I get out my phone and hold it so he’s clearly in shot. ‘Tell me when to press record,’ I say.
He studies me for a moment before shaking his head. ‘No. Change of plan. We’re going to need to rest it on something. Hang on.’
He gets up from the piano and goes over to the bar, returning with a selection of empty glasses in different styles. After some experimentation, he manages to wedge the phone in between a couple of them without compromising the view the lens has.
‘Right,’ he says as he sits back down on the piano stool. ‘Hit record whenever you’re ready and give me a thumbs up so I know I can start.’
I do as he says but, instead of starting to play, he looks directly at the lens and begins to speak.
‘Hello, Martin,’ he says. ‘This is Gabriel Campbell, coming to you from the Elixir Hotel and Spa in Montego Bay, Jamaica. I believe you know my friend Tori. Tori, why don’t you come into the shot and say hello.’
He grins as I frantically make slashing movements across my throat to indicate that I don’t want to do that, before beckoning me, pointing at the piano stool to indicate that I should sit next to him. Reluctantly, I get to my feet and join him.
‘Say hello,’ he repeats.
‘Hi, Martin,’ I say into the camera.
‘Tori told me that you liked “La campanella”, so I thought I’d give you a personal rendition. As you’ll see, I’ve taken the liberty of customising it a little. I hope you don’t mind.’
I start to get up from the stool to return to my seat, but he says, ‘No, bring the chair over here.’
‘I’ll be in the way of the camera,’ I protest.
‘OK, then put it the other side of me. You inspired this, so you should be part of it.’
I get up and bring the chair over, positioning it as he directs. Gabriel flexes his long fingers a couple of times before starting to play. The piece is quiet, almost hesitant to begin with, but it’s only a matter of moments before his hands are dancing across the keys and his right hand in particular is almost a blur as it picks out the complex melody. I’m so completely entranced that it takes me a moment to realise that, although the style is identical and his fingers are still moving at breakneck speed, the tune has changed and we’re now listening to a heavily enhanced version of Lady Gaga’s ‘Poker Face’. Almost as soon as I’ve clocked that, we return to the original melody for a while, before it changes again into ‘Bad Romance’. It’s utterly seamless and I’m blown away. If there was ever any doubt that Gabriel was indeed a world-class pianist, this would be enough to dispel it. Once again we return to the original melody, which is getting more dramatic now, followed by a brief diversion into ‘Born This Way’ before returning to the original for the thunderous conclusion. By the end, both his hands are moving so fast and pounding the keys with such intensity that he seems almost superhuman and I’m vaguely surprised the piano doesn’t break.
‘I hope you enjoyed that, Martin,’ he says into the camera once he’s finished. ‘It was all inspired by this incredible lady sitting next to me, so I just want to take this moment to say thank you to Tori.’ He leans over to me and whispers so quietlythere’s no way the phone microphone will pick it up. ‘Are you OK if I kiss you?’
The request renders me briefly speechless, so I just give a quick, almost imperceptible nod. The kiss itself is over in a moment, but my lips feel like they’re on fire from the contact with his. You know the competition where you have to try to eat a jam doughnut without licking the sugar off your lips? It’s almost impossible because of the way the sugar makes them tingle. That’s how mine feel right now, only the feel of Gabriel’s lips against mine is sweeter than any sugar. One thing is for sure. I want a lot more of it, and soon.
‘You might want to stop the recording now,’ Gabriel says softly, bringing me back to earth from wherever it is that I’ve just been.
‘Oh, umm, yes. Good point,’ I stammer, getting shakily to my feet and pressing the button on my phone. ‘That was incredible,’ I tell him, not actually sure now whether I’m talking about the music or the kiss.
‘I’m glad you liked it. I’ve been working on it all day. I wanted it to be just right for you.’ He closes the lid of the piano gently, and my eyes are fixed on his hands as he does so. If his lips merely brushing mine for a moment can have the effect they did, imagine what his hands on my skin would do. The thought of it is almost too much to bear as I realise that I’m hopelessly turned on. The physical proximity to him as he played, the intensity of the music and thenthatkiss at the end have all combined like some kind of drug to completely overpower the rational thoughts that would normally keep me in check. I’ve never wanted anyone this badly before.
24
‘Are the others expecting you back for dinner?’ Gabriel asks as we make our way across the sand towards Raphael’s bar. The kiss has evidently unlocked something, as our hands seem to have intertwined on autopilot and one of his fingers is lazily caressing the back of my hand. I don’t know if he knows the effect he’s having on me, but my legs are definitely slightly unsteady.
‘We haven’t made concrete plans,’ I tell him, pleased to note that the wobbliness in my legs hasn’t infected my voice as well. ‘Although awful Amy was demanding that everyone show up for the hotel disco later.’
‘Really?’ He smiles. ‘Would it surprise you if I told you I know the DJ?’
‘Of course you do. Who is it?’
‘My brother Uriel. It’s one of his side hustles, under the stage name DJ Uri. Do you think Amy would really be that upset if you missed it?’
‘Why?’
‘I thought I might take you out to dinner, if you’re available. Give you a taste of Jamaican cuisine.’
‘We have Jamaican dishes at the hotel, I’ll have you know.’
‘No, what you have at the hotel is a couple of Jamaican dishes, seriously dialled down so as not to upset European and American tastebuds. The real stuff is much more exciting.’
‘Is it going to blow my head off? I don’t mind spicy food, but there are limits.’
