The Forget-Me-Not Sonata

by Santa Montefiore

  ‘What have you found?’ she asked in a trembling voice. He leant forward.

  ‘I have found that she still has it. She has always had it . . . and she always will.’

  Hilda caught her breath. ‘You can’t hold onto a ghost forever, Louis,’ she said, darting her black eyes at Nelly and noticing the disappointment rise up her throat in the form of a rash. ‘There’s no point hanging onto the past.’

  ‘But I don’t think you understand, Hilda,’ he said softly. ‘I don’t think you understand the power of dreams.’

  ‘I do,’ Audrey whispered and released his hand. She folded hers in her lap in case anyone should see that they burned. ‘I understand the power of dreams, Louis. You’ll always have her heart too. Always.’

  Rose dabbed her eyes with a hanky and smiled at Louis with gratitude. ‘That was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard anyone say. Isla was so lucky to have loved you. Thank you.’

  ‘So,’ said Edna, taking a very deep breath. ‘When are you going to hold her memorial service, Rose?’

  ‘This Saturday evening. I would like you, Louis, to read something.’

  ‘Of course,’ he replied.

  ‘And you, Audrey.’ Audrey nodded.

  ‘I want it to be a celebration of her life. I don’t want mourning. We’ve had enough mourning. It is time to thank God and remember the joy she brought us all.’

  It was evening when Rose and her sisters left. Cecil had returned from work to find them all talking around a cold teapot and an empty cake plate. Audrey had thanked them all for coming and accompanied them to the gate. Aunt Hilda hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye and Nelly was too close to tears to speak, but Rose had embraced her warmly and said, ‘Look after Louis, won’t you, dear. He’s very special to me.’

  But Aunt Edna had whispered under her breath, ‘Isla’s eyes were never deep or languid.’ Audrey had opened her mouth to explain but her aunt had patted her on the hand and smiled sadly. ‘Your secret is safe with me, dear girl, but be careful. You’re treading a path overshadowed with danger. It can only end in misery.’ Then she had rejoined her sisters and they had disappeared down the road.

  Cecil noticed at once that his wife had let her hair down and commented on it over dinner. ‘You look lovely, Audrey. It’s taken years off you.’ Audrey’s cheeks flushed and she thanked him. Then she fixed him with her gentle green eyes and he was reminded suddenly of the girl he had fallen in love with.

  ‘Sometimes one has to move on,’ she added softly, smiling at him. ‘I’m no longer in mourning.’ She meant for Louis of course, but Cecil interpreted it differently, thinking she meant for the twins. He noticed her radiant complexion and her light-heartedness and was filled with a fragile optimism. Perhaps his suspicions had been unfounded. He immediately felt guilty for having thought ill of his wife.

  ‘I’m going out to the countryside tomorrow,’ said Louis. ‘I met a man in Mexico who owns an estancia west of the city. I thought I would look him up.’

  ‘Jolly good idea,’ Cecil replied jovially, feeling empowered by Audrey’s good humour. Then he surprised himself. ‘Why don’t you go too, Audrey?’ he suggested. If she was distracted she wouldn’t dwell on the absence of her children.

  ‘Oh, I have enough to do here,’ she mumbled.

  ‘Don’t be silly. You’ve got nothing to do here. A day out on the pampa will do you good.’

  She looked at Louis.

  ‘Cecil’s right. You can’t sit at home all day and plan the children’s homecoming. You can gallop across the plains and eat a hearty steak instead.’ He laughed.

  ‘All right,’ she conceded. ‘Can’t you take the day off work, Cecil, and come too?’ she added to be kind and because she immediately felt guilty.

  Cecil smiled at her with gratitude and touched her hand. ‘No, my dear, I’m afraid not. But you go and have a good time with Louis.’

  ‘I’ll bring her back in one piece,’ said Louis but he glanced at Audrey and his eyes communicated so much more.

  Cecil patted his brother firmly on his shoulder. ‘I trust you will,’ he said, then lit a cigar. ‘If a man can’t trust his own brother, who can he trust, what?’

  Audrey was tired when she went to bed. The day had been both physically and emotionally draining. She remembered what Aunt Edna had said to her and wondered how she had worked it out. She hoped no one else had. Then she smiled as she recalled Louis’ heartfelt speech about love. She had wanted to thank him but they hadn’t had a moment alone. Once they would have communicated through little white scrolls of paper hidden between the bricks of the station house. Now they had to snatch their opportunities, but tomorrow they would have all day and she looked forward to it with such excitement that she doubted whether her mind would allow her body any sleep at all. When Cecil entered the room she looked at him in surprise. He stood there, deliberating whether to leave or stay. Her expression was unfathomable but her hair was still loose and falling like springs onto her shoulders. ‘I came to say goodnight,’ he said, hoping for a look of encouragement from her. But she sat in bed, her features staring back at him impassively. Then she lowered her eyes in resignation.

  ‘Cecil, I’m very tired. I think it’s better that we keep things the way they were before I left. At least, for tonight.’ She didn’t raise her eyes because she couldn’t bear to see his face flush with disappointment.

  ‘Of course. I want to sit up and read anyhow and I know how much the light bothers you.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Well, goodnight then.’ He made to leave.

  Audrey was suddenly consumed with guilt. ‘Cecil?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Don’t I get a kiss?’

  His delight was pitiful and she felt her heart lurch for him. He walked over and kissed her gently on the cheek.

  ‘Goodnight, Cecil.’

  ‘Goodnight, Audrey. Sweet dreams.’ She watched him leave. He had no idea how sweet her dreams really were.

  Audrey turned out the light and curled up under the sheets. A warm breeze rustled the curtains playfully, filling the room with the scents of the garden. She wondered whether Louis was lying awake thinking of her and longed to go to him. But she couldn’t risk being caught and besides, tomorrow they would have the whole day to spend as they pleased. She recalled their secret dances in Palermo, their stolen kisses beneath the cherry tree and then the heavy sense of loss when their dreams had come to nothing. She shuddered at the thought of losing him again and silently, in the quiet solitude of her room, she vowed that this time she would never let him go.

  Chapter 22

  The following morning, as a flamingo pink dawn faded into a clear blue sky, Louis and Audrey set off into the countryside. With the wind catching her loose curls and dragging them through the open window Audrey looked across at Louis and knew that he had been right about the power of dreams. She had dreamed of this and her dreams had come true. As if reading her thoughts he stretched across the gearbox and took her hand in his. They didn’t need to speak; they understood each other without the need to cheapen their feelings by translating them into syllables. They smiled contentedly and sat back, watching as the busy city dwindled into shabby clusters of houses and then to a long empty road that sliced through the plains, so vast and so flat that the sky was all around them and they were both filled with the intoxicating sense of freedom. Herds of mahogany-coloured ponies grazed in the long grasses, and cows roamed, lifting their heads to shake off the flies that had hatched in the warm spring weather. Audrey gazed about her and remembered her departure for England when she had looked out across the sea and seen her small world in relation to the vista of endless possibilities that stretched out before her. Looking about her now she felt once again the allure of the wide-open spaces – one could get lost in them and never come out. ‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked.

  ‘How big the world is and how small we are in it.’

  ‘And how insignificant. Sometimes one has to
stand on the peak of a mountain to remember that.’

  ‘Or gaze into an immense ocean.’ He grinned at her and she felt her stomach flutter with happiness.

  ‘It is in those views that dreams are made, my love,’ he said and she turned and looked at him with sad eyes.

  ‘I know that now. I wish I had known it before. But I couldn’t see beyond Hurlingham then.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters because you’re here with me now.’ And he told her again, ‘I love you, Audrey, and I always will.’

  La Magdalena sat like a lush oasis in the middle of the fertile pampa. Out of the flat plain grew an abundance of tall trees whose branches clamoured with the song of birds. The scent of eucalyptus wafted in through the window along with the smell of horses and leather. They drove up the long dusty drive lined with leafy paraísos. They were greeted by a pack of dogs and Audrey remembered Cicely’s dogs who were much fatter and sleeker than these skinny mongrels who now circled the car and announced their arrival by barking loudly.

  They drew up under the trees and a dark-skinned maid in a pink and white uniform bustled out of the house, shouting at the dogs to be quiet and be off, waving her arms at them impatiently. ‘Buen día, Señor Forrester, Señor Ribaldo is expecting you on the terrace,’ she said in Spanish, her mouth extending into a toothless smile.

  The house was a white and yellow colonial building with a roof of faded green tiles. It was old and needed a new coat of paint but the walls crawled with jasmine and hummed with bees and in spite of its shabby appearance it had immense charm and character. The maid showed them to the terrace where a wiry septuagenarian sat drinking coffee. He wore a pair of grey gaucho trousers pleated at the waist and buttoned up at the ankles and a wide leather belt of glittering silver coins. On his feet were threadbare black espadrilles and the skin that was exposed above them was brown and dry like the earth. When he saw Louis he pushed himself up from the chair and grinned in delight. ‘Louis, my friend! It is a pleasure to see you again.’ He pulled the young man into his embrace and patted him affectionately on the back. Then he looked at Audrey with twinkling brown eyes and raised his ashen eyebrows in admiration.

  ‘And this must be the woman you spoke to me about.’ Audrey blushed.

  ‘Gaitano, this is Audrey Forrester, my sister-in-law,’ Louis replied.

  Gaitano nodded and his old eyes shone with compassion. ‘Ah, I see. So beautiful and so beyond reach. It is always a pleasure to gaze on such beauty.’ He kissed Audrey and her cheeks stung for some time afterwards from his prickly stubble. ‘Come and join me for a drink. Then I will leave you two young people to enjoy my farm before joining me for lunch. My gaucho, El Chino, is preparing a delicious barbecue for you and Costanza has cooked dessert. I want today to be special. Life is a sequence of moments and this is one I would like you both to remember.

  ‘I’m sure Louis has told you that we met in Mexico,’ said Gaitano to Audrey, sitting down and picking up his coffee cup. ‘He is an unusual young man. Imagine teaching deaf children to play music? Who would dare attempt such a seemingly impossible task? Yet, deaf people hear with their hearts; there are plenty of men who hear with their ears yet are deaf to the music in their hearts.’

  Audrey looked at Louis and smiled with pride. ‘Louis is exceptional,’ she agreed. ‘He taught me to play the piano in a way I had never ventured before.’

  Gaitano nodded knowingly. ‘Yes, but you already felt the notes. You only had to learn to play them.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ She laughed softly. ‘Do you play, Gaitano?’

  The old man chuckled sadly. ‘I feel the notes but I am too afraid to play them. For if I were to start I would never stop. That is a great danger I face. I have seen too much in my life to restrain such emotion. This is a country of turbulence. I doubt the notes of my internal melody would be very pleasing. I will play in Heaven, if God grant me such paradise. But now, let us drink to Louis and his gift.’ He raised his coffee cup and Audrey raised her glass of juice. Then Gaitano left them alone and shuffled across the park to where El Chino tended the asado in the shade of a eucalyptus tree.

  ‘What a wonderful man,’ Audrey said as they walked towards a small cluster of shacks where a couple of young gauchos had saddled up ponies for them.

  ‘He’s deaf,’ said Louis.

  ‘Deaf?’ Audrey was astounded.

  ‘Very deaf. Can’t hear a word.’

  ‘You would never know,’ she exclaimed in admiration.

  ‘No, you wouldn’t. He’s been deaf for years, although he wasn’t born deaf. He came out to Mexico to meet me. A friend of his read an article about my work and sent it to him. We became instant friends.’

  ‘But you didn’t teach him to play?’

  ‘He said he was too old. I think he feared that by giving vent to his feelings he might break down. Music does that sometimes. You hold all your emotions inside, button them up, control them and then all it takes is a simple tune to get you going. Out they pour and there’s no stopping until they’ve been released in their entirety.’

  ‘Poor Gaitano. Does he have a wife?’

  ‘He had a wife and children, but his wife died and his children are now living all over the world. I think he was a hard man.’

  ‘So who looks after him?’

  ‘Costanza and El Chino, I imagine. He’s doing all right.’

  Audrey took Louis’ hand in hers. ‘You told him about us, didn’t you?’

  ‘I had to tell someone. I couldn’t tell anyone else. Gaitano always said that if I ever went back to the Argentine I was to come and visit him here. He recognized you the moment he saw you.’

  ‘You described me well.’

  ‘Your face was etched on my mind, it wasn’t difficult.’

  ‘Bouncing curls,’ she said and laughed.

  ‘No,’ he replied seriously, stopping and pulling her into his arms. ‘Long sensitive face, languid green eyes, soft translucent skin and a full and generous mouth. The mouth of a poet.’ He cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her lips. ‘But the most precious part of you is inside and no one can see that but me.’

  They mounted their ponies and made their way slowly across the plain. The midday sun was now high in the sky but it wasn’t too hot, just pleasantly warm. All around them the pampa lay vast and flat, interrupted only by the odd cluster of trees that marked a farm, the vital water tank that rose above them to catch the rain silhouetted against the sky. Contented vizcachas, a type of prairie hare, hid in the long grasses, camouflaged against the earth until the sound of approaching horses moved them on. Their carefree meandering indicated that life was good on the prairie.

  After a few miles they stopped beneath the rubbery branches of a large ombu tree and left their ponies to rest in the shade. ‘You know this is the only tree that really belongs on the pampa, all the others were imported and planted by settlers,’ said Louis, sitting down on the grass.

  ‘It’s a fantastic-looking tree, isn’t it?’ she said, sitting beside him.

  He drew her against him and kissed her temple. ‘This moment is such a gift, Audrey. To be here with you, in the middle of this immense open space. It’s like paradise. We can be ourselves and I can tell you I love you in a loud voice without worrying that I’m going to be overheard.’ She laughed as he shouted it out to the sky. ‘I love you, Audrey Forrester, I love you, I love you, I love you.’

  ‘Stop!’ she cried, wiping her eyes. ‘You are a silly old thing.’

  ‘But I’m your silly old thing.’

  ‘Yes, you are.’ Then she said in a serious voice, ‘This is the way it should have been. I feel closer to you than I do to anyone else and I haven’t seen you for years.’

  ‘I know, it’s as if we saw each other yesterday. That’s the definition of true friendship and, Audrey, I want you to be my lover. I would like you to be my wife, but above everything else you’re my dear friend.’

  ‘I only married Cecil because I thought I would never see you
again. I thought you had gone for ever, Louis. But I never stopped loving you.’

  ‘I know, my love. Don’t torment yourself,’ he said gently. ‘I was hurt and angry when I found out, but it was I who left you.’

  ‘Why did you leave?’ she asked, shaking her head, remembering how hurt she had been by his apparent selfishness.

  ‘Because with Isla’s death everything changed. You even looked different. Distant, impassive. The fight had gone. I knew duty would come before love. I knew you couldn’t go against your parents’ wishes. I knew it was over.’

  ‘But it didn’t have to be. Perhaps in time,’ she ventured quietly.

  ‘No, not even in time. The irony is that now they believe Isla loved me they wish I was their son-in-law.’

  ‘It makes me so angry. If I wasn’t married to Cecil . . .’

  ‘But you are.’

  ‘Perhaps I could . . .’

  ‘Audrey,’ he interrupted sternly. ‘I’m not going to ask anything of you now. I made that mistake before. Let’s just live for the moment like two leaves in the wind, going wherever it blows. Let’s not make any decisions or plans. I don’t want to lose you again.’

  ‘You won’t. Oh God, Louis, you won’t, I promise you.’

  He held her close and kissed her, transforming into reality dreams worn thin over the long years of waiting. His kiss was tender and passionate and sad and they both recalled their conversation beneath the stars in the grounds of the Hurlingham Club, when struck by the transient beauty of the moment they were both overcome with a bittersweet sense of melancholia. But his kiss swept away the past twelve years and healed the pain of their parting and the subsequent years of loneliness and regret that had aged them before their time.