{"id":260,"date":"2014-10-01T10:06:11","date_gmt":"2014-10-01T10:06:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/staffblogs.le.ac.uk\/english\/?p=260"},"modified":"2025-02-26T13:19:42","modified_gmt":"2025-02-26T13:19:42","slug":"kontakte-and-other-stories","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/staffblogs.le.ac.uk\/english\/2014\/10\/01\/kontakte-and-other-stories\/","title":{"rendered":"Kontakte and Other Stories"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Kontakte\"<\/a><\/p>\n

My short story collection, Kontakte and Other Stories<\/em>, which was first published in July 2013, has now been republished by Roman Books in a new second edition.<\/p>\n

The book is a collection of stories based around the theme of music, in different contexts. There are stories about music and love, music and sex, music and illness and, particularly, music and its tremendous and sometimes terrifying\u00a0power. Each story centres on a piece of music, exploring the subject thematically, stylistically and structurally.<\/p>\n

The collection has been shortlisted for the Saboteur Award for Best Fiction Anthology, and longlisted for the Frank O’Connor International Short Story Prize and the Edge Hill Short Story Prize.<\/p>\n

You can read a version of the preface to the collection on Thresholds International Short Story Forum<\/a>.<\/p>\n

And you can read one of the stories from the collection below.<\/p>\n

Hope you enjoy it! Thanks, Jonathan Taylor<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ladies and Gentlemen, Tonight\u2019s Concert Will Commence in Fifteen Minutes<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

But she remains sitting.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She remains sitting in the bar area.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She remains sitting in the bar area of the Victoria Hall, Hanley, sipping her usual.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She remains sitting in the bar area of the Victoria Hall, sipping her usual, waiting for Charlie.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She remains sitting in the bar area of the Victoria Hall, sipping her usual, waiting for Charlie and Tchaikovsky.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She knows what has happened.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She knows what has happened to Charlie\u2019s wife.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She knows what has happened to Charlie\u2019s wife, since their last concert, a month ago.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She knows what has happened to Charlie\u2019s wife, since their last concert, a month ago \u2013 the cancer, the funeral, the notices in The Evening Sentinel<\/em>.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Despite that, she knows he will come through that door in a minute or two.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She knows he will come through that door in a minute or two, kiss her hand, take her arm and lead her through Door B to the stalls.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She knows he will come through that door in a minute or two, kiss her hand, take her arm and lead her through Door B to the stalls, as he has done for the last nineteen years. After nineteen years, she no longer needs him \u2013 and he probably no longer dares \u2013 to call in advance, to arrange their meetings. All she needs do, every September, is just get hold of the Victoria Hall\u2019s calendar for the season, and pencil all the Tchaikovsky concerts into her diary \u2013 because she knows that, on those evenings, he will come through that door, kiss her hand, feign surprise at their accidental meeting, and lead her through Door B to the stalls.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Or at least, she used to know that, used to be sure.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But this particular evening she also dreads something else.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She also dreads that he will come through the door \u2026 differently.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She dreads that he will stride through the door differently, with a new mac, a bunch of chrysanths, a new kind of assurance.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She dreads that he will come through the door differently, with a new mac, a bunch of chrysanths, a new kind of assurance, and sit next to her and say: \u201cNow she\u2019s gone, let\u2019s not do the concert this time. Now she\u2019s gone, let\u2019s change nineteen years of habit. Now she\u2019s gone, let\u2019s talk, sit, walk, kiss, go on holiday, get married, all to the music of Tchaikovsky. I loved her<\/em>, but she\u2019s gone. Now I can love you instead. I\u2019ve known you for nineteen years. Nineteen long years.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And after nineteen long years, she\u2019ll have to tell him.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

After nineteen years, she\u2019ll have to tell him that, for her, it\u2019s still a business arrangement. Still a matter of \u00a360. Nothing more nor less. Honestly, nothing else at all, whatsoever, in the slightest, even after nineteen years. The music was neither here nor there, even after nineteen years.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Even after nineteen years.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Nineteen years \u2013 two more years than he was married to her<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Ladies and gentlemen, tonight\u2019s concert will commence in ten minutes. <\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He was lonely.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He was lonely back then.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He was lonely back then, and he\u2019d found her classified ad and dialled the number.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He was lonely back then, and he\u2019d found her classified ad and dialled the number: \u201cDo you like Tchaikovsky?\u201d he\u2019d asked.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It was an unsual pick-up line, and she\u2019d been tempted to ask something back like: \u201cWhat position is that?\u201d or \u201cIs that something the Slavic ones do?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But she hadn\u2019t, had lied instead: \u201cYes, of course, everyone likes him, great stuff, love it,\u201d and that had been that, for nineteen years. Nineteen years of Tchaikovsky. Nineteen years of deafening Russian brass, self-indulgent emotionalism, tunes which spun round and round her head for days afterwards, didn\u2019t stop even during simulated orgasms with other clients. Nineteen years of waiting for him here, sipping her usual, being led through Door B to the stalls, sitting on bum-achingly-hard chairs, pretending not to be bored or near sleep, now and then squeezing his knee, now and then catching his eye moving down her blouse, or up her thigh towards a strategically-exposed stocking-top, now and then glancing at him when he wasn\u2019t looking, when he was engrossed in some particularly intense fortissimo<\/em> moment \u2013 at his side-combed hair, his dandruff, his bony shoulders \u2013 and thinking, for that moment, the music had done something to his eyes, made them seem too droopy-heavy for his face, or somehow too heavy for her, and she\u2019d look away again, thinking instead of the \u00a320, \u00a330, \u00a340 or \u00a350, depending on inflation, which she would get at the end of the night, and which would pay for something she thought she needed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight\u2019s concert will commence in five minutes. Please take your seats.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She\u2019d thought all this would finish when he met her<\/em>.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She\u2019d thought it would finish when he met her<\/em>, when he married her<\/em>.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She\u2019d thought it would finish when he met her<\/em>, when he married her<\/em>, when she started the new accounts job,when she got married herself, didn\u2019t have a kid, then got divorced, when gradually, one by one, her old regulars \u2013 all of whom preferred, shall we say, non-Tchaikovskyian services \u2013 stopped calling.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t need me any more,\u201d she\u2019d said to him, one 1812<\/em> evening. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you bring her<\/em> instead?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cShe doesn\u2019t like Tchaikovsky. She likes Michael Barrymore.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cShe thinks I come on my own. Or I think she thinks that.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cNo-one here knows either my wife or me, well, apart from you. I think.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And so it carried on.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And so the concerti, the overtures, the ballet excerpts, the eardrum-thumping symphonies carried on.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight\u2019s concert is about to begin. Please take your seats.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And so the concerti, the overtures, the ballet excerpts, the symphonies carried on, till now.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But now he is not here.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She glances over at the upside-down programme clutched by a couple rushing past her, reading the words right to left: ynohpmyS euqit\u00e9htaP, yksvokiahcT<\/em>. She doesn\u2019t need to reverse the words. She knows already she\u2019s in the right place at the right time.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But he is not.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He is not here.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He is not here, and there is quiet around her.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He is not here, and there is quiet around her, a hush in the concert hall.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He is not here, and there is quiet around her, a hush in the concert hall, followed by applause for leader and conductor.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He is not here, and there is quiet around her, a hush in the concert hall, followed by applause for leader and conductor \u2013 and then, Tchaikovsky\u2019s Path\u00e9tique<\/em>, his favourite, is creeping, on pianissimo<\/em> bassoon, through the half-open door to the stalls opposite.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Tchaikovsky\u2019s Path\u00e9tique<\/em>, his favourite, is coming, on pianissimo<\/em> bassoon, through the half-open door to the stalls opposite: first movement, Allegro non troppo<\/em>, then second movement, Allegro con grazia<\/em>, then Allegro molto vivace<\/em>, and finally<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and finally, sitting alone with her empty glass, only the Adagio lamentoso<\/em> filling it, she thinks of Charlie\u2019s side-combed hair, his dandruff, his bony shoulders<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and finally, sitting alone with her empty glass and only the Adagio lamentoso <\/em>filling it, she thinks about what this music, which she has heard so many times before, but never really heard, seemed to do to his eyes, making them too droopy-heavy for his face, making them too heavy for her, making her look away.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Or, at least, until now.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

At least until now, when she no longer wants to look away.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

At least until now, as the gong, the bassoon, the final B-minor chords make even her ageing eyes feel too droopy-heavy for this world and<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and she pushes her glass away<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and leaves before the applause.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My short story collection, Kontakte and Other Stories, which was first published in July 2013, has now been republished by Roman Books in a new second edition. The book is a collection of stories based around the theme of music, in different contexts. There are stories about music and love, music and sex, music and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":157,"featured_media":261,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[26,7,18],"tags":[38,37],"class_list":["post-260","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-creative-writing","category-research","category-short-story","tag-jonathan-taylor","tag-kontakte-and-other-stories"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/staffblogs.le.ac.uk\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/260","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/staffblogs.le.ac.uk\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/staffblogs.le.ac.uk\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/staffblogs.le.ac.uk\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/157"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/staffblogs.le.ac.uk\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=260"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/staffblogs.le.ac.uk\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/260\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":264,"href":"https:\/\/staffblogs.le.ac.uk\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/260\/revisions\/264"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/staffblogs.le.ac.uk\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/261"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/staffblogs.le.ac.uk\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=260"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/staffblogs.le.ac.uk\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=260"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/staffblogs.le.ac.uk\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=260"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}