Twelve Herculean Concerts of Rodney McKay - Part Two
Twelve Herculean Concerts of Rodney McKay - Part Two
This is the second part, written for undermistletoe
“Rodney…” Zelenka made his pupil sit down and tried to find the words to explain this situation to him.
“What? Have they cancelled the concert? They can’t do that! This is the ninth concert! There are only three left and then Dr Weir will announce her choice! Radek, you’ve got to…!”
“Rodney!” Zelenka interrupted more forcefully, moving the messy bedclothes off the sofa so he could sit next to Rodney. It was the only place in the house where Rodney could sleep and since Rodney had pretty much moved in…
“What is it?” Rodney asked, panic still evident in his voice.
“It is John,” Zelenka told him flatly.
“What… what’s happened?” Rodney asked tremulously. Not John… nothing could happen to John…
“He is fine… he is not harmed… he… Rodney, he is not your friend.”
“What?”
“He is… Listen to me, ok? There is this man, he is creepy man with white hair and scars on his cheeks.” Zelenka shuddered.
“You mean Malcolm’s mentor? Mr Kenmore? He hates me for some reason and thinks that he can get back at my Dad for something through me,” Rodney admitted. “Of course he doesn’t realise that my Dad hates me, so he can’t get at him through me.”
“Rodney, pay attention! John is in league with Kenmore!”
“How can John know Mr Kenmore? He’s not into music or Physics!” Rodney protested.
“You are not listening! John has been ordered to… to make love to you! He wants to break your heart!” Zelenka explained.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Rodney retorted.
“I am not! I saw John and Kenmore speaking. Kenmore was telling John what to do and he seemed pleased. John is working for Michael Kenmore!”
For a moment Rodney sat there, stunned, waiting for more information, but then he shook his head. “No, John is… is lovely and he likes me! He comes to my concerts and he laughs with me, not at me! No… No Radek, you are wrong!”
“He wants you to lose! If he can make you break your heart then you will not play so well and Malcolm will win!” Zelenka tried.
“No! Stop it! I know you don’t like John, but… no, you’re making this up! John wouldn’t betray me!” Rodney argued.
“What do you really know about him? Where does he come from?” Zelenka asked.
“America!” Rodney answered promptly.
“Where in America? Is big place!”
“I… I don’t know,” Rodney admitted. “It never came up!”
“What does he do? Where does he live? Why is he not in school if he is so smart?” Zelenka pressed.
“He… he loves flying and Ferris Wheels, and college football and anything that goes 200 miles an hour!” Rodney told his mentor.
“In other words, you know nothing!” Zelenka closed his argument. “Rodney, he’s not…”
“Shut up! Shut up!” Rodney stood up. “I don’t know…” he did a quick clicking sequence with his fingers that accompanied his brain cells bouncing around. “You don’t like him and you don’t want me to see him! You’re a bigot who doesn’t approve of gays! That’s it! You want me to fail! Well, I can do without you! I don’t need you! I can play without your guidance!” Rodney picked up his things and started throwing them in the school bag he had arrived with.
“Rodney, no! This is not true!” Zelenka countered, trying to work out where this had all gone wrong. “I am not bigot! I…”
“I’m not listening to you anymore! John loves me! No one else loves me!” Rodney carried on.
“You can’t leave!” Zelenka put a hand on Rodney’s arm, but Rodney shook it off violently.
“I can do as I please! I’m going to find a room in the village, even if I have to walk all the way!” he announced.
“Don’t be a fool, Rodney!” Zelenka tried, but Rodney had flounced out of the door and was already half way down the mountain.
***
“Hey!” A horn beeped and Rodney found himself staring at John in a car that he couldn’t possibly own himself.
“What is this?” Rodney asked in awe.
“Aston Martin. Belongs to my boss, but I get to take it for a spin every now and again. What are you doing walking down the mountain?” John asked concerned.
“I… “ Rodney couldn’t voice the accusations that Radek had flung at his… his boyfriend. “Take me out, John. I need a day off.”
John grinned. “Sure!” he said, but Rodney didn’t see that John’s grin was slightly strained. He was too busy scrambling around to the other side of the car and placing his school bag in the back.
“So, where do you want to go?” John asked as Rodney settled and he set off down the mountain.
“Somewhere… anywhere! Just not here!” Rodney pouted. “John… you do really like me, don’t you?”
“Hey! I’m here! And you sound like a girl!” John laughed.
“I’m soooo not a girl!” Rodney grinned, feeling much more cheerful already.
“I’d be damned disappointed if you were!” John leered.
To Rodney’s astonishment, they pulled up at a small airport about half an hour later. John got out and opened Rodney’s door for him with exaggerated chivalry.
“John?”
“I told you I’m a pilot, didn’t I?” John grinned.
“Yeah, but…”
“Got your passport?”
“I have everything I own with me… except my toothbrush. I left that in Radek’s bathroom and I may…” Rodney babbled.
“So yes, you have your passport?” John interrupted drily. “I thought, Paris.”
“Paris?” Rodney squealed. “I can’t go to Paris! I have a concert tomorrow night!”
“Paris, Texas, Rodney. I don’t have a big enough plane for trans-Atlantic flights!” John grinned and Rodney slapped his boyfriend’s arm with pursed, but amused lips.
***
Rodney didn’t think he had ever had such a wonderful time. Alright, the flight had been a bit hairy in such a small puddlejumper (as John called it), and they hadn’t got anywhere near Paris… or Texas. In fact they got as far as Chicago where John took Rodney to a restaurant and Rodney took John to a show.
The next day, after a stay in the poshest hotel Rodney had ever been in and the best breakfast he had ever eaten, they went to the Navy Pier. They played miniature golf (and debated hotly who had actually won), they went on the Ferris Wheel, they went through the Funhouse Maze and then went on the Ferris Wheel again (Rodney protesting loudly all the way).
All the way through Rodney checked his watch to make sure that they were going to make it back to Toronto in time for the concert. It was amazing how much they could pack into one day.
“Isn’t it amazing how much we’ve been able to pack into one day?” Rodney exclaimed to John, checking his watch again. It felt much later than one o’clock… more like…. “John?”
John’s face had lost its joy and life. He suddenly looked guilty.
“John?”
“Rodney… there’s… there’s something I have to tell you. I…”
Rodney looked up at the digital clock on a shop front of a bank and it said five past three.
“John!” he looked at his betrayer’s face.
“Rodney… if we go now we can make it. You can change in the plane. I’ll… I promise I’ll get you there on time. I’ve phoned them to ask them to refuel now.”
“What have you done?” Rodney asked in a small voice.
“There’s no time now, Rodney. In the plane. Come on!”
With some fast negotiating with a cab driver and extra cash changing hands, they made it back to the private airfield in less than twenty minutes. It took too long to do the safety checks and then there was the waiting while other planes got in the way of their take-off, then finally FINALLY they were up in the air.
“Talk!” Rodney ordered tersely when they were safely on their way.
“I… I didn’t mean… I… I’m sorry. I put your watch forward two hours last night. I work for Michael Kenmore.” John spoke as quietly as he could over the roar of the airplane engine.
“You work for him?” Rodney asked, not really needing the confirmation. He could feel his heart shattering. “So all this… you just wanted to… what? Break my heart?”
“No! I…”
“Well, you can tell your boss that it worked. Consider my heart broken and John, when we land you will take me to the Roy Thomson Hall and then I never want to see you ever again.”
“Rodney…” John protested.
“No John,” Rodney said flatly and stared out of the window, steadfastly not listening to John as he tried to explain that he owed his plane to Kenmore, that he had no job without the man, that he had been thrown out of his own home for being gay and that he really loved Rodney. Rodney just listened to the sound of his heart beating and tried to stop stupid tears from falling down onto his crumpled tux.
Of course they were late and Rodney played badly, on automatic pilot. There were no wrong notes, but he knew that there was no passion or soul, and Chopin was dead without feeling. The applause was empty at the end and he barely bowed before leaving the stage, feeling that he had cheated the people who had paid money to hear his perform.
When they came to pay him, he refused it, even though he needed the money. He couldn’t take it after such a poor performance. In fact, he didn’t think he could ever play again. He didn’t even want to play again.
“Mer?”
“Jeannie,” Rodney gathered his sister up in his arms and burst into heartfelt tears.
It took a while for him to tell her what had happened, how John had been sent to seduce him and how he had taken him away from playing, how he had flown him to Chicago and given him the most wonderful day, but had betrayed him with the watch trick.
“Why Mer?”
“What?” Rodney threw himself down on the bed in their hotel and wished his life were over.
“Why does Mr Kenmore want you to fail?” Jeannie asked curiously.
“Because he wants his pupil, Tunney to win.”
“Really? Mr Kenmore? What does he know about music? Why does he want you to fail?” Jeannie demanded.
“I don’t know and I don’t care!” Rodney cried and threw his sister out of his room.
But it bothered him all night and in the morning he was almost ready to phone John to pose questions… almost, but not that desperate.
***
John went back to the mansion in Vancouver with a heavy heart. It really wasn’t fair that he had to work for a crook like Kenmore, just because of his plane. Kenmore had made it so that the only way he could fly was through one of his airfields and he was holding John’s plane hostage. It was the only asset that John had and it hurt that he was being forced to choose between flying and Rodney.
The only thing that was totally clear to him now though, was that he had chosen Rodney over flying. Now all he had to do was convince Rodney - and that really wouldn’t be easy, not after what he had done.
John watched Rodney’s tenth concert on the tv. Rodney appeared gaunt and haggard on the stage and the commentator even mentioned that he looked ill. John wanted to reach out and hug him, but Rodney was in Quebec on the other side of the country.
Rodney sat at the piano and posed his hands over the keyboard, but then seemed to freeze. There was a long pause and John could almost hear the people shifting in their seats as they waited for him to start, but suddenly Rodney crashed his hands on the keyboard and stood up.
“Ladies and Gentlemen… I… I was intending to play the new concerto by Valerie Michelet and… and I will play it next time, but… my heart is too heavy and I can only play this. I hope that you will forgive me. Excusez-moi, messieurs et dames, mais j’ai le cœur brisé et je ne peux pas vous donner le concerto par Valérie Michelet.”
Rodney sat down and started playing the Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven, only it wasn’t anything like the hackneyed piece that John knew. Rodney was playing with all his soul and heart and to John’s horror, he realised that there were tears pouring down his face. By the time Rodney got to the Appassionata John could hardly bear it anymore and he had to move away. He had done this to Rodney. He had broken that spirit with his awful trick and John saw himself as a shallow and selfish. What kind of person could do this to a boy just so that he could fly a plane?
John headed towards the kitchen to make himself a drink, but as he passed by the study he heard Rodney’s name mentioned, so he stopped by the door and listened.
“…leaving Malcolm to play in the play-off. He will see off any other competition and then be presented to the Prime Minister and the Royal couple.” Michael sounded gleeful.
“Then what Boss?” John recognised the voice of Kanaan, one of Michael’s hired thugs.
“You will need to get the gun to the piano stool. Tape it underneath so that it can be pulled up easily. Malcolm will retrieve it just before he is presented to the Royals. He will hand it to me. You and Todd will get the van to the stage door and be ready to receive Miss Middleton or the Prime Minister, which ever is easiest to get. Steve, you make sure the live feed is up and running, if you don’t then it will all take too long. Speed is of the essence and the Middleton woman will die if the demands aren’t met.”
“When do we get our money?” John thought it was Todd asking.
“When I am in charge of Canada. When the missiles are on route to Washington. We will be in charge and you can have anything you want,” Michael told his minion triumphantly.
“What about McKay?” Kanaan asked.
“McKay is irrelevant. He can die for all I care. I tell you what, you can take him to his father and kill him in front of the old bastard’s eyes. That will be revenge enough for him firing me!”
John had heard enough. He had suspected for a while that there was more going on in the mansion than he had been allowed to see. The airfields had all be housing military-style aircraft for months and there were other training grounds and houses dotted around the country. Michael was clearly going to use Canada as a base to attack America. It made sense. You wouldn’t need long-range missiles or huge aircraft to reach the US from its neighbouring country and the Americans never suspected plots from their friends in the North, always from the drug countries in the South. The attack would be a surprise and more likely to succeed.
John had to decide what to do, and that would start with Rodney winning the competition and being at the play-off. If he could stop Malcolm from winning and being presented to the dignitaries, then at least it would delay Michael’s plans.
***
“Radek? Dr Zelenka? Please, open up!” John banged on the door again and again. He knew that the teacher was in there as he had watched him opening curtains earlier, but the man was ignoring him. “Please? I need to help Rodney!”
“Haven’t you done enough?” Zelenka demanded furiously, flinging the door open with a crash.
“Please, give me a chance to explain? I need to help Rodney to win! I need… I love him!” John confessed desperately.
“You have ten minutes!” Zelenka told him coldly, “then I call police.”
Zelenka didn’t invite John to sit, so he stood awkwardly and began his tale.
“Look, Kenmore, he blackmails people and owns them. He owns me. He owns my plane and I can’t earn a living without it. Before I met Rodney I thought that I couldn’t live if I didn’t fly, but… Rodney is better than flying!”
Zelenka’s hard face softened a little, but John didn’t see this as he was mainly addressing the Czech’s shoes.
“Michael has this scheme to take over Canada. He wants to kidnap either Kate Middleton or the Canadian Prime Minister and take over the government. He’s been planning and trying for years, but I don’t think he’s been able to get past the defences yet. He’s mad, Dr Zelenka!”
“You are crazy to believe this,” Radek opined, but he let John continue. Having been threatened himself, he knew that Kenmore would go to extremes to get his own way.
“Malcolm is supposed to win the competition and will retrieve a gun for Michael to use. They can get a gun onto a stage more easily than by any other means. Please, Dr Zelenka, we have to get Rodney to play again, if only so we can be there to protect him. Michael wants Rodney killed in front of his father.”
Zelenka was quiet for a moment. Then he said calmly.
“You are quite mad for believing this, but you are only young - eighteen? I want Rodney to play and I want him to be happy. I think that if you can escape from Mr Kenmore’s influence you could be good for him. If you betray him again, I shall kill you myself.”
John was under no illusion. The threat was completely real. “Yes sir,” he agreed.
“Rodney is in Toronto. He does not want to play and he is in hotel with Jeannie. You must go there and persuade him.”
“Yes sir,” John said again. “Will you come too?”
“He has fired me, but yes. We will go together. You must make him love you again.” Zelenka told him angrily. “Now, I must pack. Go and wait in car.”
***
John hated being flown by someone else, but at least it gave him time to talk to Zelenka. He found himself telling the teacher all about his father throwing him out of the family home, his mother’s death, his brother’s rejection and his only asset being his beloved plane, bought for him before his father found out about his boyfriend.
He told Zelenka about mortgaging his plane and his life to help Nancy, who then betrayed him when she found out that he wasn’t rich anymore and was unlikely to inherit a large fortune after all.
He told Zelenka about the magic and freedom of flying and how he had learned that Rodney was even more important than that.
Zelenka told John about Rodney’s father and his dislike of his own son. He told John that Rodney was probably as good at science as he was at playing the piano and that he hoped that Rodney would consider a degree or two before becoming a full-time concert pianist.
Zelenka even told John why he left Czechoslovakia.
They made it in time for the concert to begin and Malcolm was already on the stage. Rodney was in the green room with Jeannie, dressed, but refusing to talk. He looked ill, gaunt, bedraggled and so miserable it hurt.
John fell in love all over again.
“Rodney?”
“What the hell are you doing here? You betrayed me!” Rodney suddenly roared and flung himself at John.
John caught him and held his wrists. “Rodney, I am so sorry. I am here to make it up to you and… I hope to save your life. Rodney, please, I love you!”
“What? How can you say that? You betrayed me!” Rodney spat, still struggling.
“I do. I didn’t realise until… you’re better than flying. I have given up my plane and my life… please Rodney?”
“You… you love me?” Rodney asked in a small voice.
John pulled Rodney into his arms. “More than flying.”
Rodney hugged John like he was a lifeline - which in a way he was. Life had been horrible without John in it and he clung to John.
“Now, will you play?”
Quickly John and Radek filled Jeannie and Rodney in. Both thought it was ludicrous, but Rodney agreed to play.
***
“Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Dr Elizabeth Weir and I am in charge of the programme for the Canadian prom. I can’t tell you how excited I am at this unique chance to showcase some of our greatest talents. Some of the evening will be taken up by our greatest stars in the classical world, but our final player will be an up and coming pianist who will play music by our youngest Canadian composers. I can say that it will certainly be a pianist. I have heard many exciting young talented performers, but I can now announce the two finalists who will play off in the Concert for Canada in the Air Canada Centre in Toronto in the presence of the Prime Minister and his guests, Prince William of Wales and his fiancée Miss Kate Middleton.
Malcolm Tunney has a sure touch and lyrical edge to his playing. He is a born performer who seems to speak to the audience through his music. He started playing at the age of six and learned with various teachers, many of whom are very well known to all of us. You can clearly hear their influences in his playing, but he will give us a fine concert in Toronto.”
There was applause for the first finalist, and then Dr Weir spoke again.
“Our second finalist is Rodney McKay. Rodney has had a fairly hard life compared to many musicians. He has never had support from his parents, unlike most performers, but he has singular ambition and drive. He works hard and has mostly taught himself, although he was also taught by the late, great Madame Ivanova. More recently he has been taken on by my dear friend, Dr Radek Zelenka who came out of retirement to train and teach the young musician. Over the course of this year I have seen this teenager grow from an arrogant, clinical player with phenomenal technical brilliance into a passionate and exciting performer who will give us a superb concert in Toronto next week.”
This time the applause was more enthusiastic, even if the loudest cheers came from off stage.
***
It was a week of frantic playing, moving, worrying, preparing and some kissing. Jeannie stayed close by at all times, but John and Rodney were inseparable. Radek watched John like a hawk, but John remained with Rodney and supported him through everything, massaging the pianist’s fingers when needed, carrying his music, sitting near him and giving him all the praise and encouragement he could.
On the day of the concert, Michael arrived with Malcolm and his minions and John nearly hid in the dressing room, but Michael took him to one side on the stage, in full view of everyone.
“You betrayed me and I will destroy you. Your plane is now mine and you will never fly again.” Michael’s voice was all the more menacing for being so quiet and controlled. “I don’t know what you hope to achieve by being with this McKay, but I hope he has a way of supporting you, for you will never work again.”
“Yeah… thanks, sir,” John tried to be brave. He already missed his plane, but he would find something and some way to survive. He couldn’t help adding, “Rodney’s going to win this.”
“You think so? Then you have never really seen money in action.” Michael’s smile was cruel and John shivered. He had seen money in action, seen his father corrupt and deceive with it, but he had never seen such a cruel smile.
“He’s bribed the judges,” John told them morosely.
“Does not matter!” Zelenka waved his hand dismissively. “Final decision is Elizabeth’s and she likes me!”
“Oh yes?” Rodney mocked. “She ‘likes’ you, does she?” John groaned when Rodney did air quotes.
“Yes!” Zelenka snapped. “Now, play!”
Rodney watched carefully, but he never saw the gun being placed. The first he knew of it was when he and John encountered Kanaan on the stage steps. It was the only time anyone had had an opportunity to place the gun, but Rodney had to make his way to the press office to talk to the reporters, so he couldn’t do anything.
Malcolm played first as the first finalist. He played the second Rachmaninov concerto and Rodney had to concede that he was good, but there were too many instances of copying his teachers’ styles. Rodney was a unique player, so he hoped that that would be enough.
Before Rodney went on, John kissed him to within an inch of his life and with that in his brain, both the one in his head and the one in his pants, Rodney walked onto the stage.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, in my last performance I was broken hearted and I found myself unable to play the fabulous concerto by Valérie Michelet, but since my heart has been mended, Valérie’s piece seems to me to be the most fitting and wonderful piece. I apologise to all of those I disappointed last time, but until that moment I had never understood how important it is to play from your heart. I now play entirely from my heart and I give you the Quebec Concerto in F major.”
There was no question in anyone’s mind who the winner was. Rodney played with fire and gusto, with lyrical love and with such dexterity that his utter genius was blatant. All were transported by the exciting new piece of music and there wasn’t a moment when the audience shuffled in impatience, waiting for the end of a passage. The applause at the end was rapturous and it didn’t matter how many judges had been bribed, Rodney had won.
No one was surprised when Elizabeth Weir announced that Rodney would be playing in the Canadian prom. As the Royal Couple made their way to the stage with the Prime Minister and his wife, surrounded by bodyguards and dignitaries, ministers, police officers, maids and attendants, Rodney waited with Zelenka and John at his side, fingers itching with pride and fatigue. He knew he had played well - better than ever and he couldn’t help the smug expression he wore on his face.
Suddenly Michael appeared from backstage. In fury he threw the piano stool to the floor and ripped the gun up from the bottom.
To Rodney everything then happened in fuzzy slow motion. Michael aimed the gun at the Royals, John flung himself forward and the gun fired. Then more guns fired, but Rodney had no idea what was going on, the only thing he could register in his mind was that John had been shot.
He threw himself in John’s direction, far too late and they both toppled to the floor with Rodney shouting and commotion all around, it wasn’t until John shook him and kissed him that Rodney came out of his fit.
“You’re… you’re not dead!” Rodney announced shakily.
“No!” John grinned. “Rodney, I’m not shot. I don’t know what happened, but I’m not shot.”
A man crouched next to them and it was clear that he was not one of the many police officers pressing about.
“Kanaan?” John said. “What…?”
“I couldn’t let anything happen,” Kanaan told them. “I shall testify. My wife and child will be saved, I hope. I switched the bullets for blanks.”
A policewoman came and led Kanaan away, but he went easily and was clearly happy to cooperate.
The next few days were filled with preparations, police interviews, press interviews and all kinds of complications, but it was eventually clear that Michael Kenmore was no longer a force to be reckoned with. He might not even survive the shot wounds he had taken when he was stopped by the Royal bodyguards. John might never see his plane again, but at least all was over. Even Rodney’s Dad had shaken Rodney’s hand and then told him to apply for a university place to ‘do bloody music if you must!’
EPILOGUE
As Rodney took his final bows after playing Miko Kusanagi’s Symphony for Piano for the Canadian prom, he reflected on the past year and all that had led to this point. A year ago he had been criticised for his clinical playing, but now he was lauded for his passion and verve. A year ago he had been battling with his father over his future and now he had a full scholarship to the Royal Academy of Music in London with an option to continue his studies afterwards at Ontario University. He had CDs to his name and on Christmas Day he had played to the nation. His story had become celebrated and everyone knew his name, at least in Canada. John was going to attend University College London to do a degree in Mathematics and was busily practising saying ‘Maths’ instead of Math. He was rich from record sales and interviews as well as concert performances and now he had just played to the world.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, as you are probably all aware, this year has been… interesting for me.” There was laughter at this and he waited for them to settle. In the front balcony he could see Zelenka’s crazy hair and John’s amazing mop and he spoke directly to them both. “I have never been into composing much before, but as a short encore I would like to play this piece that I wrote. I have learned all about love and passion and my playing has improved no end, so I wrote this to express all that I feel. It’s short and it’s called ‘John’.”
THE END
This is the second part, written for undermistletoe
“Rodney…” Zelenka made his pupil sit down and tried to find the words to explain this situation to him.
“What? Have they cancelled the concert? They can’t do that! This is the ninth concert! There are only three left and then Dr Weir will announce her choice! Radek, you’ve got to…!”
“Rodney!” Zelenka interrupted more forcefully, moving the messy bedclothes off the sofa so he could sit next to Rodney. It was the only place in the house where Rodney could sleep and since Rodney had pretty much moved in…
“What is it?” Rodney asked, panic still evident in his voice.
“It is John,” Zelenka told him flatly.
“What… what’s happened?” Rodney asked tremulously. Not John… nothing could happen to John…
“He is fine… he is not harmed… he… Rodney, he is not your friend.”
“What?”
“He is… Listen to me, ok? There is this man, he is creepy man with white hair and scars on his cheeks.” Zelenka shuddered.
“You mean Malcolm’s mentor? Mr Kenmore? He hates me for some reason and thinks that he can get back at my Dad for something through me,” Rodney admitted. “Of course he doesn’t realise that my Dad hates me, so he can’t get at him through me.”
“Rodney, pay attention! John is in league with Kenmore!”
“How can John know Mr Kenmore? He’s not into music or Physics!” Rodney protested.
“You are not listening! John has been ordered to… to make love to you! He wants to break your heart!” Zelenka explained.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Rodney retorted.
“I am not! I saw John and Kenmore speaking. Kenmore was telling John what to do and he seemed pleased. John is working for Michael Kenmore!”
For a moment Rodney sat there, stunned, waiting for more information, but then he shook his head. “No, John is… is lovely and he likes me! He comes to my concerts and he laughs with me, not at me! No… No Radek, you are wrong!”
“He wants you to lose! If he can make you break your heart then you will not play so well and Malcolm will win!” Zelenka tried.
“No! Stop it! I know you don’t like John, but… no, you’re making this up! John wouldn’t betray me!” Rodney argued.
“What do you really know about him? Where does he come from?” Zelenka asked.
“America!” Rodney answered promptly.
“Where in America? Is big place!”
“I… I don’t know,” Rodney admitted. “It never came up!”
“What does he do? Where does he live? Why is he not in school if he is so smart?” Zelenka pressed.
“He… he loves flying and Ferris Wheels, and college football and anything that goes 200 miles an hour!” Rodney told his mentor.
“In other words, you know nothing!” Zelenka closed his argument. “Rodney, he’s not…”
“Shut up! Shut up!” Rodney stood up. “I don’t know…” he did a quick clicking sequence with his fingers that accompanied his brain cells bouncing around. “You don’t like him and you don’t want me to see him! You’re a bigot who doesn’t approve of gays! That’s it! You want me to fail! Well, I can do without you! I don’t need you! I can play without your guidance!” Rodney picked up his things and started throwing them in the school bag he had arrived with.
“Rodney, no! This is not true!” Zelenka countered, trying to work out where this had all gone wrong. “I am not bigot! I…”
“I’m not listening to you anymore! John loves me! No one else loves me!” Rodney carried on.
“You can’t leave!” Zelenka put a hand on Rodney’s arm, but Rodney shook it off violently.
“I can do as I please! I’m going to find a room in the village, even if I have to walk all the way!” he announced.
“Don’t be a fool, Rodney!” Zelenka tried, but Rodney had flounced out of the door and was already half way down the mountain.
***
“Hey!” A horn beeped and Rodney found himself staring at John in a car that he couldn’t possibly own himself.
“What is this?” Rodney asked in awe.
“Aston Martin. Belongs to my boss, but I get to take it for a spin every now and again. What are you doing walking down the mountain?” John asked concerned.
“I… “ Rodney couldn’t voice the accusations that Radek had flung at his… his boyfriend. “Take me out, John. I need a day off.”
John grinned. “Sure!” he said, but Rodney didn’t see that John’s grin was slightly strained. He was too busy scrambling around to the other side of the car and placing his school bag in the back.
“So, where do you want to go?” John asked as Rodney settled and he set off down the mountain.
“Somewhere… anywhere! Just not here!” Rodney pouted. “John… you do really like me, don’t you?”
“Hey! I’m here! And you sound like a girl!” John laughed.
“I’m soooo not a girl!” Rodney grinned, feeling much more cheerful already.
“I’d be damned disappointed if you were!” John leered.
To Rodney’s astonishment, they pulled up at a small airport about half an hour later. John got out and opened Rodney’s door for him with exaggerated chivalry.
“John?”
“I told you I’m a pilot, didn’t I?” John grinned.
“Yeah, but…”
“Got your passport?”
“I have everything I own with me… except my toothbrush. I left that in Radek’s bathroom and I may…” Rodney babbled.
“So yes, you have your passport?” John interrupted drily. “I thought, Paris.”
“Paris?” Rodney squealed. “I can’t go to Paris! I have a concert tomorrow night!”
“Paris, Texas, Rodney. I don’t have a big enough plane for trans-Atlantic flights!” John grinned and Rodney slapped his boyfriend’s arm with pursed, but amused lips.
***
Rodney didn’t think he had ever had such a wonderful time. Alright, the flight had been a bit hairy in such a small puddlejumper (as John called it), and they hadn’t got anywhere near Paris… or Texas. In fact they got as far as Chicago where John took Rodney to a restaurant and Rodney took John to a show.
The next day, after a stay in the poshest hotel Rodney had ever been in and the best breakfast he had ever eaten, they went to the Navy Pier. They played miniature golf (and debated hotly who had actually won), they went on the Ferris Wheel, they went through the Funhouse Maze and then went on the Ferris Wheel again (Rodney protesting loudly all the way).
All the way through Rodney checked his watch to make sure that they were going to make it back to Toronto in time for the concert. It was amazing how much they could pack into one day.
“Isn’t it amazing how much we’ve been able to pack into one day?” Rodney exclaimed to John, checking his watch again. It felt much later than one o’clock… more like…. “John?”
John’s face had lost its joy and life. He suddenly looked guilty.
“John?”
“Rodney… there’s… there’s something I have to tell you. I…”
Rodney looked up at the digital clock on a shop front of a bank and it said five past three.
“John!” he looked at his betrayer’s face.
“Rodney… if we go now we can make it. You can change in the plane. I’ll… I promise I’ll get you there on time. I’ve phoned them to ask them to refuel now.”
“What have you done?” Rodney asked in a small voice.
“There’s no time now, Rodney. In the plane. Come on!”
With some fast negotiating with a cab driver and extra cash changing hands, they made it back to the private airfield in less than twenty minutes. It took too long to do the safety checks and then there was the waiting while other planes got in the way of their take-off, then finally FINALLY they were up in the air.
“Talk!” Rodney ordered tersely when they were safely on their way.
“I… I didn’t mean… I… I’m sorry. I put your watch forward two hours last night. I work for Michael Kenmore.” John spoke as quietly as he could over the roar of the airplane engine.
“You work for him?” Rodney asked, not really needing the confirmation. He could feel his heart shattering. “So all this… you just wanted to… what? Break my heart?”
“No! I…”
“Well, you can tell your boss that it worked. Consider my heart broken and John, when we land you will take me to the Roy Thomson Hall and then I never want to see you ever again.”
“Rodney…” John protested.
“No John,” Rodney said flatly and stared out of the window, steadfastly not listening to John as he tried to explain that he owed his plane to Kenmore, that he had no job without the man, that he had been thrown out of his own home for being gay and that he really loved Rodney. Rodney just listened to the sound of his heart beating and tried to stop stupid tears from falling down onto his crumpled tux.
Of course they were late and Rodney played badly, on automatic pilot. There were no wrong notes, but he knew that there was no passion or soul, and Chopin was dead without feeling. The applause was empty at the end and he barely bowed before leaving the stage, feeling that he had cheated the people who had paid money to hear his perform.
When they came to pay him, he refused it, even though he needed the money. He couldn’t take it after such a poor performance. In fact, he didn’t think he could ever play again. He didn’t even want to play again.
“Mer?”
“Jeannie,” Rodney gathered his sister up in his arms and burst into heartfelt tears.
It took a while for him to tell her what had happened, how John had been sent to seduce him and how he had taken him away from playing, how he had flown him to Chicago and given him the most wonderful day, but had betrayed him with the watch trick.
“Why Mer?”
“What?” Rodney threw himself down on the bed in their hotel and wished his life were over.
“Why does Mr Kenmore want you to fail?” Jeannie asked curiously.
“Because he wants his pupil, Tunney to win.”
“Really? Mr Kenmore? What does he know about music? Why does he want you to fail?” Jeannie demanded.
“I don’t know and I don’t care!” Rodney cried and threw his sister out of his room.
But it bothered him all night and in the morning he was almost ready to phone John to pose questions… almost, but not that desperate.
***
John went back to the mansion in Vancouver with a heavy heart. It really wasn’t fair that he had to work for a crook like Kenmore, just because of his plane. Kenmore had made it so that the only way he could fly was through one of his airfields and he was holding John’s plane hostage. It was the only asset that John had and it hurt that he was being forced to choose between flying and Rodney.
The only thing that was totally clear to him now though, was that he had chosen Rodney over flying. Now all he had to do was convince Rodney - and that really wouldn’t be easy, not after what he had done.
John watched Rodney’s tenth concert on the tv. Rodney appeared gaunt and haggard on the stage and the commentator even mentioned that he looked ill. John wanted to reach out and hug him, but Rodney was in Quebec on the other side of the country.
Rodney sat at the piano and posed his hands over the keyboard, but then seemed to freeze. There was a long pause and John could almost hear the people shifting in their seats as they waited for him to start, but suddenly Rodney crashed his hands on the keyboard and stood up.
“Ladies and Gentlemen… I… I was intending to play the new concerto by Valerie Michelet and… and I will play it next time, but… my heart is too heavy and I can only play this. I hope that you will forgive me. Excusez-moi, messieurs et dames, mais j’ai le cœur brisé et je ne peux pas vous donner le concerto par Valérie Michelet.”
Rodney sat down and started playing the Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven, only it wasn’t anything like the hackneyed piece that John knew. Rodney was playing with all his soul and heart and to John’s horror, he realised that there were tears pouring down his face. By the time Rodney got to the Appassionata John could hardly bear it anymore and he had to move away. He had done this to Rodney. He had broken that spirit with his awful trick and John saw himself as a shallow and selfish. What kind of person could do this to a boy just so that he could fly a plane?
John headed towards the kitchen to make himself a drink, but as he passed by the study he heard Rodney’s name mentioned, so he stopped by the door and listened.
“…leaving Malcolm to play in the play-off. He will see off any other competition and then be presented to the Prime Minister and the Royal couple.” Michael sounded gleeful.
“Then what Boss?” John recognised the voice of Kanaan, one of Michael’s hired thugs.
“You will need to get the gun to the piano stool. Tape it underneath so that it can be pulled up easily. Malcolm will retrieve it just before he is presented to the Royals. He will hand it to me. You and Todd will get the van to the stage door and be ready to receive Miss Middleton or the Prime Minister, which ever is easiest to get. Steve, you make sure the live feed is up and running, if you don’t then it will all take too long. Speed is of the essence and the Middleton woman will die if the demands aren’t met.”
“When do we get our money?” John thought it was Todd asking.
“When I am in charge of Canada. When the missiles are on route to Washington. We will be in charge and you can have anything you want,” Michael told his minion triumphantly.
“What about McKay?” Kanaan asked.
“McKay is irrelevant. He can die for all I care. I tell you what, you can take him to his father and kill him in front of the old bastard’s eyes. That will be revenge enough for him firing me!”
John had heard enough. He had suspected for a while that there was more going on in the mansion than he had been allowed to see. The airfields had all be housing military-style aircraft for months and there were other training grounds and houses dotted around the country. Michael was clearly going to use Canada as a base to attack America. It made sense. You wouldn’t need long-range missiles or huge aircraft to reach the US from its neighbouring country and the Americans never suspected plots from their friends in the North, always from the drug countries in the South. The attack would be a surprise and more likely to succeed.
John had to decide what to do, and that would start with Rodney winning the competition and being at the play-off. If he could stop Malcolm from winning and being presented to the dignitaries, then at least it would delay Michael’s plans.
***
“Radek? Dr Zelenka? Please, open up!” John banged on the door again and again. He knew that the teacher was in there as he had watched him opening curtains earlier, but the man was ignoring him. “Please? I need to help Rodney!”
“Haven’t you done enough?” Zelenka demanded furiously, flinging the door open with a crash.
“Please, give me a chance to explain? I need to help Rodney to win! I need… I love him!” John confessed desperately.
“You have ten minutes!” Zelenka told him coldly, “then I call police.”
Zelenka didn’t invite John to sit, so he stood awkwardly and began his tale.
“Look, Kenmore, he blackmails people and owns them. He owns me. He owns my plane and I can’t earn a living without it. Before I met Rodney I thought that I couldn’t live if I didn’t fly, but… Rodney is better than flying!”
Zelenka’s hard face softened a little, but John didn’t see this as he was mainly addressing the Czech’s shoes.
“Michael has this scheme to take over Canada. He wants to kidnap either Kate Middleton or the Canadian Prime Minister and take over the government. He’s been planning and trying for years, but I don’t think he’s been able to get past the defences yet. He’s mad, Dr Zelenka!”
“You are crazy to believe this,” Radek opined, but he let John continue. Having been threatened himself, he knew that Kenmore would go to extremes to get his own way.
“Malcolm is supposed to win the competition and will retrieve a gun for Michael to use. They can get a gun onto a stage more easily than by any other means. Please, Dr Zelenka, we have to get Rodney to play again, if only so we can be there to protect him. Michael wants Rodney killed in front of his father.”
Zelenka was quiet for a moment. Then he said calmly.
“You are quite mad for believing this, but you are only young - eighteen? I want Rodney to play and I want him to be happy. I think that if you can escape from Mr Kenmore’s influence you could be good for him. If you betray him again, I shall kill you myself.”
John was under no illusion. The threat was completely real. “Yes sir,” he agreed.
“Rodney is in Toronto. He does not want to play and he is in hotel with Jeannie. You must go there and persuade him.”
“Yes sir,” John said again. “Will you come too?”
“He has fired me, but yes. We will go together. You must make him love you again.” Zelenka told him angrily. “Now, I must pack. Go and wait in car.”
***
John hated being flown by someone else, but at least it gave him time to talk to Zelenka. He found himself telling the teacher all about his father throwing him out of the family home, his mother’s death, his brother’s rejection and his only asset being his beloved plane, bought for him before his father found out about his boyfriend.
He told Zelenka about mortgaging his plane and his life to help Nancy, who then betrayed him when she found out that he wasn’t rich anymore and was unlikely to inherit a large fortune after all.
He told Zelenka about the magic and freedom of flying and how he had learned that Rodney was even more important than that.
Zelenka told John about Rodney’s father and his dislike of his own son. He told John that Rodney was probably as good at science as he was at playing the piano and that he hoped that Rodney would consider a degree or two before becoming a full-time concert pianist.
Zelenka even told John why he left Czechoslovakia.
They made it in time for the concert to begin and Malcolm was already on the stage. Rodney was in the green room with Jeannie, dressed, but refusing to talk. He looked ill, gaunt, bedraggled and so miserable it hurt.
John fell in love all over again.
“Rodney?”
“What the hell are you doing here? You betrayed me!” Rodney suddenly roared and flung himself at John.
John caught him and held his wrists. “Rodney, I am so sorry. I am here to make it up to you and… I hope to save your life. Rodney, please, I love you!”
“What? How can you say that? You betrayed me!” Rodney spat, still struggling.
“I do. I didn’t realise until… you’re better than flying. I have given up my plane and my life… please Rodney?”
“You… you love me?” Rodney asked in a small voice.
John pulled Rodney into his arms. “More than flying.”
Rodney hugged John like he was a lifeline - which in a way he was. Life had been horrible without John in it and he clung to John.
“Now, will you play?”
Quickly John and Radek filled Jeannie and Rodney in. Both thought it was ludicrous, but Rodney agreed to play.
***
“Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Dr Elizabeth Weir and I am in charge of the programme for the Canadian prom. I can’t tell you how excited I am at this unique chance to showcase some of our greatest talents. Some of the evening will be taken up by our greatest stars in the classical world, but our final player will be an up and coming pianist who will play music by our youngest Canadian composers. I can say that it will certainly be a pianist. I have heard many exciting young talented performers, but I can now announce the two finalists who will play off in the Concert for Canada in the Air Canada Centre in Toronto in the presence of the Prime Minister and his guests, Prince William of Wales and his fiancée Miss Kate Middleton.
Malcolm Tunney has a sure touch and lyrical edge to his playing. He is a born performer who seems to speak to the audience through his music. He started playing at the age of six and learned with various teachers, many of whom are very well known to all of us. You can clearly hear their influences in his playing, but he will give us a fine concert in Toronto.”
There was applause for the first finalist, and then Dr Weir spoke again.
“Our second finalist is Rodney McKay. Rodney has had a fairly hard life compared to many musicians. He has never had support from his parents, unlike most performers, but he has singular ambition and drive. He works hard and has mostly taught himself, although he was also taught by the late, great Madame Ivanova. More recently he has been taken on by my dear friend, Dr Radek Zelenka who came out of retirement to train and teach the young musician. Over the course of this year I have seen this teenager grow from an arrogant, clinical player with phenomenal technical brilliance into a passionate and exciting performer who will give us a superb concert in Toronto next week.”
This time the applause was more enthusiastic, even if the loudest cheers came from off stage.
***
It was a week of frantic playing, moving, worrying, preparing and some kissing. Jeannie stayed close by at all times, but John and Rodney were inseparable. Radek watched John like a hawk, but John remained with Rodney and supported him through everything, massaging the pianist’s fingers when needed, carrying his music, sitting near him and giving him all the praise and encouragement he could.
On the day of the concert, Michael arrived with Malcolm and his minions and John nearly hid in the dressing room, but Michael took him to one side on the stage, in full view of everyone.
“You betrayed me and I will destroy you. Your plane is now mine and you will never fly again.” Michael’s voice was all the more menacing for being so quiet and controlled. “I don’t know what you hope to achieve by being with this McKay, but I hope he has a way of supporting you, for you will never work again.”
“Yeah… thanks, sir,” John tried to be brave. He already missed his plane, but he would find something and some way to survive. He couldn’t help adding, “Rodney’s going to win this.”
“You think so? Then you have never really seen money in action.” Michael’s smile was cruel and John shivered. He had seen money in action, seen his father corrupt and deceive with it, but he had never seen such a cruel smile.
“He’s bribed the judges,” John told them morosely.
“Does not matter!” Zelenka waved his hand dismissively. “Final decision is Elizabeth’s and she likes me!”
“Oh yes?” Rodney mocked. “She ‘likes’ you, does she?” John groaned when Rodney did air quotes.
“Yes!” Zelenka snapped. “Now, play!”
Rodney watched carefully, but he never saw the gun being placed. The first he knew of it was when he and John encountered Kanaan on the stage steps. It was the only time anyone had had an opportunity to place the gun, but Rodney had to make his way to the press office to talk to the reporters, so he couldn’t do anything.
Malcolm played first as the first finalist. He played the second Rachmaninov concerto and Rodney had to concede that he was good, but there were too many instances of copying his teachers’ styles. Rodney was a unique player, so he hoped that that would be enough.
Before Rodney went on, John kissed him to within an inch of his life and with that in his brain, both the one in his head and the one in his pants, Rodney walked onto the stage.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, in my last performance I was broken hearted and I found myself unable to play the fabulous concerto by Valérie Michelet, but since my heart has been mended, Valérie’s piece seems to me to be the most fitting and wonderful piece. I apologise to all of those I disappointed last time, but until that moment I had never understood how important it is to play from your heart. I now play entirely from my heart and I give you the Quebec Concerto in F major.”
There was no question in anyone’s mind who the winner was. Rodney played with fire and gusto, with lyrical love and with such dexterity that his utter genius was blatant. All were transported by the exciting new piece of music and there wasn’t a moment when the audience shuffled in impatience, waiting for the end of a passage. The applause at the end was rapturous and it didn’t matter how many judges had been bribed, Rodney had won.
No one was surprised when Elizabeth Weir announced that Rodney would be playing in the Canadian prom. As the Royal Couple made their way to the stage with the Prime Minister and his wife, surrounded by bodyguards and dignitaries, ministers, police officers, maids and attendants, Rodney waited with Zelenka and John at his side, fingers itching with pride and fatigue. He knew he had played well - better than ever and he couldn’t help the smug expression he wore on his face.
Suddenly Michael appeared from backstage. In fury he threw the piano stool to the floor and ripped the gun up from the bottom.
To Rodney everything then happened in fuzzy slow motion. Michael aimed the gun at the Royals, John flung himself forward and the gun fired. Then more guns fired, but Rodney had no idea what was going on, the only thing he could register in his mind was that John had been shot.
He threw himself in John’s direction, far too late and they both toppled to the floor with Rodney shouting and commotion all around, it wasn’t until John shook him and kissed him that Rodney came out of his fit.
“You’re… you’re not dead!” Rodney announced shakily.
“No!” John grinned. “Rodney, I’m not shot. I don’t know what happened, but I’m not shot.”
A man crouched next to them and it was clear that he was not one of the many police officers pressing about.
“Kanaan?” John said. “What…?”
“I couldn’t let anything happen,” Kanaan told them. “I shall testify. My wife and child will be saved, I hope. I switched the bullets for blanks.”
A policewoman came and led Kanaan away, but he went easily and was clearly happy to cooperate.
The next few days were filled with preparations, police interviews, press interviews and all kinds of complications, but it was eventually clear that Michael Kenmore was no longer a force to be reckoned with. He might not even survive the shot wounds he had taken when he was stopped by the Royal bodyguards. John might never see his plane again, but at least all was over. Even Rodney’s Dad had shaken Rodney’s hand and then told him to apply for a university place to ‘do bloody music if you must!’
EPILOGUE
As Rodney took his final bows after playing Miko Kusanagi’s Symphony for Piano for the Canadian prom, he reflected on the past year and all that had led to this point. A year ago he had been criticised for his clinical playing, but now he was lauded for his passion and verve. A year ago he had been battling with his father over his future and now he had a full scholarship to the Royal Academy of Music in London with an option to continue his studies afterwards at Ontario University. He had CDs to his name and on Christmas Day he had played to the nation. His story had become celebrated and everyone knew his name, at least in Canada. John was going to attend University College London to do a degree in Mathematics and was busily practising saying ‘Maths’ instead of Math. He was rich from record sales and interviews as well as concert performances and now he had just played to the world.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, as you are probably all aware, this year has been… interesting for me.” There was laughter at this and he waited for them to settle. In the front balcony he could see Zelenka’s crazy hair and John’s amazing mop and he spoke directly to them both. “I have never been into composing much before, but as a short encore I would like to play this piece that I wrote. I have learned all about love and passion and my playing has improved no end, so I wrote this to express all that I feel. It’s short and it’s called ‘John’.”
THE END