true. "Whatever you decide to do, Masa… I want you to know that I'm glad that we had this conversation."

"As am I…"

After hanging up, the world famous pianist lingered a while in his study, trying to make sense of the quandary that was he was in. Masayuki Chiaki was, as he told his former wife, was alternating between feelings of nervousness and longing. He had almost convinced himself that he was reaping what he had sown with regards to the way things were between Shinichi and him. That the snub from his son was only what he deserved. He had been the architect of their estrangement years before and now he was paying the price. The walls between had appeared insurmountable, both father and son hiding underneath the façade that they could deny one another's existence. Still, there was something about Shinichi's new wife… meeting her under such remarkable circumstances… had planted a seed of hope. Hope that he dared not hold on to previously.

Clearly she knew who he was. Yet her affability had given him an opening that he never had before. A rare opportunity to redress past wrongs. A glimmer of light seeping through the cracks.

Unknown to him, Sophie had awoken and noticed his absence from her side. Unknown to him also, she had overheard much of what transpired in that telephone conversation. Her heart went out to her troubled fiancé and then quietly returned to bed wondering much through the night what her part in all of this would be.

III

Folding away his uniform, a blond haired man in his early twenties was getting ready to leave for the night. His shift was over and his job… at least for the night, was done. Standing over his locker and packing his duffel bag, he noticed a message on his phone requesting that he call. It was a call that he was expecting to make.

"Hi… it's me… Yeah, I followed your instructions to the letter."

He paused briefly and the expression on his face gradually turned somber. "Is he? No, I hadn't heard…. Are you going to visit him at the hospital?"

Again, he waited for the speaker on the other end to finish. "I don't think they know about the note he received. It is unfortunate, however, that the police have entered the picture but it was inevitable, I suppose. A bit sooner than we had planned."

The voice on the other end was getting noticeably agitated.

"What about Phase 2… should we delay it?" The young man asked, coolly. He waited patiently to receive his instructions before saying,

"You're the boss."

The conversation had come to an end and he hung up.

He picked up his bag and strolled calmly out of the staff entrance, anxious to get home. It had been that sort of day.

Sorry, Chiaki… it's nothing personal but I have a job to do.

Author's Comments:

As you would've noticed, this chapter is a little shorter than the others. I wanted something that would act as a transition between Day One and Day Two, without having to cram in a whole heap of information in one chapter. Also I felt that it was important to have these stepping stones for later.

I was utterly thrilled to receive so many lovely comments from the last chapter. I am pleased that this story has captured people's imagination. I've thanked a number of you privately for your comments… and please keep them coming! ;)

Mmestrange: Darn it, I can't comment on your comment without giving anything away but I'm really glad that the story's keeping the "little grey cells" active. I must confess, however, I am not a big fan of Wagner.

Gwen: I loved Ten Little Indian Boys… although when I first read it, it was under a much less politically correct title. (Yeah… I am that old… LOL) Again, I really shouldn't make any comments relating to the plot. I could inadvertently give something away.