by Liz Fenwick
Fin walked to the window and looked out. Jaunty thrust herself out of the chair. Fin came to help her but she pushed him away. The river was still, or appeared so, yet Jaunty knew the changes were always happening below the surface. She didn’t know why Gabriella had never told her about what had happened, why she’d buried whatever it was.
‘You know it’s not too late for Gabriella to sing again.’ Max spoke softly.
Jaunty saw her own reflection in the glass. ‘I know that with work it could happen. But she has lost years of training.’ She shook her head. ‘She sings every day but it’s not the same, and who knows if she could or would ever step on a stage again.’ Jaunty had held the secret too long. She had left it too late to help her granddaughter.
Fin carried Jaunty down to the quay. The sun was low in the sky and a gentle breeze stirred the water. Gabe steadied the boat as Fin helped Jaunty to get in. Despite careful handling, Jaunty nearly fell and Gabe wondered why they were doing this. However, the smile on Jaunty’s face spoke of happiness, so Gabe didn’t say anything, just settled her grandmother on to the cushion she had brought for that purpose.
Fin untied the boat and began to row. The tide was high and the low-slung branches that lined the creek rested in the calm waters. Jaunty was alert, watching everything, then suddenly she stilled and stayed looking at the right-hand side. Gabe couldn’t read her expression and she stared in the direction of Jaunty’s glance, but saw nothing apart from the trees. The creek was quiet except for the plashing of the oars and the calm surface mirrored the evening sky above.
Gabe turned and looked in front of the boat. A thin mist shrouded the surface of the water ahead and a shiver ran up Gabe’s spine as the banks reached towards each other and trees almost touched. The character of the creek transformed. Any sense of civilisation had disappeared with the thickening mist. Jaunty’s expression altered and years seemed to disappear from her face.
Fin stopped rowing and let the momentum take them along. He pulled out a basket from under his seat and produced a bottle of champagne and some plastic flutes. The pop echoed around them and Gabe frowned.
He handed the first glass to Jaunty. ‘Happy Birthday.’ Gabe couldn’t see his face, but his deep voice carried clearly on the dense air. He turned and handed a glass to her, then smiled. How had she forgotten it was Jaunty’s birthday? She had been too wrapped up in her own thoughts.
‘Thanks.’ Gabe raised her glass. ‘Here’s to you, Jaunty.’ Fin placed a leg over the seat so that he could see both of them. He took a sip and then pulled a loaf cake out of the basket. ‘Lemon drizzle seems appropriate considering the changeable weather conditions.’ He glanced towards the river. A bolster fog had moved in and erased the view. They were alone and the world felt very far away. Even the birds had stopped and an odd silence filled the air.
‘Thank you. Birthdays at my age are not something you really want to remember, but if you are going to, this is perfect.’ Jaunty smiled and lifted her glass. As she waved her empty hand, Gabe noted how bent the fingers were, as though she was holding a brush.
‘I love this creek.’ Jaunty’s eyes filled with tears. Gabe watched her compose her face, trying not to show emotion, but it wasn’t working. Her grandmother reached for the necklace she always wore. It was a long chain that held a ring by her heart. Gabe assumed it was her wedding ring. She’d once asked but Jaunty had never really answered her. Gabe couldn’t remember now what she’d said, something like ‘It was a promise.’ Yes, those were her words.
‘Shall we sing?’ Fin looked to Gabe and held a knife above the cake.
Gabe could hear a different question in his voice. It was more, will you sing? Of course she would sing happy birthday to her grandmother. She had not become that precious.
Gabe began and Fin’s solid baritone followed her lead. The tears that had been pooling in Jaunty’s eyes fell down her face. She clapped her hand as best as she could with her cupped fingers. ‘May I ask for you to sing the song your father loved, the Scottish ballad “Ailein Duinn”?’
Gabe looked at her grandmother and could see the longing on her face. How could she refuse? She nodded and took a sip of the champagne. She closed her eyes and sang.
How sorrowful I am
Early in the morning rising
Ò hì, I would go with thee
Hì ri bhò hò ru bhi
Hì ri bhò hò rinn o ho
Brown-haired Alan, ò hì, I would go with thee
If it is thy pillow the sand
If it is thy bed the seaweed
Ò hì, I would go with thee
Hì ri bhò hò ru bhi
Hì ri bhò hò rinn o ho
Brown-haired Alan, ò hì, I would go with thee
If it is the fish thy candles bright
If it the seals thy watchmen
Ò hì, I would go with thee
Hì ri bhò hò ru bhi
Hì ri bhò hò rinn o ho
Brown-haired Alan, ò hì, I would go with thee
I would drink, though all would abhor it
Of thy heart’s blood after thy drowning
Ò hì, I would go with thee
Hì ri bhò hò ru bhi
Hì ri bhò hò rinn o ho
Brown-haired Alan, ò hì, I would go with thee
The last note hung on the mist and in the distance the sound of farm machinery carried from the shore. Jaunty sighed and shivered at the same time. A soft rain had begun to fall. Fin looked directly into Gabe’s eyes before she could put away the emotion the song had stirred. A look of understanding flashed across his face and then, without a word, Fin began to row back to the quay.
Jaunty was up and dressed when Gabe came out of her room at seven. Gabe blinked when she saw her grandmother putting yoghurt into a bowl.
‘Good morning.’
‘Indeed it is.’ Jaunty smiled. ‘Can I do one for you?’
‘Not awake enough to eat yet.’ Gabe yawned.
Jaunty sat down. ‘Ah, but I heard you singing.’
‘Just exercises.’
‘Thank you for yesterday.’
‘No problem.’ But of course it was. Her heart had opened up and she’d looked at Fin before she closed it. That was the difficulty. She could not sing without making herself vulnerable. Well, that wasn’t quite true. She could sing ‘Happy Birthday’ or ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’, but not truly sing. For that she had to open her heart, and he had seen. He had touched her arm but didn’t say anything as he left last night and she could still feel his hand.
She opened the back door and came face to face with him.
‘Morning.’ His hair was askew as if he’d just run his fingers through it and there was a shadow of stubble across his face, which just served to highlight the good bone structure. She must not have closed her heart again totally last night, for it raced inside her.
‘Yes.’
‘May I use your shower?’ He looked at the towel thrown over his arm. His shirt wasn’t buttoned and she stared at his chest before blushing and turning away.
‘Sure.’ Two large steps took her to the fridge where she dug inside to find the grapefruit juice. When she stood up he had disappeared, but she could hear him singing in the shower. It was ‘O Sole Mio’ and Jaunty caught her glance. They both laughed.
‘It’s best he never seeks a career on the stage.’
‘Quite.’ She took a sip of the juice and frowned when the sour taste hit the sides of her tongue. ‘I’ll just dash out and pick up my music on the piano while he’s here.’
The dew was heavy and the rising sun caught the beads of moisture. The wind came from the north, bringing a distinct chill but also clearer skies. There was a little fog lingering on the river which would quickly burn off as the sun rose. Gabe’s mood lifted.
Inside the studio she stood
in front of the piano. Her fingers reached out to the keys. Her hand had healed almost totally now. Checking that she was still alone, she sat down and played Max’s music and then began to sing, this time letting the emotion of the piece build fully in her. Her voice opened as it hadn’t in years, and when the song finished she found she had stood at some point, knocking back the stool.
Fin stood in the doorway wrapped in nothing but a towel. ‘I didn’t want to disturb you.’
‘Sorry.’ Gabe righted the stool and collected the sheets of music.
‘Apology not required. In fact, I’d love to ask for more.’ He stepped fully into the studio, close enough to her that she could see the goosebumps on his arms. She didn’t dare look at anything but his arms. Even letting her eyes stray to his throat was playing havoc with her equilibrium. She felt raw and exposed from singing and yet high at the same time. Seeing a near-naked Fin wasn’t helping.
She glanced down and saw a large expanse of thigh. Colour rushed to her face, which was ridiculous. She was a grown woman. As she walked past him, she looked up and caught his glance. Her feet refused to go any further and Fin didn’t move. She could see flecks of green in his blue eyes and a damp curl fell on his forehead. His mouth formed a half smile.
Gabe finally managed to find her voice. ‘I’d better go and check on Jaunty.’
‘Yes, she was finishing her breakfast and enjoying listening to you in the distance,’ he said. ‘She loves hearing you sing.’
‘She has always loved music.’
‘You can tell. Have you thought about singing her Max’s work? Maybe take her to Manaccan.’
Gabe chewed her lip. Jaunty might really enjoy the outing. She’d coped well with last night’s trip and seemed so much brighter for it this morning. ‘It’s worth considering.’
‘Good.’ His glance met hers and she couldn’t move. ‘I’m full of good ideas.’ His mouth lifted into an enigmatic smile. Gabe tore her glance away from his mouth and it fell on to his bare chest, then down to where the towel sat very low on his hips. She swallowed then fled down the path, thinking she must find him a larger towel.
Jaunty looked at the Fin and at Gabe. Something had changed and the atmosphere around the table almost sizzled.
‘I’ve spoken to Max and he says to come at any time.’ Fin passed Gabriella the salad.
Gabriella turned to her grandmother. ‘Jaunty, would you like to come to Manaccan to Max’s to hear me sing?’
Jaunty dropped her fork, then quickly picked it up, hoping her mouth wasn’t hanging open. Leave Bosworgy? It had been so long since she had even gone as far as the supermarket. She looked around the room knowing she would be leaving it for ever soon.
‘Maybe it would be too much.’ Gabriella exchanged glances with Fin.
If she didn’t go now then Gabriella would find a way not to go. ‘I would love to,’ she said firmly.
Gabriella looked at her closely. ‘Are you sure?’
Jaunty wondered if she was. She was safe here, but she must teach her granddaughter that being safe wasn’t everything. ‘Yes. I would like to.’
Gabriella nodded. ‘OK, after lunch then.’
‘I’ll let him know.’ Fin went to the phone in the kitchen.
Jaunty studied her granddaughter. Her hair was not pulled back quite so tightly and a stray strand had escaped, framing her oval face. She didn’t look as gaunt as she had done, and her glance kept darting to Fin when she thought she wasn’t being watched. This was all good, but Jaunty wanted to know what had changed her mind about singing. This was a seismic shift. Last night when she’d sung it was if an angel had come from heaven. The voice wasn’t as rich as it should be, but then singing in a foggy creek was not exactly ideal. Jaunty remembered how her mother complained about various conditions affecting her voice.
Jaunty stood and Gabriella rushed to her side. ‘I’m fine. I just need the loo, which I can manage on my own.’
Gabriella stepped away. ‘Have you finished eating?’
Jaunty turned. ‘Yes.’
‘Tea or coffee?’
‘No, thank you. I’ll be ready to go when you are.’ Jaunty made her way into her room. She hadn’t heard Gabe sing properly in too many years and she had never seen her on stage. A whole life wasted in fear that someone would discover her secret, and now she was going to tell everyone. Had the secrecy been worth it?
Jaunty gasped as she walked through the door to Max’s sitting room. Above the sofa hung a large canvas she had painted twenty years ago. It was all in yellows. Philip and Gabriella, summer. She had never seen her paintings anywhere else but her own domain. The room swayed a bit, but Fin took her elbow and steadied her. He whispered in ear her, ‘I own several of your paintings. Sadly, they are in storage at the moment.’
She turned to him.
He leaned closer to her. ‘No, I didn’t let the ex take them.’
Jaunty frowned. Seeing her work on someone’s walls shouldn’t surprise her. After all, she had been selling paintings for years. The J was painted in burnt umber. J. Jean. Jaunty blacked out for a second.
Fin guided her by the elbow to the big sofa under her work and Jaunty turned her head for one last look.
‘Can I get you anything?’ Max asked Jaunty as he led Gabriella to the piano.
‘No, thank you. Please forget I’m here.’ She turned to Fin, who was sitting next to her.
‘Same here.’ Fin glanced quickly at Gabriella then back to Jaunty.
Max waved his hand. ‘Make yourself at home.’
Fin nodded.
Jaunty watched her granddaughter. The vitality that had shown in her eyes this morning had vanished. Another strand of hair had fallen down, softening the features but not hiding her fear. Even from this distance Jaunty could see the small pupils.
Max sat down at the piano. ‘I would just love to hear you sing this first section, to let me see how you have interpreted it. Is that OK?’
‘Could we do a warm-up first?’
‘Of course! I’m sorry I’m so eager. I had the youth choir I’m working with singing parts last night, but I’m just desperate to hear you sing it.’
Gabriella’s mouth lifted into a half smile then she swallowed. Jaunty noted her hands were clasped tight.
Max ran through some scales to flex his fingers then hit a note when Gabe indicated. She worked through some vowels. Her voice grew with each repetition.
Max shifted through some music. ‘How about Hahn’s “À Chloris”?’
‘Good.’
Max began to play and Gabriella sang. Jaunty closed her eyes. She knew the song well. Her mother used to sing it all the time.
Arpeggios . . .
Dietrich’s long fingers run across the keys. Mother looks to him and he begins.
Bright hot sun reflects off the lake, bouncing on to the ceiling. A fly circles my head and Dietrich’s shoulders flex. He’s so handsome. His mother sits beside me with her wrist in a bandage.
Mother finishes. The last note fades.
‘You will go far, Dietrich. The world will be yours.’ My mother kisses the top of his head as if he is a toddler and not fifteen.
Dietrich.
‘That was perfect, Gabe.’ Max shuffled some papers.
‘I wouldn’t go that far. Where are we starting?’ Gabriella’s speaking voice had dropped.
Max pointed. ‘If we begin here where Nancy has been parted from William and then sing straight through to here?’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
Max played and Jaunty let the new music carry her away. She didn’t want to look backwards, but the sadness in the opening movement chipped away at her reserve. Gabriella sang of lost love and her voice wrapped itself around Jaunty’s heart. Jaunty closed her eyes.
Alex’s warmth seeps into me. His body meets
mine from shoulder to ankle. The stars sparkle.
‘I love you.’ He kisses me and I feel desire but sleep is calling me. Alex holds my hand.
Jaunty grabbed her heart and fell on to Fin.
Part Two
Gabriella
Monday for danger,
Tuesday kiss a stranger,
Wednesday for a letter,
Thursday for something better,
Friday for sorrow,
Saturday see your lover tomorrow.
Sneeze on Sunday morning fasting,
Enjoy your true love for everlasting.
Fourteen
Gabe paced the waiting room. They’d been there an hour and Fin watched her from the far side of the room. He was still clutching the white plastic cup from the vending machine and Gabe wondered why waiting rooms in hospitals had to be so dreary.
Fin’s phone rang and he stood and stepped outside. She studied him through the glass door. The sun shone, but that cold north wind blew and it pushed his curls to one side. He’d been a rock. When Jaunty had collapsed he’d been on the phone to emergency services in seconds. His quick actions with CPR had kept Jaunty alive while they waited for an ambulance.
When Fin walked in a doctor came with him.
‘Miss Blythe?’ The doctor looked at her.
Gabe stood. ‘Yes.’
‘Your grandmother is in a coma.’
Gabe nodded.
‘She has also had a stroke.’
She held her hands together, trying to read between the lines. ‘What does it mean?’
‘They may not be connected. She had a minor heart attack last week and she is also diabetic; her blood sugar had dropped too low and we are correcting this, but thus far it has had no effect. Did she hit her head or suffer any other trauma recently?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’
Fin coughed quietly, then said, ‘I don’t know if this is important but she told me she had stopped seeing colour a year ago. I looked it up and it said a possible cause could be head injury.’
