The Forget-Me-Not Sonata

by Santa Montefiore

  They galloped back to La Magdalena, their laughter carried on the wind so that birds seeking shade among the leaves of the tall plane trees flapped their wings and took to the sky and the ostriches scattered like feathers over the grassy plain. They relished the feeling of freedom as their ponies sped across the pampa and without thinking of tomorrow or dwelling on the regrets of yesterday they smiled without inhibition and shouted excitedly into the air.

  Lunch was beneath the shade of a threadbare parasol on the terrace, looking out over the uninterrupted plains. El Chino displayed the barbecue that smouldered beneath the eucalyptus tree and his small brown eyes shone with pride. He had killed the cow that morning and the meat was tender and fresh, lying in neat rows on the grill. He bent over to tend to it and Audrey noticed the ornate knife tucked into his wide silver-coined belt and thought how wonderfully flamboyant the gauchos were. Gaitano handed her a round wooden plate and she chose a large slice of tender meat. ‘There’s enough food here for an army,’ she said as El Chino placed the piece on her plate accompanied by a thick chunk of toasted bread.

  ‘It’ll feed the gauchos and Costanza,’ Gaitano replied. ‘But I’m hoping you’ll come back for seconds. We’re very proud of our herds.’

  ‘Do you spend all your time out here?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t go to the city these days. I’m too old and I have too many memories that I would like to forget. It’s quiet here and peaceful. Buenos Aires is fraught and I’m no longer a political animal. I gave that up long ago, thank the Lord. Politics brings nothing but unhappiness. Not only in this country. I opt for a simple life nowadays and I’m happy this way. Come and sit down and enjoy your food.’

  Audrey liked Gaitano. She was able to talk about herself knowing that he knew nothing about the place she came from and that everything she said would remain within the boundaries of the estancia. He was fully aware that he was harbouring two illicit lovers and yet he never alluded to their affair other than to gaze upon them with empathy as if living love through them, because he had never loved like that, not even in his youth. She noticed that if he wasn’t watching her lips he missed what she said, so she took care to wait until he had focused his penetrating old eyes on her face before speaking and then she would see his expression soften and his head tilt to one side and he would give her his full attention, his lips curling at the corners with affection. It was a liberation to sit with Louis and enjoy his little gestures of devotion in the open without shame. The way he would gently touch her hand, or sweep back the long springs of hair that would occasionally fall forward and cover her face. He did it naturally, seemingly without thinking, yet she knew he was just as conscious of every moment of contact as she was, because his hands burned her skin and caused it to prickle with excitement.

  After lunch Gaitano disappeared inside for a siesta. Audrey suddenly looked embarrassed, as if she didn’t know what to do with her hands or her eyes. The afternoon lay before them, long empty hours, and they were now alone. Louis sensed her unease and understood. He threaded his fingers through hers. ‘Let’s go and swim, lie by the pool and sleep in the sunshine. We have the whole day and I don’t want you to waste a moment of it by feeling awkward.’ Audrey nodded, grateful that she didn’t have to explain that she would feel uncomfortable taking their relationship any further in someone else’s house, however understanding he was. She wanted him to make love to her. But not here. Once more she searched his eyes, silently asking him how he came to understand her so well, but they just twinkled back at her, hiding their troubled depths behind a sheen of happiness.

  They lay entwined on the grass beside the pool that was green with algae and crumbling around the edges where once there had been neatly laid paving stones. Half overshadowed by trees and shrubs it lay neglected and forgotten for Gaitano was now too old to want to use it and only the children of the gauchos came there to play when the heat became too much. A large gardenia bush unfolded its petals to the sun and filled the air with its rich perfume while bees hummed quietly among the flowers in search of pollen to work into honey which El Chino’s son, Gonzalo, collected. Audrey and Louis swam in the murky water to cool off and then chatted softly until they fell asleep in the sunshine. Their sleep was gentle and contented and when they awoke to find each other and the lengthening evening shadows they were once more filled with melancholia and the realization that the day was now draining away and they would have to return home. As much as they tried to hold onto it the sun hovered behind the trees and the air grew cooler.

  Costanza had laid tea out on the terrace and Gaitano had emerged from his siesta. He noticed their solemn mood immediately for having lost a sense he had gained another, finer one. Knowing Louis as he did and understanding Audrey he suggested they bring their teacups into the house. ‘I have something to show you,’ he said. They followed him into the dark interior of the sitting room, blinking in order to adjust their eyes to the darkness. The room smelt of mothballs and age and was lined with rows of bookshelves. But both Audrey and Louis noticed the piano almost hidden beneath piles of papers. ‘This belonged to my wife,’ said Gaitano, gesticulating to it. ‘My children didn’t want it. Will you play for me?’ Audrey frowned at Louis, because of course Gaitano couldn’t hear. As if sensing her bewilderment Gaitano placed his hand on his chest and smiled at her wistfully. ‘I hear with my heart, Audrey. With my heart.’ And he sat down expectantly.

  Louis didn’t hesitate. He pulled up a chair for the stool was too small for both of them and then he began to play. Gaitano threw his head back and chuckled as if he recognized the tune. Audrey sat down and placed her hands on the keys. Louis nodded to her, his face suddenly alive with enthusiasm. She took a deep breath because the last time she had played their tune her heart had been filled with concrete. Now she played it with joy and sadness together because it represented love condemned to the shadows.

  Gaitano watched them with glistening eyes. How he longed to hear with his ears but all he had was his heart and that was now failing him too, little by little each day. When it was time for Audrey and Louis to leave he too looked sad and he embraced them as if they were his own children. ‘Please come back,’ he implored them. ‘Whenever you like. I’m always here.’ They said they would and they meant it. La Magdalena was a refuge from their own suffocating world and they longed to return.

  They drove back up the dusty highway in silence, for a heaviness had descended upon them. They tried to think of what they had to look forward to and they had to remind themselves that they still had each other. They held hands and listened to the radio as the countryside was slowly swallowed up by the buildings of the city. They left behind them the tranquillity of the sleeping pampa and their illusory freedom, and prepared themselves once again for deception. Tonight Audrey would have to find another excuse to banish her husband from the marital bed and Louis would sleep alone, tormented by the scent of her skin still clinging to his. And they would both long for each other, separated only by the walls of the house and the prudence in their hearts. But walls can be broken down and prudence can be abandoned.

  As the days passed and Isla’s memorial service approached, Audrey knew that it wouldn’t be long before she surrendered. It was inevitable and she was ready for it.

  Chapter 23

  At Isla’s funeral Louis had sat at the very back of the church. Twelve years later, at her memorial service, he sat at the very front. Both he and Audrey were aware that it was because of their lies that this celebration of Isla’s life was happening at all, and they both felt decidedly uncomfortable about it. Audrey tried to convince herself that her mother only needed the smallest excuse to remember her younger daughter in this way. She would have found something else to centre it around had Louis not turned up. But she knew how ill everyone would think of them if the truth ever came out. Lying about an illicit affair was bad enough but Isla was dead and couldn’t speak up for herself. It was shameful, in a church of all places. Audrey stared at the crucifix t
hat stood on the altar, bathed in sunlight that streamed in through the stained-glass window, and remembered with some consolation that she hadn’t committed adultery yet, although it was only a matter of time. She was certainly on the road to Hell, but the road was a long one and she was willing to enjoy Louis now and pay for it later in which ever way God thought fit to punish her.

  She sat between Louis and her husband in the same row as her parents and brothers. It was a tight squeeze as the boys were no longer children, but she didn’t mind because it meant she could discreetly press her body against Louis’ without anyone noticing the silent messages that passed between them. She looked at her brother Albert’s handsome face. He was a man now, barely resembling the skinny child who used to make houses out of cards for Isla to destroy with one swipe of her mischievous hand. She cast her eyes down the row to her other brothers and in their growing up she noticed more than ever the rapid passing of time. As a child the years had seemed long, now they were gone before one had time to enjoy them.

  Cynthia Klein had passed away the previous autumn, buried in the city next to her friend Phyllida Bates. Only Diana Lewis and Charlo Blythe remained as two fragile strings in a once formidable quartet and they were now shrunken versions of their former selves. Diana was hard of hearing, but too proud to admit it, so she just talked over people so that they didn’t have the chance to speak and she didn’t have the chance to listen. Her mouth had all but disappeared into a distasteful pinch of disillusionment, for if one never smiles one forgets how to and if one’s thoughts are only negative one always looks glum. Charlo, on the contrary, had retained her silver dignity and at least had something to be happy about. Although the old Colonel’s mind seemed at times caught in the past like a record with a scratch that plays the same music over and over, he was company and Charlo never felt alone. She and Diana rarely spoke these days because Charlo wasn’t so interested in gossip as she once had been. She had found happiness and happy people are nice people. Diana had not.

  Diana took a seat behind Aunt Hilda and her four daughters, muttering to herself so that no one would talk to her. She noticed Nelly’s face was paler than usual and the downward curve of her mouth was beginning to resemble her mother’s. Diana wondered if her unhappiness had anything to do with Louis. In spite of what everyone else said about him now, she still thought as little of him as she had when he had first come to Hurlingham. Carrying on with Isla in secret was not a way for a gentleman to behave. She leaned over and looked through the congregation to where Cecil sat beside his wife. Now that’s a proper young couple, she thought to herself. Audrey had always been above criticism whereas Isla had only been elevated to that happy position in death. Goodness knows what would have become of her had she lived. She sniffed and opened the service sheet. Louis was giving a reading. ‘How very inappropriate,’ she grumbled under her breath. Then she noticed her scarlet fingers and shrunk back in horror. Blood was everywhere. She was dying. She was about to fall into a faint when she remembered that she had been painting that morning. ‘Thank God!’ she cried out loud. ‘I’m not dead yet.’ Nelly turned around and frowned at her. Hilda dug her elbow into her side and Nelly turned back.

  ‘She’s mad, Nelly, quite mad. Don’t give her any attention or she’ll do it again,’ she hissed. Diana fanned herself. Death frightened her and the closer she got to it the more frightened she became.

  As the service began Audrey caught the eye of Emma Letton who sat with her husband and three children. She suffered a sudden pain as she thought of her own children so far away and smiled sadly at her friend. Emma smiled back, a smile full of compassion for she understood Audrey’s despair. It was her sister’s memorial service, a reminder of her death, however well meaning and she was bereft of Alicia and Leonora. Emma shifted her eyes to Louis, who stood tall and proud next to her and couldn’t help but wonder whether he had only increased the amount of stress on her dear friend’s shoulders.

  Audrey tried desperately to feel her sister’s presence in the spring sunshine and fragrant breeze and watched the candles on the altar in case they mysteriously extinguished themselves again. But if Isla was there in spirit she made no show of herself, only in the memory of all those present as they remembered, through words and song, the ebullient child who had touched them all and then left, so suddenly, that they all still felt the ripples twelve years on.

  When Louis stood beneath the nave to read a poem chosen by Rose, Audrey felt a gentle rustle of admiration sweep through the congregation, reaching her at the front of the church like a wave and causing her body to grow hot with resentment. How fickle people are, she thought once again, and how fickle I was. If only I had had the courage to follow my heart. She watched him with determination. His hands trembled as he read and he didn’t once look up from the book in case he lost his place or perhaps for fear that they would see in his eyes the lies he had woven. Audrey felt her whole being swell with love and the unwavering resolve that whatever happened they would have a future together. When he had finished he returned to his place, looking at the rows of people from beneath his tousled fringe. Audrey smiled tenderly at him when he sat down and Cecil nodded his head in a brotherly sort of way, but his face was solemn. Then the two men locked eyes for a long moment so that Audrey wondered what silent communication passed between them. Suddenly Louis’ face flushed and he lowered his eyes guiltily, the self-confidence at once undermined by the challenge in his brother’s stare. But his sense of shame didn’t last for long because he could feel Audrey’s warm body pressed against his and his thoughts were distracted from the glare of his brother’s scrutiny. Then it was prayers and they were kneeling with their eyes closed, trying to concentrate on what the vicar was saying, but in the darkness they could only make out each other.

  It was at the end of the service, when they were filing out, that Audrey’s eyes fell upon the chairs at the very back of the church, now emptied of people and cast in shadow because the sun was unable to reach them. She felt her throat tighten with the memory of that final and devastating conversation she had had with Louis. She was unable to recall it without wincing. Suddenly she felt the tears blur her vision and without caring whether Cecil was beside her or far behind her, she threw her arms around Louis. She felt him stiffen, aware that they were in public and that his brother was right behind them. ‘I don’t want to lose you again,’ she whispered into his ear. ‘I lost you right here in this very place twelve years ago and I’ve spent all that time regretting it. Please don’t leave me again, I wouldn’t survive it this time.’

  Louis squeezed her and whispered back, ‘I’m not going anywhere without you,’ he said. ‘I’ll wait for you until I die if I have to.’ She sniffed and pulled away. Then she noticed his eyes shift their focus to beyond her. She turned to see Cecil approaching them, talking quietly to Rose and Henry. He shot her an inquiring look and she pulled a thin smile in reply to indicate that she was fine, just tearful, but fine. He turned away and continued his conversation with her parents. But his face fell into shadow as once again he was plagued with suspicion.

  Everyone was invited back to Canning Street for drinks and the house vibrated with celebration instead of the grief which had blackened the air twelve years before. Aunt Hilda watched Louis with resentment while Nelly felt his every move even though she was at the other end of the room. Aunt Edna’s jolly presence entertained everyone in spite of the debilitating sense of nausea that gripped her every time she thought of Audrey and Louis and the potential volcano they were both sitting on and she couldn’t help but notice how Cecil’s hands shook as he gulped down inordinate quantities of alcohol. He used to be such a confident, dazzling young man, she thought sadly. Where has Cecil Forrester gone?

  Emma Letton joined Audrey on the sofa while her children ran around draining the dregs from empty wine glasses and eating all the empanadas. ‘You miss them terribly, don’t you?’ she said, placing her hand on Audrey’s arm to show her support.

  ‘I do,’
she replied. ‘However much I try to distract myself, I think of nothing but them. What am I to do? My life was my children and now I have nothing.’

  ‘I know how I would feel if Thomas sent ours abroad, I’d be devastated.’

  ‘It’s the silence. The terrible silence. I feel so alone.’

  ‘Why don’t you have another child?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yes. You’re still young. Try for a boy?’

  ‘So that Cecil can send him away too? I don’t think I can go through it all over again.’

  ‘Of course you can.’

  ‘I wouldn’t want to replace Alicia and Leonora. They’d feel I was marginalizing them.’

  ‘I think they’d be happy.’

  ‘Then you know Alicia a lot less than I thought you did!’ Audrey laughed. ‘She’d be furious and Leonora would be so hurt. I couldn’t do it to them.’ Besides, she wanted to add, Cecil and I aren’t even like two ships that pass in the night. We don’t even get close.

  Suddenly the sound of music rose up above the chatter of voices. ‘Who’s playing?’ Emma asked, for they were sitting down and couldn’t see the piano.

  ‘Louis,’ Audrey replied.

  Emma sighed in wonder. ‘He plays most beautifully,’ she gasped. The voices hushed reverentially as the music filled the room squeezing out the last remaining voice that continued oblivious.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Diana Lewis shouted. ‘Has someone died?’ Charlo rushed to her assistance and led her out into the hall. ‘Why is everyone staring at me, for goodness’ sake?’

  For the first time Audrey heard Louis play something conventional, ‘The Warsaw Concerto’. He played it with such emotion that after a while everyone had found somewhere to sit and listen, letting the music take them to places they had never been and inspire in them feelings they had never felt. Everyone was touched by the extravagance of Addinsell and Louis’ heartfelt interpretation except Diana Lewis who smouldered in the hall, unable to hear anything but an irritating buzzing. ‘Why didn’t he play pieces like this at the Hurlingham Club?’ Charlo asked her husband in a loud whisper.