The Forget-Me-Not Sonata

by Santa Montefiore

  ‘Oh, he most certainly is,’ Diana gushed, remembering his gentle manner the day he had helped her into her car. ‘Such a gentleman. He possesses true nobility.’

  ‘Unfortunately, girls can be very stupid,’ said Charlo loftily, ‘they don’t always know what’s best for them. Some poor fool will fall for Louis’ vague charm.’

  ‘Fine for a flirt but not for life,’ Cynthia added. ‘One wants a man who’s reliable and solid, like an oak tree. My Ernie was an oak tree if ever there was one.’

  ‘An oak tree!’ Charlo exclaimed. ‘More like a twig. After you’d whipped him into shape there was precious little left of the man.’

  ‘Really, Charlo, sometimes you go too far,’ Diana chided.

  ‘Don’t bother getting into the ring, Diana,’ said Cynthia with a smile, ‘I’m more than capable of defending myself and Ernie, God rest his soul. Charlo, not one of your three husbands was an oak tree.’

  ‘Well, you’re right about that,’ she agreed, dipping her brush into the paint and resuming her work. ‘Perhaps I’ll have better luck with the fourth,’ she added provocatively.

  Cynthia raised her eyebrows. ‘Ah,’ she sighed, unable to resist the bait. ‘Colonel Blythe is more of an oak tree. Fourth time lucky, perhaps.’ Charlo’s pale face smarted with embarrassment beneath her sunhat.

  ‘Colonel Blythe?’ exclaimed Diana and Phyllida in unison, rising to peer over the top of their easels as quickly as their old legs could lift them.

  Cynthia was triumphant. ‘How many times has he asked you to marry him?’ she demanded. ‘Come on!’ Charlo stiffened on her stool and lifted her chin in an effort to maintain her composure. She had no intention of marrying the colonel. He only asked her for sport. He enjoyed the game, that was all.

  ‘Twice,’ she replied nonchalantly. Phyllida and Diana stared at each other in amazement.

  ‘And what did you tell him?’ Cynthia continued.

  ‘Oh, really, this is all very childish,’ Charlo protested, putting down her brush and standing up.

  ‘Well, Charlo, what did you tell him?’ Diana insisted, then turned to Cynthia, ‘What did she tell him?’

  ‘I told him,’ said Charlo, articulating her words with emphasis, ‘that I have a nasty habit of burying my husbands. I don’t think he’ll ask me again.’

  ‘Poor Colonel Blythe,’ Phyllida sighed, sitting down again. ‘What has an old man like him got to look forward to?’

  Charlo rolled her eyes and strode into the house.

  Audrey had spent those six weeks by the sea in a wistful, romantic vapour, placing herself among the whimsical heroines of the novels she read. She had lain on the sand, silently playing out scenes in her imagination where Louis loved her, acting out each moment of their courtship in exhaustive detail until her desires had penetrated her dreams and she had longed to stay in bed in the mornings to make them last. No one had noticed the faraway look in her eyes because she had always been distracted, ever since she was a child. Her mother put it down to the romantic novels she consumed while Aunt Hilda complained that she shouldn’t read such rubbish for it was turning her mind into cotton wool. ‘Love never did anything for anyone,’ she commented sourly. ‘Look at Romeo and Juliet.’

  Audrey had returned to Hurlingham full of anticipation. Excited and nervous at the prospect of seeing Louis again she was thrilled to be back in the same city as he, breathing the same air. But Audrey was to be bitterly disappointed. When she heard from her mother and Aunt Edna that Louis was fast disgracing himself at the Club she hid her mortification behind a determined smile then cried later when she was alone in the garden. She sat on her mother’s rose bench and sobbed with frustration. Her dreams were felled before they had even had time to grow. A romance with Louis was impossible and there was precious little she could do about it. The first she heard of her mother’s hopes for her and Cecil was when she overheard her talking with her sisters beneath the leafy vine which now reminded her of Louis like everything else in the garden.

  ‘But he’s only just arrived,’ Rose protested, shaking her head and frowning. ‘I believe everyone deserves a chance. After all, appearances can be deceptive.’

  ‘Sometimes appearances are a true reflection of the person’s character,’ Aunt Hilda insisted, pursing her thin lips together in disapproval. ‘In Louis’s case he’s as sloppy as those funny trousers he wears. You can imagine what the Crocodiles are saying.’

  With agitated fingers Aunt Edna tapped the string of round amber beads that dripped over her bosom like shiny pebbles and snorted in irritation. ‘Those Crocodiles are so malicious,’ she declared. ‘It’s because he didn’t fight in the war. I’m sure he had good reason.’

  ‘Does he look like he has a legitimate reason? A limp, one hand?’ Aunt Hilda interjected briskly. ‘No excuse.’

  ‘Oh dear, poor Cecil, he must worry terribly about his wayward brother,’ said Rose.

  ‘Dear Cecil,’ Aunt Edna sighed with a smile. ‘I noticed how taken he was with Audrey the night they came to dinner.’

  ‘So did I,’ Rose agreed meekly, unable to contain her pride that suddenly flowered across her cheeks. ‘I can’t help but hope,’ she added, shrugging her shoulders anxiously.

  Aunt Edna fanned herself with the red gypsy fan that Harry had bought her in La Boca during those heady, newly wed days. ‘Me too. What a good match he would make,’ she gushed. ‘How fortunate he has come to live in Hurlingham.’

  ‘Isn’t he a bit old for Audrey?’ said Hilda tightly, her voice thin with resentment for Cecil hadn’t yet met her daughters.

  ‘Oh, Hilda, one can’t dwell on details,’ Aunt Edna snapped impatiently. Aunt Hilda never missed an opportunity to dampen everyone else’s pleasure out of bitterness at the lack of pleasure in her own life.

  Aunt Hilda stiffened. ‘But he’s twelve years her senior,’ she protested. ‘Audrey’s far too young to be thinking of marriage. Dear me, my Nelly is already twenty-five and marriage is very far from her mind.’

  ‘Sour grapes, Hilda,’ Aunt Edna sniffed tactlessly. ‘I do love Nelly but she isn’t the most enchanting of your daughters and she doesn’t help herself. Perhaps if she managed the odd smile occasionally she might encourage the young men to court her.’ Hilda had to admit that for once Edna was right. Nelly was eye-wateringly plain.

  ‘As if age has ever made a difference in the affairs of the heart,’ said Rose. ‘Anyhow, I did notice the beginning of an affection between them. I just pray it grows into something stronger. I’ve invited both boys to Audrey’s party on Saturday,’ she added. ‘Cecil, because he’s an asset anywhere, Louis out of generosity. One must be kind.’

  ‘You’re a good person, Rose,’ Aunt Edna declared. But Aunt Hilda was unable to compliment her sister because her jealousy had formed a cork at the top of her throat and the words, as much as they bubbled up, were unable to advance higher.

  Audrey retreated into the house, blinking away her tears. She didn’t want a party any more. She didn’t want to see Louis ever again. She wished she had never laid eyes on him. But as her father always said, ‘everything comes to pass’ and in spite of her resistance Saturday dawned, bringing with it the dreadful anticipation of seeing the Forrester brothers.

  ‘What’s the matter with you, Audrey?’ Isla asked over breakfast. ‘It’s your party tonight, you should be smiling from ear to ear. Just think of all that attention. I’m going to dance until sunrise!’

  ‘Nothing’s the matter,’ she replied flatly. ‘I just don’t feel like it.’

  ‘You will by this evening. You’ve just got out on the wrong side of the bed.’ Then she narrowed her green eyes at her sister and grinned knowingly.

  ‘You’re in love, aren’t you?’ she said. Audrey nearly dropped her cup of coffee.

  ‘Of course I’m not in love,’ she protested, putting the cup down so as not to expose her trembling hands.

  ‘Yes, you are,’ Isla laughed. ‘I can tell. You’ve been mooning around all summer. Eve
r since you met Cecil Forrester.’ Audrey’s shoulders dropped with relief and she sat back in her chair.

  ‘Is it that obvious?’ she heard herself responding.

  ‘I’m afraid it is. But only to me, because I know you so well.’

  ‘You won’t tell, will you?’

  ‘Of course not. I promise. Why, if you’re in love with Cecil, are you dreading your party?’ Audrey played for time by bending down and pretending to pick up her fallen napkin. Isla had a point; if she was meant to be in love there was little logic to her ill humour.

  ‘Because my feelings aren’t reciprocated,’ she replied carefully, amazed by her own capacity to lie.

  Isla sighed melodramatically. ‘You are so unaware of your own appeal, Audrey,’ she exclaimed. ‘For goodness’ sake, all the boys fall in love with you and Cecil more than anyone. He made it very obvious that night at dinner.’

  ‘But it’s been weeks, he’s probably forgotten all about me.’

  ‘I doubt it. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. I bet he’s longing to see you,’ said Isla confidently. ‘He’s very correct. Not like his brother,’ she added, her voice heavy with admiration. ‘You’ll see him today at the Club for sure. Let’s go early, play some tennis and swim. Daddy’s taken the boys riding and Mummy’s got golf with Aunt Edna. We can spend the whole day there. Gosh, isn’t it nice to be back!’

  ‘Don’t you think I should just wait until my party?’ she began weakly.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ Isla retorted. ‘Hurry up and finish breakfast then we can go immediately.’

  They set off on their bicycles down to the Hurlingham Club. The streets resounded with barking dogs, squeaking children and the shrill cries of the maids as they chatted to one another in Spanish across the garden fences. Audrey confided to her sister about her infatuation and the torment she was suffering because of it. To her surprise it was a relief to be able to speak openly of her feelings, in spite of the fact that they were both talking about two entirely different men. As they approached the gates Audrey’s heart accelerated and she suddenly felt hot and uncomfortable. ‘Calm down, Audrey,’ said Isla in amusement, jumping off her bicycle and leaning it up against the wall. ‘Gosh, you have been badly hit, haven’t you!’ she exclaimed, taking her sister by the hand. ‘Perhaps we should swim first and then play tennis. That way you can cool off a bit first.’ Audrey agreed and they made their way straight to the swimming pool. It was early and the grounds appeared deserted, drenched in the dazzling light of morning. A few people could be seen in the distance walking their dogs or riding up the avenue of tall plane trees but otherwise they were quite alone, able to enjoy a swim undisturbed.

  All the while Audrey glided up and down the pool she had her eyes fixed on the park and her heart suspended in her chest, anticipating Louis’ appearance at any moment, longing for it and dreading it in a conflicting mixture of emotions. Each time someone appeared up the steps her stomach lurched with expectation, only to be disappointed, until Isla suggested they play tennis before the heat became too much, thus dragging her away from her anxious vigil.

  But Audrey was barely able to concentrate on her tennis game either. Isla was much the superior player and began to get irritated when Audrey missed the ball or hit it into the net out of sheer inattentiveness. Audrey wished she had stayed at home to read her novel under the bird tree and dream. Suddenly dreaming seemed so much more pleasant than reality. Finally, in exasperation, Isla insisted they go to find Cecil at the clubhouse. ‘No, we mustn’t!’ Audrey exclaimed in horror. But Isla was unwavering. Nothing would give her more pleasure than hunting him down before slaying him with one of cupid’s arrows.

  ‘We’ll go and get a drink, have a look around, I’ll be subtle,’ she insisted. But Isla and Audrey had very different interpretations of the word ‘subtle’. Isla had never once kept any of Audrey’s secrets, not out of malice, but out of an exuberant inability to keep anything to herself. Now Audrey faced the possibility of being thoroughly humiliated in front of Cecil. She wished she had denied the whole thing. But Isla was enraptured by the state of her sister’s heart and was determined to be the one to sort it out. Audrey knew very well that it wasn’t the romance that seduced Isla but the excitement of the challenge. Audrey had now provided her with a most enthralling mission.

  She reluctantly followed her sister’s buoyant steps towards the clubhouse, hoping both brothers had gone away for the day, or better still, returned to England on the ship they had come out on. But to her acute embarrassment she heard a familiar voice, followed by Isla’s shrieks of excitement. ‘Cecil!’ she exclaimed. ‘How lovely to see you again.’ Audrey raised her eyes to encounter the diffident smile of Cecil Forrester who, on seeing the young woman whose face had dominated his thoughts and dreams for almost two months, now flushed with joy. He felt awkward in her company and struggled to compose himself. Audrey couldn’t help but cast a quick glance over his shoulder to see whether he was accompanied by his brother. He was not.

  ‘Hello, Audrey,’ he said, nodding formally. ‘You’ve been playing tennis, I see.’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Not very well, I’m afraid. We were just coming in for a drink.’

  ‘Why don’t you join us?’ Isla trilled happily. Cecil’s face revealed his enthusiasm in a dazzling smile and Audrey found it impossible to be angry with Isla or irritated by him. His enthusiasm was very flattering.

  The three sat at a small round table in the tiled corridor, drinking lemonade and Audrey tried her utmost to be spirited when all she wanted to do was lie on one of the deckchairs in the shade and think of Louis. While she answered Cecil’s questions and fielded Isla’s unsubtle comments she secretly contemplated Louis in the quiet halls of her imagination. She recalled the sudden fire in his eyes when he had talked about the tango, when his body had moved to his humming as if he had been powerless to stop it, when he had told her not to be afraid to dream. She smiled outwardly so that Cecil believed her to be smiling at him and not at his unseen rival. Isla was triumphant. They were clearly enjoying each other’s company. But neither Isla nor her sister realized that Cecil’s heart was also in turmoil. For weeks he had been agonizing over whether to ask her out for dinner, just the two of them. After all, she was the boss’s daughter and he had only just arrived in Buenos Aires. He knew it wasn’t appropriate to jump in so quickly. He had to earn Henry Garnet’s respect before declaring his feelings. He only hoped that no one else would win her heart before he had time to try.

  After about an hour the heat had intensified and Isla had grown restless. Her sister’s infatuation with Cecil no longer entertained her for the challenge had been met and won. She had brought them both together, made suggestive comments and encouraged their friendship – the rest was up to them. Then a strange melody wafted in from the hall, a doleful tune in a minor key and Audrey recognized it at once because it was Louis’ melancholic spirit translated into music. Her cheeks prickled with yearning as she realized suddenly that it was also a reflection of her own rootless spirit striking a chord within her. Unable to remain a moment longer at the table she muttered a hasty apology and fled, following the hypnotic sound of the piano.

  When Audrey stood beside the piano, watching Louis’ long fingers gliding across the keys, she noticed that he wasn’t reading a score but inventing the music as he went along. His eyes were closed and he was following his feelings as if he were riding a wave on the sea, aware of her presence without needing to see her. His fingers trembled slightly and his mouth curled into a small smile. Then little by little as his spirit rose, the minor chords were transformed into major ones until his melody was surprisingly happy and full of hope.

  After a while Louis opened his eyes. He rested them on the blushing young woman who swayed to his music without even realizing. Then his mouth extended into a wide smile and Audrey found herself smiling too because Louis had the artlessness of a child, jumping from melancholy to joy in a single moment. Audrey found such sponta
neity disarming and her spirits lifted with his.

  ‘Come and play with me,’ he said, making room for her on the stool.

  ‘No, really, you play so well,’ she protested. ‘I can’t improvise.’

  ‘Of course you can. Come, I’ll show you.’

  Audrey sat down beside him and immediately felt the warmth of his body against hers, burning through her clothes. She rested her nervous fingers over the keys and waited for his instruction.

  ‘These are the notes we’re going to use, G minor,’ he said, playing a chord. Audrey copied him and played the G minor scale. ‘There, that’s not too hard, is it?’

  ‘I spent years learning the scales.’

  ‘You play them beautifully. Now, I’m going to invent a tune for you, “Audrey’s Sonata”, and once you’ve familiarized yourself with the melody I want you to close your eyes and slowly let your feelings move your fingers. Don’t worry if you make mistakes, it doesn’t matter. Soon your fingers will be an extension of your heart and you won’t think in terms of notes but feelings. You’ll feel the need to express them. Now close your eyes.’

  Audrey obeyed and listened as he began to play slowly, a sad, engaging tune that stirred her restless soul. Then he spoke over the music in a soft, hypnotic voice, drawing her away from the hall in the Hurlingham Club, to a faraway place where they were alone beneath a dark sky in an enchanted valley. Tentatively her fingers began to touch the keys. Falteringly at first, a note here a note there until they lengthened into phrases that threaded into his and united with them; a doleful sonata of dreams.

  As the strangely alluring tune resounded through the hall the old colonel, who was sitting in his usual leather chair reading the Illustrated London News, put down his paper and listened. He sat as if petrified while the music melted the frost that old age had sketched upon his heart and felt a thawing in his joints so that when he finally pushed himself up he did so with the agility of a much younger man. He snorted in puzzlement and shook his head as the echo of that melody still rang in his ears. When he looked around the world looked softer. He blinked, then blinked again. It remained soft as if an invisible hand had buffed away the sharp edges. ‘Curious,’ he mumbled to himself. ‘Most curious.’