The Moonlit Garden

by Bomann, Corina

  “Have you considered the idea that you could also sell antiques here? You could specialize in items from Germany. Cuckoo clocks are all the rage, with locals and tourists alike.”

  “What a shame that I don’t deal in cuckoo clocks,” Lilly said, thinking back to their first night together when the same idea had crossed her mind.

  “You should get some in as a matter of urgency. But that aside, what do you think? Would you consider it?”

  “If I think of you, I definitely would,” she said. “Perhaps I might even consider moving to London at some stage. But my parents are here, and they aren’t getting any younger.”

  “There are such things as airplanes,” Gabriel said.

  Lilly sensed he was in earnest. “Yes, there are. We’ll talk about it soon.”

  “About airplanes?”

  “No, about the possibility of moving to London. I’ve only known you for a few weeks. Maybe you’ll get fed up with me sooner than you think.”

  “That’s unlikely. I’m not someone who gives my heart away as easily as that, but I understand what you mean. I should make more effort to sell myself to you.”

  “Even more effort? Is that possible?”

  “I’ll think of something, you can bet on that!”

  They said their good-byes, and Lilly switched off her cell phone, gazing up happily at the sky. A few areas of blue were showing in the patchwork of clouds, a beam of sunshine reaching down to the earth. Who would it land on? With a sigh of happiness she stowed her cell phone in her bag and boarded the train.

  When she arrived at her parents’ house, she noticed a strange car parked in front. The plate number indicated a rental car. Did she have a visitor? Or had Ellen rented a car? Why would she do that?

  She stepped through the garden gate, breathing in the spring air mingled with the scent of moist soil. She felt more at peace now that she had solved the mystery of the violin. And the fact that Ellen was not just her best friend but also her cousin was one of the best things that had happened to her that year. What more could she want?

  As she entered the house, she heard voices. Ellen was talking to a man . . . She knew that laugh!

  She raced toward the living room and stood rooted to the spot in the doorway.

  “Gabriel?”

  He leapt up. His smile was more outrageous than she had ever seen it.

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “But we were just on the phone. How could you—” Before she could finish her sentence, it dawned on her. “You’re using a travel SIM card, aren’t you? That’s why I didn’t see the number.”

  Gabriel laughed. “That’s right.”

  “But how?” She looked across at Ellen, who was grinning broadly.

  “An airplane, Lilly, flying. One of the best human inventions ever. And Hamburg has an excellent airport.”

  Lilly was bowled over. A thousand butterflies had begun to flutter in her stomach.

  “So was that conversation we just had all for nothing?”

  “No, not at all. It made my wait at the traffic lights pass much more quickly.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I assumed that the new Lilly could take it.”

  He took her in his arms and kissed her.

  “Well, all we need to know now is why Lord Havenden broke his word and simply abandoned his pregnant lover,” Ellen said thoughtfully as they sat at the kitchen table over coffee and cakes that Ellen had bought from a nearby baker’s.

  A look of triumph crossed Gabriel’s face.

  “You’ve found something else out in the meantime,” Lilly guessed.

  He nodded.

  “After finding that letter at the Carmichaels’, I looked up the Havendens. It wasn’t an easy task, since the name died out some time ago. But after a little digging around, I managed to locate his sister’s daughter, who now lives in Devon, with live-in care, of course. The old lady didn’t know Paul Havenden personally—she wasn’t born until 1920. But she still remembers well the stories her mother told. According to her, Paul Havenden and his wife, Margaret, were killed in a shipwreck in the Indian Ocean.”

  “What?” Lilly’s hand flew to her mouth in shock.

  “I checked it out, and it’s true that in 1902 a passenger steamer sank after colliding with a mail steamer. It would be called human error today—the captain of the mail steamer had miscalculated the route.”

  “So perhaps he had intended to marry Rose after all?”

  “Possibly, who knows? But he never got the chance to put his honesty to the test.”

  It took a while to sink in with Lilly.

  “Did Paul’s niece know anything about the letter Rose sent to his ancestral home?”

  Gabriel shook his head. “No, I don’t think she did. And I assume that the letter I found at the Carmichaels’ never reached Havenden Manor. Carmichael would have discovered that Paul was no longer alive.”

  “So he let Rose believe that he had simply forgotten her?” Ellen shook her head indignantly. “He could have told her what had happened.”

  “Maybe he wanted to protect her.”

  “Protect her?” Lilly was agitated now. “What could be worse than believing that he never really loved her? I’m sure the news of Paul’s death at sea would have hit Rose hard, but at least she could have hoped that he had truly loved her. And if she’d known, perhaps she might have made a different decision about her baby. And maybe she would have had the chance to know love again.”

  At that moment Ellen’s cell phone rang. She jumped in surprise, fished the buzzing device from her bag, and disappeared with it into the kitchen.

  “That has to be a sign,” Gabriel remarked, and drew Lilly toward him again and kissed her. This time it was a much longer, more passionate kiss than when Ellen had been there.

  “What will my cousin think of us?” Lilly asked reproachfully.

  “That we’re madly in love with one another?”

  Lilly gave him a broad smile. “OK, you’re right. I hope you’ve got time to stay here in Germany for a while. I’d like to show you my shop.”

  “I’m not so sure about that if you don’t have any cuckoo clocks . . . ”

  Epilogue

  Sunlight flooded into Lilly’s apartment on Berliner Street as the sound of the phone ringing tore her abruptly from her sleep. Muttering to herself, she opened her eyes and reached for the bedside phone.

  “Kaiser.”

  “You won’t believe this!” came Ellen’s voice on the line.

  “Ellen?” Lilly rubbed her eyes. The previous night had been later than she had intended, and now a glance at the alarm clock told her that it was already after ten. “What won’t I believe? Have you won the lottery?”

  “No, we’ve received a letter.”

  “A letter?”

  At that time of the morning her mind was still too sluggish to grasp what Ellen meant and why she was so excited.

  “Enrico’s written. You remember?”

  As she gradually shook off her sleepiness, she had a mental image of the station in Cremona and the wonderful palazzo. And of course its good-looking occupant.

  “Yes, I remember.” And at once the scales fell from her eyes. “Oh my God, he hasn’t—”

  “Yes, he has. Or his friend, more like. He’s finally completed his analysis of the music.”

  “So?” Lilly was wide awake now. After all she had discovered during the last few weeks, she was beyond surprise.

  “Your dream wasn’t too wide of the mark concerning the mystery.”

  Ellen paused for effect.

  “Come on, don’t keep me in suspense!”

  “There really was a kind of code in the music that ultimately spells out a name.”

  “What’s the name? And how did Enrico’s friend work it out?”

  “Enrico goes on at length in his letter about complicated calculations. His friend wrote it all out on the sheet music, but it’s all Greek to me. All we need to know i
s that his calculations led him to a four-letter name.”

  Lilly felt like crawling down the telephone line and shaking her friend, who was clearly reveling in her impatience.

  “Adit?” she asked.

  “No. Rose.”

  “What?”

  “Rose.”

  “That can’t be true!”

  “Why not?”

  “So it means that Rose didn’t compose the piece?”

  “Not necessarily. Either Helen used it to refer to her mother, or Rose immortalized her own name in the music. It could also be possible that Enrico’s friend played around with the possibilities so much that he had to come up with something. Perhaps it’s all nothing more than a huge coincidence.”

  “Perhaps,” Lilly replied, but her momentary disappointment soon vanished. She had solved the biggest part of the puzzle and in so doing had reunited her family. Could she wish for more?

  “Is Gabriel still with you?” Ellen asked.

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Give him my regards.”

  “I certainly will.” They both hung up.

  Lilly put the phone back on the bedside table, then turned to her side. It looked as though the phone ringing had not disturbed Gabriel’s peaceful sleep. Lilly allowed herself a moment to gaze at him. Although she had done so many times during the last few days, she still thought she saw something new every time. After he had given her such a surprise by turning up like that, she had managed to persuade him to stay for two whole weeks. Their time was coming to an end the next day, and she was already dreading seeing him leave. It would not be for long, though, as she was going to visit him soon. Her plans to move to London were far from definite, but Lilly had begun to consider it seriously. But first she wanted to get her thoughts in order, reorganize her life. She would need some time for that. But she had not felt such energy and optimism for a long time. She could do this! Together with Gabriel.

  “Gabriel,” she whispered, smiling gently and brushing a lock of hair from his face.

  “Hm.” Even her touch seemed unable to rouse him from his sleep. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, but to no effect. It wasn’t until she kissed him on the lips that his arm shot up and grabbed her. With a cry of delight Lilly snuggled up to his chest.

  “Ellen says hello. She’s received a letter from Enrico di Trevi.”

  “I heard. At least that Ellen called.”

  “So you weren’t asleep?”

  “Who could sleep through a phone ringing?”

  “I thought you might be sunk too deeply in your dreams.”

  “That only happens when I’m dreaming of you. Any other time I can quite easily snap out of dreamland. Fortunately I don’t have to dream of you at the moment, because I have you here.”

  They kissed again; then Gabriel looked at her expectantly.

  “Any news?”

  “Only that the music probably does contain a code. One that produces just a single word: Rose. We still don’t know who composed ‘The Moonlit Garden.’”

  “Do we need to know?” Gabriel replied with a huge yawn.

  “Says the man who’s been researching these women’s lives for such a long time.” Lilly nudged him gently.

  “Well, if we want to find out when the music was written down, we can have the paper analyzed. Then we’d have the date it was produced and would know for certain. But that would be incredibly unromantic, don’t you think? Let’s leave them with this one little secret and let people puzzle over who wrote ‘The Moonlit Garden.’”

  He drew her back into his arms and kissed her.

  About the Author

  Photo © Hans Scherhaufer

  Bestselling author Corina Bomann was born in Parchim, Germany. She originally trained as a dental nurse, but her love of stories compelled her to follow her passion for writing. Bomann now lives in Berlin.

  About the Translator

  Photo © 2014 Sandra Dalton

  Alison Layland is a novelist and translator from French, German, and Welsh into English. A member of the Institute of Translation and Interpreting and the Society of Authors, she won the 2010 Translators’ House Wales / Oxfam Cymru Translation Challenge, as well as various short-story competitions for her own writing. Her published translations include a number of novels and nonfiction titles, and her own debut novel, Someone Else’s Conflict, was published in 2014 by Honno Press. She is married with two children and lives in the beautiful and inspiring countryside of Wales, United Kingdom.