Music from Home

by Geraldine O'Neill

  “This is going to be interesting,” he said when he found their table on the list.

  “What do you mean?” Maria asked.

  “I hope you’re feeling all grown up and serious, because we’re down as Mr and Mrs Spencer.”

  “What?” Her voice was incredulous.

  He started laughing. “It’s okay, you don’t need to panic – they still have my parents’ names on the list and probably at the places on the table.”

  “Oh God,” she said, laughing along with him, “I know we both want to look a bit older, but being taken for a married couple is pushing it just a bit too far.”

  When they walked in, Maria’s eyes were immediately drawn to the five sparkling chandeliers – four in the corners of the room and a larger central one – and she thought it was easily the most elegant room she had ever seen. It had dozens of big round tables, and each one was decked out with a white tablecloth that pooled onto the floor, topped with a smaller black-and-gold square cloth and fancily shaped napkins. Each table was circled by ten white linen-covered chairs, the backs of which were adorned with bows fashioned from gold material. There was an elaborate silver candelabra on each table and two tall vases filled with lilies on either side of it.

  They were the first to arrive at their table and within a few minutes of sitting down a young waiter in tails came to take their drink order. This time Maria asked for a glass of lemonade, and when Paul checked she said that she would rather have that for now, and maybe have a glass of wine along with her meal.

  More and more people were coming in now, looking around the room and debating as to where they were seated. Three older couples joined their table, and they all smiled and said good evening to Paul as though they knew him, and smiled at Maria.

  When the group were all settled and occupied chatting amongst themselves, Paul whispered to Maria that he hoped she wasn’t going to be bored sitting with another older crowd and she laughed. He then said he was embarrassed that he didn’t know any of their names, as they weren’t close friends of his parents, just people they knew from the group who were running the dance.

  “Lots of people are bound to know your father, with him being a jockey,” Maria whispered back. “As long as you smile at them, and be really friendly when they speak to you, you’ll be fine. My father says that’s what he does in the restaurant as all the customers like it if he remembers them.”

  He smiled and squeezed her arm. “That sounds like good advice – I can’t argue with that.”

  Jim McPherson came in with a pretty blonde girl on his arm – neither of the girls who had been talking to him at the bar – who was wearing a long orange sparkly dress which drew a lot of glances. He paused at their table and Maria could feel his eyes taking in every detail about her, and she began to feel awkward and wondered if he thought she was very young-looking. Paul introduced them and then Jim introduced the girl he was with as Dawn, which Maria thought was a much more glamorous name than her own.

  When another young couple came to the table and sat in the two spare chairs beside Maria, Jim and Dawn moved away to look for their own places. Paul had never met the new couple before, so he waited until they were settled and then introduced himself and Maria, and they said they were Alison Wood and Michael Murphy. They told them they had come with a group but there had been too many for the one table, so a few of the couples had been put on other tables.

  Alison was a bubbly friendly girl, and within minutes Maria felt she’d known her for ages. She loved Alison’s gorgeous long cream dress with a gold bodice, and when she complimented her on it Alison confided that she had tried on loads of things and ended up borrowing the dress from her older sister.

  “Michael is eighteen, but I’m only turned seventeen,” Alison said, “and I was afraid I would look too young in my own things.”

  Maria then whispered to her that she wouldn’t be sixteen until May.

  “I don’t believe you!” Alison’s eyes were wide with surprise. “I thought you were about nineteen!”

  Maria smiled and liked her even more.

  After a while people started to pick up their menus and discuss whether they were going to have melon or prawn cocktail and, for the main course, coq au vin, beef bourguignon or salmon.

  When the wine was being poured, Alison leaned towards Maria to say weren’t the waiters very serious in their fancy uniforms, and she had to stifle a giggle when they were all addressed as ‘sir’ or ‘madam’. Maria giggled along with her and did not say that she spent many of her evenings in a restaurant and was so used to hearing people being called ‘sir’ or ‘madam’ that she did not even notice it any more.

  The chatty girl then went on to tell her that she and Michael had been going out for nearly a year and were planning to get engaged in the summer. “We haven’t told anyone else yet, so you’re the first to know.” She then put her hand to her mouth. “If any of our group come over to talk to us, you won’t say a word, will you? It’s just that Michael’s sister is here and we’d be in big trouble if she thought I’d told a complete stranger that we were getting engaged before her!”

  Maria assured her she wouldn’t say a thing.

  “And how long have you two been going out?” Alison asked.

  Maria moved closer to her and said, “We’ve known each other a good while, but we’ve only actually been on one date before this.”

  “What?” Alison said. “I don’t believe it. You’d think you’d been going out ages!”

  After the meal the tables were cleared and a lively band came on, playing up-to-date music. At the beginning only a few couples braved the floor, but when they started on a string of Beatles hits and then The Twist, the floor began to get busy. When Alison and Michael got up it was evident they were great dancers, and they kept waving back to Maria and Paul – who were happily watching everyone dance and commenting on the better dancers – to come and join them. Paul seemed reluctant to and it struck Maria that he might not actually be any good at dancing, and the thought made her feel a bit wary of actually getting up. She loved dancing and she and Stella often danced around to the radio in their bedrooms. She unconsciously moved in her chair in time to the music now, thinking that she wasn’t quite sure how she would feel if Paul was clumsy on the floor or uncoordinated.

  She went to the ladies’ and took a few minutes checking her hair and make-up. Then, as she was on her way back to the table, enjoying the band playing ‘Day Tripper’, her hand was suddenly grabbed by Alison, who insisted she come and join them on the floor.

  “We’ve already hijacked Paul,” she said, giggling, and pointed across the dance floor to where he was standing chatting to Michael.

  “I don’t know if he likes dancing,” Maria said. “I don’t even know if he can dance.”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Alison laughed. “And if he can’t, then we’ll just bloody well have to teach him!”

  As they weaved their way through the crowds, Maria told herself that she would have to remain relaxed and easy with him even if he was an awful dancer. It struck her as they passed a particularly loud group who were carrying on, laughing and switching partners, that even though she had never seen Tony on a floor, she guessed he would be a good dancer. Confident, chatty boys were nearly always good dancers, she thought, and Paul was definitely not like that, being quieter and more thoughtful in his ways.

  Just as she reached him the band finished playing ‘Day Tripper’ and after a few seconds’ break they started playing ‘Unchained Melody’. He smiled at her and moved to put his arms around her waist and she leaned in towards him and put her head on his shoulder. After a few steps, she realised it was okay because, although they were moving slowly, they were actually moving in time together. Later, when the faster music came back on again, he kept in time, but Maria noticed that he repeated the same safe steps over and over again rather than varying them as she did.

  At one point he said to her, “You’re a terrific dancer
– you’ve got great rhythm. I’m afraid I’ve not danced for ages and I’m not exactly Fred Astaire at the best of times.”

  “You’re absolutely fine,” she told him, and his slightly embarrassed admission made her warm to him even more.

  As the night wore on she thought his dancing had definitely improved and, by the time the band were calling for the final dances, she was dancing in her usual way and Paul’s movements were much more relaxed.

  When the band finished playing the usual final number, Engelbert Humperdinck’s ‘The Last Waltz’, they headed out to the cloakroom so they would be in plenty of time for their taxi. As they were standing in the cloakroom queue, a distinguished grey-haired man spotted Paul and came across to them. Paul introduced him as William Ashton, a friend of his father’s, who owned a stud farm out in Pot Shrigley.

  “The last time I was speaking to your father he asked me about good stable-management courses, and I told him I’d heard of one up in Northumberland and I’d find out the name of the college.”

  “It was for me, actually,” Paul said. “I finish school this year and I want to get some qualifications before I start full time in the stables.”

  William smiled. “Lesley, my wife, said she guessed it might be for you as your mother told her you were leaving school in the summer. The women are never far wrong. It’s called Ponteland Equine College – I believe it’s just a few miles outside Newcastle and near the airport. From what I’ve heard it’s one of the best.”

  Paul frowned. “Northumberland is a bit of a distance from here, isn’t it?”

  Maria felt her stomach muscles tighten as it dawned on her that Paul might in fact be planning a move away from the area – which meant he was moving away from her. He obviously didn’t reckon on them being a good long-term bet – he was only filling in time with her until he found something better. She tried to smile and look as though she was interested in equine courses, but her face felt stiff and unnatural and she was relieved when the cloakroom attendant asked for her ticket and she could turn away from them before it was noticed.

  William laughed. “Well, you wouldn’t want to be driving there every day, but I suppose it wouldn’t be too bad coming home at weekends.”

  Paul looked thoughtful. “How long does the course run?”

  “The Horse Breeding and Training diploma is a year, but there are other advanced courses in things like Equine Business Administration you can progress on to after that if you want. The chap who went there said if you just give them a ring they’ll send you a brochure and application form. I think he said you have another month before the application date closes.”

  “Thanks, William,” Paul said. “It sounds exactly what I’m looking for. I’ll definitely look into it.”

  They put their coats on and went outside to see if their taxi had arrived. There was a late winter frost on the ground and on the tops of the taxis waiting there, and Maria found herself shivering.

  “No sign of ours yet.” Paul put his arm around her and drew her close to him. “You are absolutely gorgeous.” He kissed her on the nose. “My God!” he exclaimed. “Your nose is absolutely freezing!” He held her at arm’s length, laughing.

  She looked at his bright, animated face and started laughing too.

  “Come on,” he said, taking her hand and swinging their arms back and forth. “We’ll go back inside and watch for the taxi through the glass door.”

  Inside, as they stood huddled together, he put his hand under her chin so he could look at her properly. “There’s more than a fair chance I’ll end up going to Northumberland in September and, if I do, do you think you could put up with us just seeing each other at weekends?”

  Her eyes lit up, and when she looked back at him she could tell by the serious expression on his face that he wanted to keep seeing her – that he wasn’t just filling in time. “I think so,” she said, smiling. “I’m sure I’ll find something to do to keep me busy during the week.”

  “As long as it’s not other boyfriends,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

  “I could say the same about girlfriends . . .” She looked back at him and then smiled and raised her brows to match him.

  “Are we agreed?” he said. “I meant what I said earlier on about not being interested in anyone else. I’m a little bit older than you and I’ve had a few girlfriends, but they were only casual. I’ve never got on with anyone the way I get on with you.”

  “I know I’m younger and have never had a serious boyfriend before, but I feel the exact same. And, if things are still going well with us, then I’ll be happy to know you’re doing a course that will help you with your future, but I’ll be even happier to see you at weekends.”

  His face became solemn now and he just stared at her, until she had to ask him if there was anything wrong.

  “Not a thing,” he said. “I just can’t believe my luck. I was so worried about going away to Northumberland and maybe losing touch with you that I was even thinking of not applying. I thought I might just do a local course. It wouldn’t be as good, but at least I would be near you.”

  “But it’s important,” she said. “It’s your future.”

  “Yes,” he said. “But so, I hope, are you.”

  She saw the sincerity in his eyes and felt her heart quicken. “I’d like that too,” she said.

  They turned to look back now as a noisy group came out from the dance hall, and then Maria heard someone calling her name and Alison came rushing towards them.

  “We didn’t get your address and phone number!” she said, all out of breath. “Michael and I were just saying what a lovely couple you were, and we thought you might like to come to our engagement party.”

  “Oh, that’s lovely of you,” Maria said. “I think I’ve got a pen in my bag.”

  Paul dipped into his inside pocket and brought out a little black notebook.

  “Hey,” Alison said, laughing, “I hope that’s not full of other girls’ addresses!” She dug Maria in the ribs. “You know what they say about men with little black books, don’t you?”

  “No,” Maria said, raising her eyebrows, “and I don’t think I want to know.”

  “Better off not knowing, love,” Alison said, mimicking a wise old Northern woman.

  Paul shrugged, trying not to laugh. “Do you honestly think,” he said, “that I would look at anyone else when I have someone as lovely as this?” Then, in full view of the others, he bent his head and kissed Maria passionately on the lips.

  Alison let out a shriek of laughter and started to clap, then Michael and all the other people around joined in.

  When Paul finally let her go, Maria turned her blushing face towards Alison and said, laughing along with them all, “I could kill you!”

  Michael tapped his girlfriend playfully on the head. “Come on, trouble,” he said, “or I’ll be digging out my own little black book and looking for a replacement for myself.”

  Chapter 16

  It had been ages since Maria had gone to eight o’clock Mass on a Sunday morning. She usually accompanied her father to the one at eleven o’clock, but after last night she was wide awake and feeling too happy to sit about the house waiting.

  She had been lying in bed for an hour, going over and over the highlights of the night before, remembering when Paul had told her that his going to Northumberland would not affect them, and then reliving the best bit at the end of the night when he had kissed her in front of everyone.

  She had just picked up a book from the bedside cabinet and was ready to start reading when she suddenly thought it would be a change to walk down to the church while it was still so early. It would also give her the rest of the day to herself, to chat to Stella about the dance when her father was at Mass, and to think about her and Paul.

  She crept quietly along the hall into the bathroom so as not to wake her father and, after a quick bath, she got dressed in her smart red woollen coat with a black polo-neck sweater, short grey skirt and long black boo
ts. She stopped in the hallway to put on the black hat with the red trim that matched her coat. Then she scribbled a note for her father to say where she was and went quietly out of the door.

  It was a misty morning with the last vestiges of winter stamped all over it. As she walked along the avenue towards the main road, she noticed the hedges and trees were all hung with cobwebs like delicate white lace curtains and it made her smile. Things like the way the fir-tree branches were edged with white and the pattern the frost made on car windscreens seemed more interesting to her than normal, and she couldn’t decide whether it was a particularly unusual day, or whether it was just the extraordinarily good mood she was in.

  Going along the main road, it occurred to her that Sunday morning was not like any other day of the week. The weekdays were busy with everyone going to work or school, and Saturday had its own busyness with early shoppers and people walking their dogs or out for the morning papers. Eight o’clock on a Sunday, she thought, was just quieter and slower, and the few people who were around were more inclined to acknowledge you with a nod or a ‘Good morning’ rather than just walking past as though you were a ghost.

  The traffic got a little busier nearer the church and there were more people around.

  Inside the church, Maria found an almost empty pew about a third of the way up the aisle on the left. There was only one other person in the pew, sitting at the opposite end – a nicely dressed woman who Maria guessed to be somewhere in her thirties.

  When she was settled in, with her gloves off and bag on the floor, Maria glanced around her to see if she knew anyone, but there were only people she knew by sight – no school friends up this early or any of their Catholic neighbours. On second glance, she thought the woman at the other end of the pew was older than she first thought – probably nearer her father’s age, and he was now heading up to forty. She tried not to look too obvious, but she couldn’t help but admire the woman’s lovely black-and-white checked coat which had a black fur collar and matching fur muff.