by Liz Fenwick
‘Enough!’
Gabe crept over to the sofa and peered at him. He was sound asleep but arguing with someone.
‘Verdi.’ He turned over and the pillow came out from under his head and he rolled off the sofa and landed with a thump.
Gabe raced into the kitchen and put the milk on. She didn’t want him to find her watching him while he slept. She would be mortified if someone watched her when she was having her nightmares. Her heart went out to him.
‘So I’m not the only one who isn’t sleeping well.’
Gabe turned to him. He was dressed only in his boxers – and she wasn’t sure how his wife could have preferred anyone but him. She didn’t know where to look. ‘Hot chocolate?’
He rubbed his chin. ‘Perfect.’
‘Won’t be a minute.’ Gabe turned back to the hob. She’d been staring. But it was OK to find him so attractive. Because he was. She hadn’t had these feelings in years and now there was a gorgeous, mostly naked, man standing less than a foot away. She wanted to turn around and kiss him. He was attractive, more than attractive. OK, who was she fooling? He was sex on legs and she was way out of practice.
‘There’s quite a draught coming in through the back door.’ He walked over to it, checking it was fully shut. Gabe sneaked a peek but then turned away quickly when he walked back to the sitting room. Gabe took a calming breath. This was fine. It was perfectly normal to feel attraction. She was thirty, but she just wished her hormones hadn’t woken up so violently. She didn’t react this way with Max, who was just as good-looking, but there was something in Fin’s eyes and that full mouth . . . She swallowed and took the milk off the heat.
She carried the mugs into the sitting room. Fin had thrown on a V-neck cashmere sweater and disappointment swamped her. Her eyes travelled to his thighs. She was behaving like someone starved, feasting on the view of all his beautiful flesh. She handed him a mug and sat on the chair opposite. Sitting next to him, on the sofa with his blankets bunched, would have been too much.
‘What was keeping you awake? Was I talking?’ He raised an eyebrow.
Gabe smiled. ‘You were talking, but I didn’t hear that until I was in the kitchen.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘I hate to think what I was saying.’ He blew on the surface of his cocoa.
‘Oh, nothing too revealing.’ Gabe kept a straight face. ‘Or too compromising.’
‘Oh, do tell.’ He grinned.
‘No, I think I’ll keep it to myself.’
‘Tease.’
Gabe looked into her mug and felt the blood drain from her face.
‘Are you OK?’ Fin spoke quietly.
She nodded. He hadn’t meant anything by it. She must let go. Looking up, she pointed to his upper lip and laughed. He had a chocolate moustache. Fin licked it off and Gabe closed her eyes as she took a sip. The combination of chocolate and Fin was almost too much. She had to pull herself together. Maybe she needed to get out more after all, if one scantily clad male with a kissable mouth reduced her to a mass of desire.
‘What woke you?’ Fin put his mug down.
‘Wasn’t a case of waking but of never sleeping.’ Gabe turned the mug in her hands. ‘I think singing stirred up too many emotions that couldn’t be shut down easily.’ She looked up at him. ‘As you gathered, I haven’t sung many of these pieces in a long time.’
‘May I ask why?’
Gabe sat upright in the chair then pulled her legs under her. May he ask why? She looked at him and something inside went click. Jaunty liked him. Gabe liked him. She swallowed then said, ‘It’s a long story.’
‘To stop such a talented artist it must be.’
A rueful smile crossed Gabe’s face. ‘I’ll try to make it as short as possible, if I can.’ She stopped. Her stomach clenched in spasms. ‘After a competition, a big one, there was a party where much alcohol was consumed.’ She frowned, struggling to find the words. ‘I was being hailed as the next big thing and I was walking on air, but I realised that I wanted to go to the hotel. I needed to be away from so many people, to let it all sink in.’ Gabe closed her eyes. She could do this. ‘One of the judges offered to walk me back because it was about two in the morning, and I agreed.’ She thought about the conversation. They had spoken about how well it had gone and the future. He had taken her hand and she had thought nothing of it. When he asked her to his room for a drink she should have said no but her ambition overruled her sense and the warnings she’d received. Even now she still felt it was her fault, despite what the counsellor had said. If she hadn’t said yes . . . ‘When we reached the hotel the bar was shut so he invited me to his room for a nightcap.’ Gabe swallowed. ‘I said yes. I didn’t think I could say no to him because he was one of the most renowned opera critics in the world. One good word and my career would be made.’ Gabe’s throat constricted. ‘He asked me to sing for him, and when I came to the end of the song . . .’ Gabe took a deep breath. ‘He raped me.’
Even now Gabe wasn’t sure what haunted her most, the rape or living through being photographed, questioned and examined afterwards. No, she thought now, it was the guilt. The guilt that she had gone to his room. The guilt that she did nothing and he walked away to do what he’d done to her to others.
Fin rose and came over to her. He placed his hand on hers. ‘Did you go to the police?’
Gabe nodded.
‘What happened?’
‘Nothing.’
‘What?’
‘No, it wasn’t them. They were supportive but I couldn’t press charges because I was at fault. There were so many rumours about him and I knew better than to be alone with him. It was my ambition. It was my fault.’
‘It’s never a woman’s fault.’ He lifted her chin. ‘No woman asks to be raped. No woman deserves to be raped. He was wrong.’
Gabe closed her eyes.
‘I wish I could believe you, and part of me does. My head says what you say is true and if I think of any other woman I agree, but . . .’ Gabe looked at Fin. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s history and it changed the course of mine, that’s all.’ Gabe closed her eyes briefly.
‘No, he was wrong in every way.’ He knelt beside the chair and as a tear fell he wiped it away, which just made them fall faster.
Fifteen
It was noon when Gabe finally set out for Truro. Everything about her felt raw. Fin had left a note on the table saying he had caught a lift to Falmouth with Max to see how the repair of his boat was going. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or not that he hadn’t been there when she woke. How could she have told him all of that last night?
The car park was full and she had to circle for five minutes before someone left. Leaving the car, she grabbed the CD. The laughter that took place while making it seemed a lifetime ago and not a matter of hours. The staff nurse gave her a beaming smile as she approached the desk to get an update on Jaunty’s condition.
‘Have you brought the CD?’
Gabe nodded.
‘Excellent. We’ve received permission and the woman in the room with Jaunty has said she has no objections, although she admitted she would rather have you singing live!’
Gabe’s eyes opened wide.
‘Yes, in fact we were chatting yesterday after you left, wondering if we could tempt you to sing to the patients in a few of the other wards. It would lift their spirits no end.’
Gabe frowned. Things were moving out of her control.
‘Unlike your grandmother, many don’t have any visitors.’
‘I’m not sure. I haven’t sung in public in years. I’m not very good.’
‘How can you say that!’ The nurse took her hand and led her down the corridor to a large ward filled with elderly patients. ‘They’re not critics, just people in need of a bit of joy. Your singing would bring anyone happiness.’
Gabe swallowed, then
smiled at the curious glances she was receiving. ‘I’ll think about it.’
‘Please do, and if you sing to Jaunty today, belt it out so all of us can enjoy it, please.’
Gabe nodded and quickly escaped to the chair beside Jaunty’s bed. Her head was swimming. This was all too much at once. Jaunty’s condition hadn’t changed. Gabe took her grandmother’s bent hand in hers and stroked the gnarled fingers. In her heart she knew it wouldn’t be long. She couldn’t and shouldn’t do anything to prolong Jaunty’s life. Her body looked so frail lying there with tubes coming out of her.
Gabe began to hum a lullaby, the one that Jaunty used to sing to her when she was scared and missing her father. Jaunty’s hand clenched hers with some strength and when Gabe began to sing softly the fingers curled tighter. The lullaby finished and Jaunty’s hand relaxed. Without pausing, Gabe began Jaunty’s favourite aria. She didn’t stop to think about other people, only reaching her grandmother. She stood with Jaunty’s hand in hers and let the words flow out. Jaunty’s fingers held hers and Gabe wasn’t imagining it.
As the final note finished, Gabe looked down and Jaunty’s eyes were open and the patient in the bed next to hers was clapping and shouting, ‘Bravo, encore!’
Fin walked through the door. He must have been standing there the whole time. ‘Jaunty . . .’ Gabe wrapped her arms around her ‘. . . you haven’t left me yet.’
Jaunty blinked.
‘I’ll get the nurse.’ Fin disappeared as quietly as he had arrived.
Gabe stroked Jaunty’s cheek. She couldn’t believe her grandmother was back with her.
Gabe rummaged in an old chest of drawers looking for a decent nightgown or set of pyjamas for Jaunty. Gabe knew she wasn’t at ease in the hospital gown and she had already placed some clean knickers and a hairbrush on the bed. In the bottom drawer she found a nightgown she had given Jaunty at least fifteen years ago and clearly it had never been worn. Gabe shook her head, then her fingers encountered a hard edge. An old notebook. It was an odd place for a book, but then Jaunty did things like that all the time. She pushed it back to where it had been and rushed to put everything into a bag. Fin was going to drive her to the hospital in a few minutes. He needed to borrow the car so he would drop her off.
The doctors had been very encouraged by Jaunty’s progress yesterday. Gabe hadn’t wanted to leave and it was odd to do so to the sound of her voice singing. The woman in the bed next to Jaunty’s had been most appreciative and her grandmother had fallen asleep with a smile on her face.
Even with all of the excitement of Jaunty waking up and a more positive prognosis, Gabe knew in her heart this wasn’t for long. Jaunty was ninety-three and had been holding it all together on her own for a very long time. It couldn’t have been easy raising Gabe’s father alone and then getting lumped with a granddaughter, but Jaunty had never complained. She had done it. She was remarkable in so many ways and almost her greatest achievement was that she was famous but unknown – no mean feat in today’s world.
Gabe picked the bag up off the bed and went to meet Fin who was changing the bin liner. He looked up and smiled. ‘Ready?’
She was still exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before, yet he appeared totally rested. ‘Yes.’ She looked about the kitchen and saw the post in a neat pile on the counter. At the sight of the bills Gabe sighed. This week, now that they had the Internet, she would switch all of Jaunty’s bills over to paperless ones. She knew it was silly but bills seemed less lethal on a screen, somehow.
Fin carried the rubbish up the hill then held open the passenger door for her. With music on she nodded off on the journey. She couldn’t remember when she had felt this safe with someone. Maybe she never had . . .
‘I’ll pick you up in two hours.’
‘Thanks.’ Gabe dashed to the front doors and made her way through the hospital to the ward. There was a new nurse on duty and Gabe stopped to ask how Jaunty was before she disturbed her.
‘She’s been asleep all afternoon.’ The woman smiled. ‘Are you going to sing to her again? I’ve loved listening to the CD you made.’
Gabe blushed. ‘I’ll see how she is and if Mrs Smith minds.’
‘No need to worry about Mrs Smith; she went home this afternoon. She did ask if she could have a copy of the CD.’
‘Oh.’ It felt mean to say no but she wasn’t ready for other people to listen to her and certainly not to take ‘her’ home. When studying, all she had thought about was music and making it to the top. Everyone was the same. Despite the cliché, they lived for the music and strived for success.
Gabe stopped at the end of the bed and sucked air into her lungs. The sight of Jaunty in the hospital still hurt. How much time did she have left? Would she wake again?
Sitting on the side of the bed, Gabe took Jaunty’s brush and tidied her up a bit. She began singing ‘Quando M’en Vo’ from Puccini’s La Bohème and Jaunty’s eyelids fluttered. Gabe stopped singing. ‘Hi.’
Jaunty blinked.
‘Do you want me to sing some more?’
Jaunty’s eyes fluttered again.
Gabe considered some arias until she chose Mozart’s ‘Ruhe sanft, mein holdes Leben’. Suddenly another voice joined her. She turned to find Hannah in the doorway and nodded for the girl to come into the room properly. Together they made their way to the end.
‘Where did you come from?’ Gabe asked.
‘I’m here doing community service.’
Gabe frowned.
‘It’s a school thing. You either do cadets, dogs or grannies.’ Hannah smiled. ‘I don’t do guns and we have a dog, so grannies have become my thing. I was visiting the ward next door when I heard you sing.’
‘Oh.’ Gabe was awed at Hannah’s energy.
‘Can we sing “The Evening Prayer” from Hansel and Gretel next?’ She pulled some crumpled sheets from her bag. ‘I’m working on it at the moment and it would really help to do it with you.’
Gabe watched Jaunty look at the girl before she closed her eyes with a hint of a smile on her mouth.
‘Let’s give it a go. I think I can remember it.’
Hannah began and then Gabe joined her. The smile on Jaunty’s face grew and, at the end, there was applause from the nurses at the station.
The ongoing parade of boats being taken to Gweek for the winter had begun to thin out. As each day passed the river became emptier. The tide was high and no one visited the creek except the birds. At the moment there was only a solitary egret watching the water from the opposite shore. Gabe turned away from the window and began the search for one of Jaunty’s favourite books. Today she wanted to read to Jaunty rather than sing. The singing was becoming too much. She was out of practice, but a soft voice in her head said this was practice. Gabe told the voice to shut up. The problem was the audience. Each time she opened her mouth the spectators grew. It was embarrassing. Gabe sighed. Hannah’s delight at yesterday’s impromptu performance was sweet. The girl had potential, if that was what she wanted to do. Gabe wasn’t sure. By the time she’d been Hannah’s age, seventeen, Gabe had known and she had worked hard to be ready for her audition for Chetham’s School of Music in Manchester for sixth form. Fortunately the work paid off and she received a place. Those years were fun and hard at the same time, because Manchester had been so far from home.
Gabe sat on the edge of Jaunty’s bed. She had no intention of continuing to do this. She was no longer a singer, but a composer, she reminded herself, then she bent down to find the book. On the shelf of the bedside table, Gabe scanned the titles looking for Gaudy Night by Dorothy L Sayers. Jaunty frequently reread that one and, sure enough, the book was there along with a few Agatha Christies. The corner of a sheet of paper stuck out from under the bed and she pulled it out. It was Jaunty’s writing.
At your christening, when you were six months old, I knew who Philip’s father had been. T
he answer to the question that had haunted me for years was in your eyes, but also in the impossibly long fingers that curled around my own. Sadness filled me as I held you, tiny as you were. You, like your father before you, would grow up with the love of only one parent. But in the end you had far less than he had. You had only me.
Gabe dropped the sheet of paper. What was this? Was she writing a novel or something? Her great-grandfather was Oliver Blythe and Blythe was Jaunty’s maiden name. She had kept it because of her painting, and because Gabe’s grandfather had died in the war before Philip had been born Jaunty had registered him under her name. Jaunty had explained, many years ago, that it simply made life easier rather than trying to juggle with two surnames.
Gabe picked the paper up and turned it over to see if anything else was written on it. As she did she glanced at her fingers, which were still long. They were the hands of a pianist and had been from an early age. Before her love of singing came the love of playing the piano, and for a while she had thought that was what she would pursue. She laughed. As of today these hands were the hands of a creator of a song for a theme park. A far cry from what she had once worked towards.
Gabe walked from the car down to the cabin and stood staring upriver in the mizzle. Water beaded on her sweater and she wondered if it would clear or turn into proper rain. The landscape in front of her was nothing more than indistinguishable shapes. She knew the view because it was etched in her mind, but if she didn’t she would wonder what she was seeing.
Jaunty had not responded at all today, not to the reading and not to the singing. Fortunately, this time Gabe hadn’t been dragged to other wards to perform as she was on previous days. The consultant was doing his rounds and she was excused, or that was how it felt.
The scent of cooking onions wound its way from the kitchen, tempting her in out of the wet. Her mouth watered and she stepped inside, expecting Fin, but he wasn’t around. In the sitting room there was a bottle of red wine on the table with two glasses. She poured one for herself and walked to the window, then stopped in her tracks when she saw Fin come out of Jaunty’s room.
