Chapter Four

Thursday 18th April

Don't be Cruel

'You know I can be found,

Sitting home all alone,

If you can't come around,

At least please telephone.

Don't be cruel to a heart that's true'.

"Do we have to keep doing this one? I think it's sounding fine," Harry asked in a voice with an undertone of whine.

"I need to make sure it's perfect. This new gig is big deal. The move to just off Broadway is enormous Harry, this is really big." Jorge gesticulated to emphasise how big the gig was.

"It just seems that there are more important things in the world at the moment."

"Look Harry if you don't want to be here, just go." Jorge said curtly.

"No, I'm sorry; I guess the bombings in Boston have been on my mind that's all." Harry admitted.

Jorge looked at him quizzically.

"Back in my old job, it's the sort of thing I'd end up investigating. I suppose I'm feeling a bit useless," Harry admitted.

"It's tragic Harry, but you can't fix anything, you're just a teacher now." Beto insisted.

"Shall we go back to singing?" asked Jorge.

"OK, you're the boss," Harry agreed and they started the second verse.

Baby, if I made you mad

For something I might have said,

Jorge stopped singing and paused his ipod at the sight of Harry's sour face. "Are you sure there's not another reason why this song is bothering you tonight?" he asked.

"No!" Harry shot back, but far too quickly to be believed.

"So tell us about her," Jorge insisted. "We'll never get anything done otherwise."

"What's to tell?" Harry asked. But as he looked up at the two men who had become his friends he realised they were concerned, that they did care. They were his friends. Friends told each when things were worrying them. And Jorge knew exactly who it was that was causing his problem. Harry hadn't ever told him, he'd just figured it out because he knew Harry and he cared. It had been a while since that had happened. It was a slightly unnerving feeling even more so when Harry realised that he did want to talk to them about Nikki.

It was true the Brits and British men in particular weren't great at 'feelings,' but Jorge and Beto weren't British, they weren't even fully American; they were Colombian and things were obviously done differently there. He'd come to America to make a change, get out of his old self destructive life patterns. This was his chance.

"We worked together, we were friends. She wasn't interested in me and I left." It wasn't a great start to bearing his soul he thought.

"But she came out to see you for the weekend!" Jorge added.

"Is she the one who always sends you teabags?" Beto asked.

Harry looked miserable but nodded.

"And she sorted out all the details, so we could enter the competition," Beto added.

"She is gorgeous!" Jorge said.

"And she certainly looked interested to me!" Beto put in over the top of Jorge. "Not that I'm an expert you understand."

"Look are we here to sing or what?" Harry asked.

"I think we are doing as you say 'or what.'" Jorge claimed, pulled out a chair and lent towards Harry.

Harry stood up and tugged at his hair. "What do you need to know? We worked together, I adored her. I do adore her." He paused. "I think I've made the most monumental cock up of my life."

"Why did you leave?"

"I got offered a great job here." Harry insisted.

"But if you're old job was so great and she was so great, why were you even looking for new job?" Jorge asked.

"Because I'd hit the end of the road where I was, I had no chance of promotion."

Beto raised an eyebrow at Harry and pulled his chair next to Jorge's so the two were both sitting across from him. It was clear they were not interested in the job.

"I thought she wasn't interested," Harry explained. "I thought she pushed me away, she always seemed happy being friends and my track record of good relationships with women was never great… We were great friends..."

Both of his friends lent further forward.

"You never made move on her?" Jorge inquired.

Harry shook his head, "Not properly."

"I don't want to hear the details do I?" Beto said ruefully.

"But what's different now?" Jorge asked more gently.

Harry gave his chair a kick.

"When she was here, there were no cases to get in the way, no distractions, it was fun we had a great time and for once I thought there were no disasters waiting just around the bend to throw the world upside down."

"BUT?" his friends asked in unison.

"She said goodbye." Harry said morosely.

Jorge and Beto traded a look.

"Pensé que habías dicho que era inteligente." Beto said.*

"No, él es sólo un idiota." Jorge replied.

"¡Qué burro."

"Inglés" demanded Harry.

"Donkey!" chuckled Beto.

"What?" Harry asked crossly. "She said goodbye; she insisted before I left England that we would never say goodbye. We spent six months Skyping every weekend. Six months without a goodbye and after one long weekend when I finally thought we could possibly have a future together, she walks out without a backward glance, and apart from one phonecall to know she'd got home safely, I haven't heard from her since!"

Jorge and Beto rolled their eyes and looked at each other again, "Todas las semanas!"

"But you walked out on her six months ago!" Beto summarised.

"That's it! Take her side! You're supposed to be my friends!" Harry spat out, regretting telling them at all.

"Él es realmente un burro."

"Enough with the donkey jokes!" Harry pleaded. "What am I going to do?" He might regret being open with them but there was no one else who could help him. They'd have to do.

"You have to decide." Beto said seriously.

"Decide what?"

" You have to decide if you want her." Jorge continued where his lover had left off.

Harry looked from one to the other.

"You mean it's up to me!" he shook his head again remembering the words Nikki had written to him six months before.

"You've known each other a long time; right?" Beto asked.

Harry nodded.

"So why this time so different?" Jorge continued.

"Because in the one conversation we have had since she left, she told me that all the times I thought she'd pushed me away it wasn't because she wasn't interested in a relationship with me. I'd misunderstood her. She pushed me away because she didn't love herself enough to let me or anyone else love her." He looked up at his friends and back down to his hands twisting in his lap. "I know… I'm a donkey!"

"Yes, but you're my donkey," Jorge insisted slapping him on the back as Beto ruffled his hair. "And now it's time to sing. You decide later what to do. You can go forward or you can go back. It's up to you. Now let's try the chorus one more time and then we sing something else. The new venue has heard of me, it has heard really good reviews. They are expecting a big crowd the night we sing at BB King's Blues Club."

"BB King's Blues Club?" Harry asked. "The one on 42nd Street? We're singing there?"

"Yes we are!" Jorge said proudly.

"But what if someone sees us?" Harry asked again.

"That is the whole point!" laughed Jorge. "You English, you are so funny. Now; chorus!"

Don't be cruel to a heart that's true.

Don't be cruel to a heart that's true.

I don't want no other love,

Baby it's just you I'm thinking of.


BB King's Blues Club Times Square W 42nd Street, between 7th and 8th.

*First of all I'm always amazed that there are people out there reading this stuff, and I know you are all clever types but I'm also even more amazed that there are people out there reading this that don't have English as a primary language so to disappear into Spanish seems particularly cruel. I don't speak Spanish either and am trusting my life to Google translate so apologies if it is wrong, but I love the way it looks and here is what I hope they say:

Beto: I thought you said he was really intelligent.

Jorge: No, he's a complete idiot.

Beto: What a donkey.

Harry: English!

And later they say "Every week?!" and "He really is a donkey,"

Don't Be Cruel: Otis Blackwell (Elvis)