Read Online Nocturnes: Five Stories of Music and Nightfall by Kazuo Ishiguro - Free Book Online
Authors: Kazuo Ishiguro
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that all these men Emily dreams about, they’re not really potential lovers. They’re just figures she thinks are wonderful because she believes they’ve accomplished so much. She doesn’t see their warts. Their sheer …
brutality
. They’re all out of her league anyway. The point is, and this is what’s so pathetically sad and ironic about all this, the point is, at the bottom of it all, she loves
me
. She still loves me. I can tell, I can tell.”
“So, Charlie, you don’t have any advice.”
“No! I don’t have any fucking advice!” He was shouting full blast again. “You figure it out! You get on your plane and I’ll get on mine. And we’ll see which one crashes!”
With that, Charlie was gone. I slumped down into the sofa and took a deep breath. I told myself I had to keep things in proportion, but all the while I could feel in my stomach a vaguely nauseous sensation of panic. Various ideas ran through my mind. One solution was simply to flee the apartment, and have no contact with Charlie and Emily for several years, after which I’d send them a cautious, carefully worded letter. Even in my current state, I dismissed this plan as being a touch too desperate. A better plan was that I steadily work through the bottles in their drinks cabinet, so that when Emily arrived home, she’d find me pathetically drunk. Then I could claim to have looked through her diary and attacked the pages in an alcoholic delirium. In fact, in my drunken unreasonableness, I could even adopt the role of the injured party, shouting and pointing, telling her how bitterly hurt I’d been to read those words about me, written by someone whose love and friendship I’d always counted on, the thought of which had helped sustain me through my lousiest moments in strange and lonely countries. But while this plan had points to recommend it from a practical aspect, I could sense something there—something near the bottom of it, something I didn’t care to examine too closely—that I knew would make it an impossibility for me.
After a time, the phone began to ring and Charlie’s voice came onto the machine again. When I picked it up he sounded considerably calmer than before.
“I’m at the gate now,” he said. “I’m sorry if I was a little flustered earlier on. Airports always make me that way. Can’t ever settle until I’m sitting right by the gate. Ray, listen, there’s just one thing that occurred to me. Concerning our strategy.”
“Our strategy?”
“Yes, our overall strategy. Of course, you’ve realised, this isn’t the time for little tweakings of the truth to show yourself in a better light. Absolutely not the time for the small self-aggrandising white lie. No, no. You’re remembering, aren’t you, why you were given this job in the first place. Ray, I’m depending on you to present yourself to Emily just as you are. So long as you do that, our strategy stays on course.”
“Well, look, I’m hardly on course here to come over like Emily’s greatest hero …”
“Yes, you appreciate the situation and I’m grateful. But something’s just occurred to me. There’s just one thing, one little thing in your repertoire that won’t quite do here. You see, Ray, she’s got this idea that you have good musical taste.”
“Ah …”
“Just about the only time she ever uses
you
to belittle me is in this area of musical taste. It’s the one respect in which you aren’t absolutely perfect for your current assignment. So Ray, you’ve got to promise not to talk about this topic.”
“Oh, for God’s sake …”
“Just do it for me, Ray. It’s not much to ask. Just don’t start going on about that … that croony nostalgia music she likes. And if
she
brings it up, then you just play it dumb. That’s all I’m asking. Otherwise, you just be your natural self. Ray, I can count on you about this, can’t I?”
“Well, I suppose so. This is all pretty theoretical anyway. I don’t see us chatting about
brutality
. They’re all out of her league anyway. The point is, and this is what’s so pathetically sad and ironic about all this, the point is, at the bottom of it all, she loves
me
. She still loves me. I can tell, I can tell.”
“So, Charlie, you don’t have any advice.”
“No! I don’t have any fucking advice!” He was shouting full blast again. “You figure it out! You get on your plane and I’ll get on mine. And we’ll see which one crashes!”
With that, Charlie was gone. I slumped down into the sofa and took a deep breath. I told myself I had to keep things in proportion, but all the while I could feel in my stomach a vaguely nauseous sensation of panic. Various ideas ran through my mind. One solution was simply to flee the apartment, and have no contact with Charlie and Emily for several years, after which I’d send them a cautious, carefully worded letter. Even in my current state, I dismissed this plan as being a touch too desperate. A better plan was that I steadily work through the bottles in their drinks cabinet, so that when Emily arrived home, she’d find me pathetically drunk. Then I could claim to have looked through her diary and attacked the pages in an alcoholic delirium. In fact, in my drunken unreasonableness, I could even adopt the role of the injured party, shouting and pointing, telling her how bitterly hurt I’d been to read those words about me, written by someone whose love and friendship I’d always counted on, the thought of which had helped sustain me through my lousiest moments in strange and lonely countries. But while this plan had points to recommend it from a practical aspect, I could sense something there—something near the bottom of it, something I didn’t care to examine too closely—that I knew would make it an impossibility for me.
After a time, the phone began to ring and Charlie’s voice came onto the machine again. When I picked it up he sounded considerably calmer than before.
“I’m at the gate now,” he said. “I’m sorry if I was a little flustered earlier on. Airports always make me that way. Can’t ever settle until I’m sitting right by the gate. Ray, listen, there’s just one thing that occurred to me. Concerning our strategy.”
“Our strategy?”
“Yes, our overall strategy. Of course, you’ve realised, this isn’t the time for little tweakings of the truth to show yourself in a better light. Absolutely not the time for the small self-aggrandising white lie. No, no. You’re remembering, aren’t you, why you were given this job in the first place. Ray, I’m depending on you to present yourself to Emily just as you are. So long as you do that, our strategy stays on course.”
“Well, look, I’m hardly on course here to come over like Emily’s greatest hero …”
“Yes, you appreciate the situation and I’m grateful. But something’s just occurred to me. There’s just one thing, one little thing in your repertoire that won’t quite do here. You see, Ray, she’s got this idea that you have good musical taste.”
“Ah …”
“Just about the only time she ever uses
you
to belittle me is in this area of musical taste. It’s the one respect in which you aren’t absolutely perfect for your current assignment. So Ray, you’ve got to promise not to talk about this topic.”
“Oh, for God’s sake …”
“Just do it for me, Ray. It’s not much to ask. Just don’t start going on about that … that croony nostalgia music she likes. And if
she
brings it up, then you just play it dumb. That’s all I’m asking. Otherwise, you just be your natural self. Ray, I can count on you about this, can’t I?”
“Well, I suppose so. This is all pretty theoretical anyway. I don’t see us chatting about
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