The Wall Read Online Free Page A

Sara Bertelli. She slowly laid her head down
    on the piano keyboard, her eyes shut tight. A drop eased out from the
    squeezed eyelids and dripped on to ivory, and then another followed.
    How had she got to be twenty-eight years old without ever having a
    serious relationship? How could she let herself get so isolated from
    other human beings? Why did she let things get so hectic and
    unfulfilling? Why had she let ambition rule her life?
    Looking back over the years, it was easy to see the progression of
    events. She had worked like a dog for so long, taking as many music
    and singing lessons as she could afford, working at nights, searching
    for a lucky break into the competitive field of popular music. Her
    talent was dynamic and did not go overlooked for long. But then
    there were the long, hard years of pure, intense, furious creative
    work. Ambition is a drug that one gets hooked on, and Sara had been
    a complete slave to its demands. She gave totally, with great drive
    and power, whether she was in the recording studio or on the stage,
    and the greedy public sucked it all up like a sponge taking in water.
    One thing led to another, until all the aspects of her life seemed to
    have culminated in the one event that had made her decide to leave
    Los Angeles for an extended, long-overdue vacation.
    It had been a long day in the recording studio. The musicians were
    tired and irritable, and Sara's throat had ached. So had her head. She
    was exhausted, she remembered ruefully, and the tension of the
    weeks before, the terrible glittering, empty party that she had been
    obliged to attend the night before, and her own stretched nerves had
    caused her self-control to snap and she had ended up in a bitter fight
    with Barry, her agent. She had rushed out of the room and he had
    followed closely behind. Crazy, weak, infuriating tears coursed down
    her cheeks.
    'Here, love,' Barry coaxed softly, shocked at the sight of her tired
    weeping, 'I know you've had a hectic time of it. We'll take a ten-
    minute break and get everyone a cup of coffee and into a better mood
    before we go on.'
    She asked him, 'Couldn't we just stop for the day, Barry? I've had a
    total of three hours' sleep last night because of that stupid party you
    got me committed to going to, and an average of four or five for the
    past three weeks. This pace is going to kill me! Can't we slow down a
    little?'
    'Now, baby, you know we can't, not today!' he had replied, a great
    deal alarmed at her show of weakness. She had never cried before, at
    least not that he had known of, and he didn't know how to handle a
    woman's tears. 'We're way behind schedule as it is, and I've got
    people panting down my neck for the release of this new album. I
    know it's a bruising pace, but it's only for another month, and then
    you can take a vacation. How does that sound?'
    'I need a vacation now, not a month from now,' she whispered,
    leaning tiredly against the wall. 'Barry, I don't think I'm going to
    make it.'
    'You will, love,' he said bracingly. Then, with more anxiety at the sad
    little shake of her head, he said, 'You've got to, Sara. You're
    committed to, by contract. You are going to make a million easily off
    of this album, and if you break the contract's terms by discontinuing
    the recording now, the studio could sue. They could ruin you
    financially.'
    'What if they've already ruined me—if I've already ruined myself?'
    she had asked, unable to keep the bitterness inside.
    Barry watched her closely, then reached into his pocket to draw out a
    small pillbox. He opened it up and held it out to her. 'Here, take one
    of these, love. It'll make you feel better, and then you can crash
    tonight. Go on, it won't hurt you.'
    Tired beyond naming, depressed, discouraged and disheartened, Sara
    had stared at the little pillbox in Barry's hand. In her mind's eye she
    could see her own hand reaching out to accept what he was offering.
    She wanted to take that pill. She had always known