by Liz Fenwick
A strange look crossed his face and then he smiled. ‘I didn’t hear you arrive.’
‘The weather must have dampened the sound of the car.’ She bit her lip. There was no possible reason that she could think of for him to be in Jaunty’s room. She shook her head. She was being silly: he might have been using the loo. She had no reason to be suspicious of him.
‘I’ve made a beef casserole,’ he said easily.
‘You’re spoiling me.’
‘You’re housing me – it’s the least I can do.’ He moved to the table and poured himself a glass of wine.
Gabe watched him, wondering what was going on in his mind. She still knew so little about him.
‘Max called. He’d heard about Hannah’s performance with you.’
‘She’s got great potential and she’s a good kid.’ She put her glass down and wandered into Jaunty’s bedroom. Fin followed.
‘Missing her?’
She nodded and ran her hand over the end of the bed, straightening the eiderdown. ‘I wish she could speak.’
‘You know she is listening.’
‘True, but . . .’ Gabe paused. ‘I just don’t think she’ll come through this. I don’t think she’ll be back here.’
‘You could ask if you could bring her home.’ He came and stood beside her. They were so close but not touching.
‘Do you think so?’ She looked up. It was a mistake; his glance was so intense.
‘Yes. My grandmother came home and died with the family around her.’ He put a finger under her chin. ‘She’d be happier at home and I’d help.’
‘Thank you, Fin. Tomorrow I’ll ask.’ She stretched up to press a kiss of thanks on his cheek but he turned his head and her mouth connected with his. Instead of jumping away she wanted to fall into him. He kissed her back, then leaned away enough to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. Gabe couldn’t move. Fear wrapped itself around her while Fin stroked her cheek with the back of his finger.
‘Shall we have dinner?’
She nodded. He understood. As he took a step away, she let air back into her lungs. She had just kissed a man and he was stepping away, but not far.
Max was drinking coffee with Fin when Gabe came out of the bedroom. She thought she’d heard voices when she stepped from the shower, but then dismissed it because it was only eight. But obviously it hadn’t been the radio.
‘Morning, sleepyhead.’ Max grinned.
‘Hardly. I was up at six making used cars sound sexy and exciting.’ Gabe eyed the cafetière. There wasn’t enough in it to squeeze another cup out. Maybe she would have tea, but she had had that at six. ‘What brings you here so early?’
‘A request from Hannah.’
Gabe raised an eyebrow.
‘She’s singing at a christening in Manaccan this week and yours truly has been roped in to play the organ. She was wondering if you would sing “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” with her.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Gabe frowned. ‘I thought a christening consisted of a few hymns and a quick exit before the little tyke uses its lungs to deafen everyone?’
‘She gave me this note for you.’
Gabe opened it and read:
Dear Gabe,
I know you don’t like singing in front of people. I can’t understand why when you have the best voice ever. But you see I’m scared stiff to sing this on my own. This is the christening for my stepmum’s baby – long story. Here’s the short version: she was married to my dad but he died and she remarried – bit awkward really but it’s cool cause Mark, her new husband, is great – and I really want to make it special for her and Mark and baby Toby. You see, they are my family though I’m kinda on the outside but I am the godmother. And I want to give this to them all from me. Well, at least I thought it was a good idea until now. I don’t want to blow it and I know that after singing with you I wouldn’t, or if I did you could carry it off.
Please, please, please think about it.
Love,
Hannah x
Gabe took a big breath. What could she say to an appeal like that? There was so much more unsaid than had been said.
‘It’s a big deal for her.’ Max looked so solemn that Gabe nearly laughed.
‘I can tell.’ She turned from the men and walked out to the terrace. A cold wind blew from the north and Gabe wrapped her arms tightly about herself. The sun was high enough that the clear sky was becoming blue, adding its tint to the water, and the low rays of sunlight picked out the autumn colours on the oaks of Groyne Point. It would be a beautiful day. Gabe sighed. This was important for Hannah – and so many people had helped Gabe on her way. She could do this, couldn’t she? After all, she had kissed a man last night, and that was something she had thought she would never do again.
She took a deep breath and went back inside. ‘I’ll do it.’
Fin placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side while Max said, ‘Hannah will be over the moon. I’ll tell her later today when I’m in Truro working with the chorus.’ He slid a piece of paper across the counter. ‘And I’ve brought you some changes I’ve made.’ Gabe noticed his Adam’s apple move up and down. ‘If you have time to look through it . . . ?’
Gabe looked at the score on the table and smiled slightly. It was another case of reaching out and helping someone else.
Fin glanced at his watch. ‘We need to make a move if you are to be there at the start of visiting hours.’
‘True, but Fin you don’t need to come. I can face this one on my own.’
He touched her arm. ‘You just want me to stay behind to cement in the loose stones on the steps.’ He smiled.
Gabe laughed. ‘Absolutely.’
‘It’s a good day for it.’ Max stood. ‘I’m off. I’ll touch base with you later.’
Fin turned to her. ‘Are you sure you don’t need my support at the hospital?’
‘Thanks, but no.’ She smiled at him. This she could do alone. She needed to ask Jaunty what she wanted to do before she set the wheels in motion for her to return home – because Gabe knew in her heart that when Jaunty came home to Bosworgy that it would be the end.
Sixteen
Gabe sang the whole way in the car to Manaccan church. She didn’t want to do this, but reminded herself again of all the people who had helped her over the years. Especially Georgina Piper, the soprano who had been coaching her when Gabe had pulled out of the opera world. Gabe could still see the sadness in Georgina’s eyes and her last words to Gabe had been, ‘I understand, but you will regret this and I am devastated.’
Gabe swallowed and parked the car. Sun broke through the clouds as she walked up to the church. The last time she had been here was the previous Christmas for midnight mass. She and Jaunty had slipped in late and exited early so Jaunty wouldn’t be forced into chatting. Gabe hadn’t understood, but had always gone along with Jaunty’s eccentricities.
Sounds of the organ greeted her as she climbed the steps to the graveyard that surrounded the church. Poor Hannah was terrified, and that Gabe could understand. Pulling open the heavy church door, she reminded herself that she was only a prop. This was Hannah’s chance to shine.
Gabe glanced at the altar and was nearly thrown off her feet by Hannah running to her and wrapping her in a bear hug.
‘Hi.’
‘Oh, thank you for coming.’ Hannah’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I couldn’t do this without you, Gabe.’
‘Nonsense. You could, but I’m here, so let’s get on with it.’ And she led them to the side chapel where Max was playing the organ.
‘You’re here. Excellent.’ He smiled. ‘Now we can settle down. I’ve never known Hannah so twitchy. Let’s run through this.’ Max played the opening notes of ‘Morning Has Broken’. Hannah looked at Gabe and she nodded. They sang together, but Gabe knew that it w
ould sound far better with Hannah alone. Gabe’s voice was too big for it. So without telling Hannah she dropped out on the last chorus. Max looked at her and winked.
‘Why did you do that?’ Hannah asked, glaring, when she finished.
‘Your voice is perfect for it, mine is not – and you know it.’
Hannah frowned and Gabe took her hand. ‘It will be fine, I promise you.’
‘But you will sing “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring”?’
‘Yes.’
‘Let’s go through it now before we run out of time.’ Max began before either of them could say a word. Hannah’s voice grew in confidence as they progressed and Max went through it one more time before swiftly reviewing the other two hymns for the service.
Pulling into Trevenen, Gabe shook her head. She had made it through by pretending she was just singing to Jaunty not to a congregation. Her stomach was still in knots though and she really didn’t belong at this gathering but Maddie Triggs, Hannah’s stepmother, wouldn’t take no for an answer. She had to come back to the house and wet the baby’s head because she couldn’t thank Gabe enough for helping Hannah.
Gabe parked so that she could make a quick exit. Other cars were filling in around her and she had recognised many of the people in the church but hadn’t seen most of them since she’d been a teenager.
‘So pleased to see you.’ Tamsin Polcrebar came up to her and handed her a tray from her car. ‘So lovely, you and Hannah singing. I’d forgotten about your wonderful voice.’
‘Um, thank you.’ Gabe followed Tamsin, whom she remembered vaguely. Gabe had often wondered about this house but had never been inside.
‘Let’s put this in the dining room and go and get a drink.’ Tamsin turned to her. ‘You remember everyone, don’t you?’
Gabe nodded and thought it best to say no more. Instead she stared at the beautiful home, with whitewashed walls filled with exuberant paintings.
‘Everyone will be in the sitting room.’ Tamsin took her by the hand and led her down the slate-flagged hallway to the crowd.
‘Gabriella, I’m so pleased you could join us. Thank you so much for singing with Hannah.’ Mark Triggs handed her a glass of champagne and Gabe went tongue-tied. She suddenly remembered she’d had the biggest schoolgirl crush on him when she was twelve. Now she just smiled and moved into the room looking for Max or Hannah. Gabe took a sip of the champagne and suddenly Mrs Bates was at her elbow.
‘Such a beautiful service and your singing was just lovely.’
‘Thank you.’ Gabe looked down. ‘But Hannah and Toby were the stars.’
‘How’s dear Jaunty?’
‘Improving.’
‘Pleased to hear it – and how’s the stranger?’ Mrs Bates gave her a sideways glance.
Gabe smiled. She hadn’t thought of him as a stranger in a while. ‘Fin is well.’
Toby, who had been silent through the whole service, broke into an ear-splitting howl. Hannah quickly handed him to Maddie and came up to Gabe.
‘He’s gorgeous, really, but when he screams I have no idea what to do.’
‘When you have your own you’ll learn quick enough.’ Mrs Bates patted Hannah on the arm and wandered away.
‘Thanks again.’ Hannah bit her lip.
‘You were great.’
‘Nah, you were great, but I wasn’t too bad.’ Hannah grabbed a glass of champagne from Mark. ‘You were right about “Morning Has Broken”.’
Gabe smiled.
Tamsin came around with a tray of food. ‘Hannah, do you want to grab another plate and pass it round?’
‘Sure.’ Hannah rolled her eyes when Tamsin couldn’t see her and took Gabe’s hand, dragging her through to the kitchen.
‘I really wanted to say thank you again.’ Hannah took a swig of champagne and Gabe flinched, thinking it was a waste of a good wine.
‘Well, it was important to you.’
‘Boy, was it ever! But ’nuff about me. Tell me about the hunk at your place.’
Gabe opened her mouth and shut it. There wasn’t much she could say.
‘Is he your boyfriend?’
‘No.’
‘Shame.’ Hannah filled her glass from an open bottle and looked over her shoulder. ‘I’d work on that if I were you.’
It was over a week before the medical team felt it was safe for Jaunty to come home. The doctor had looked at Gabe with knowing eyes and she’d had to turn away. He wanted her to understand that taking Jaunty home meant the end, if not immediately, then soon. It was clear to everyone that in the ten days since the stroke Jaunty had diminished. She still couldn’t speak, but was awake more of the time and she communicated with small squeezes of the hand and blinking. Truthfully, the whole thing was completely overwhelming, and Gabe felt totally unprepared for what was coming in terms of looking after her grandmother and beyond.
Now she was in the back seat of the car, clutching Jaunty’s hand with one of her own, and the instructions in the other, as Fin drove carefully back to Bosworgy and Jaunty swayed beside her with each turn and roundabout. If Gabe sneezed, Jaunty would fall over. Her grandmother’s eyes were overlarge in her gaunt face and though she constantly looked as if she wanted to speak, that ability had been taken from her. However, she could walk with a walker and that was a blessing. Without being able to do that Gabe didn’t think they would have let her come home. The only option then would have been a hospice and that sounded so final. But who was Gabe fooling? This, too, was final.
They bounced through the ruts in the lanes and Gabe watched her grandmother grimace, but then, as the pain passed, she smiled and her head swung from side to side as if she was seeing everything on the journey for the first time. What must it have been like when Jaunty bought Bosworgy, back in 1945? Probably not much different from now, with the exception of utilities and maybe fewer houses on the other side of the river.
Fin parked the car and came around and opened Jaunty’s door. He helped her to stand, then scooped her up in his arms while Gabe raced ahead to open the door, thankful that Fin had sorted the loose steps.
Earlier in the week she had found some beautifully faded hydrangeas with their flower heads still intact, and she’d brought them into the cabin to brighten it up. As a bonus, the sun was shining today, the river sparkled, and nothing else was needed. Jaunty was back.
Jaunty’s armchair sat next to the French window so that she had the best view, and on the table beside it were her books and a sketchpad. Gabe put the kettle on while Fin settled Jaunty then went out to retrieve the walker from the car. Her grandmother frowned when she saw him carry it in. Gabe knew what Jaunty was thinking, but without the walker Jaunty wasn’t stable enough. It was just one of the things Jaunty would have to learn to live with in order to be here at home.
Although the bed was made and the studio tidy, Gabe felt Fin’s presence even though she knew he was in the cabin with Jaunty. It must be his scent, the fragrance of fresh soap and toothpaste, that hung in the air. Gabe looked at Max’s revised score. Something still wasn’t right. She played it from start to finish and then suddenly she knew. She picked up the pencil and began making notes on the score. Max was brilliant but he wasn’t using the musical motifs of the sea shanty. She began to weave it through and then played it again. Yes, the music stirred the feelings of the listener more. This was music that all audiences were familiar with, even if they didn’t know it. It hit the emotional everyman.
She sat back from the piano, satisfied, then her shoulders drooped. How would Max feel about her tampering with his work? He had asked, but she had never shared her thoughts on adding birdsong either. She was used to people tinkering with her commercial compositions and, as a singer, there had always been constant appraisal and adjustment of her technique, but she had never shared her serious compositions with anyone. What would she do if someone told her they weren�
�t right, that they could be better, stronger? She might be OK with it, but what if the person said this was the way to do it? She didn’t know and she didn’t know Max well enough to guess his reaction.
Picking up the music and her notes, she walked back to the cabin. The sunlight was still low and its rays caught the dew on the branches. The mist on the river was disappearing and it promised to be a warm day. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen.
The smell of coffee and bacon lingered in the air as she walked through the kitchen. Everything was tidy, but the aroma of coffee was still fresh. Gabe followed the scent and found Fin and Jaunty outside on the terrace. It was cool but sunny and he had wrapped a blanket around Jaunty’s shoulders. Jaunty beamed when she saw Gabe.
‘I’ve brought a cup out for you.’ Fin smiled at her.
‘Thanks.’ Gabe perched on the side of the table, closed her eyes and turned her face up to the sun. Things were good. Jaunty was home and somehow she would find a way to talk to Max about the score. He didn’t seem the temperamental type.
Jaunty held on to the walker and tried to pull open the desk drawer. The recent damp weather had caused it to stick and she needed two hands, which she didn’t have. Her mouth moved, but the swear word she was saying didn’t emerge. She was trapped in her own body, forced to communicate in a barely legible scrawl and with her hands and eyelids. Why hadn’t she just died? But she knew she had clung to life because her story hadn’t been finished. She needed to find everything she’d written because she didn’t remember where she had left off and what she hadn’t said. So many things were drifting away, leaving her alone. She had left it all too late.
‘Can I help?’ Fin walked through the door and Jaunty nodded. She tugged at the drawer and then backed up as well as she could with the walker. Understanding immediately, he took hold of the handle and, with one pull, released it. She hobbled over to the bed and gathered some of the other papers and notebooks, then she pointed at the notebook in the drawer and Fin brought it and everything else over to her at her desk. She could see the questions in his eyes but couldn’t respond. Instead she flipped through the papers and tried to order them.
