The Forget-Me-Not Sonata

by Santa Montefiore

  ‘Thank you,’ Leonora cried, embracing him. His opinion mattered much more than she had realized.

  ‘Can I be bridesmaid?’ Grace asked, hovering about the box.

  ‘You and your fairies,’ said Leonora.

  ‘Goodie. I’ll dance down the aisle in my ballet dress.’ Audrey grinned at Leonora who laughed at her sister indulgently.

  ‘I’m going to be a gypsy,’ she said. ‘I’m going to live in a pretty caravan in the middle of a field.’

  ‘In my day the man asked the girl’s father for her hand in marriage,’ said Cecil.

  ‘Oh, Cecil. It’s the seventies for goodness’ sake,’ Audrey replied. ‘Everything was so different in our day. Florien’s a gypsy. They probably have their own codes,’ she added, imagining that they would want to wed in the woods like the hippies.

  ‘He’s too shy to ask for my hand. But he wants your blessing too.’

  ‘You have it, darling,’ exclaimed her mother in delight. ‘You have both our blessings. No one deserves to be happy more than you.’

  At that moment Grace burst out laughing. They all turned and looked at her in surprise. ‘What are you laughing at, my love?’ Audrey asked.

  Leonora rolled her eyes. ‘Alicia’s coming home today and she’s going to be very very cross.’ Then she turned her animated little face to her father. ‘Is this box going to remain on the ground or are you going to build me a palace, Daddy?’

  Chapter 31

  Grace was right. Alicia was furious. But she was much too cunning to reveal her anger to her sisters and parents. Instead she congratulated Leonora by embracing her, albeit coldly, and then drove over to Aunt Cicely’s house to confront Florien.

  ‘You don’t love her!’ she said in a mocking tone when she found him at last in his tractor awaiting the long arm of the combine. A glint of triumph sparked in his eyes as he looked upon her livid face.

  ‘Yes, I do. I love her more than I ever loved you,’ he said. He suppressed the desire to grab her by her shoulders and kiss her petulant mouth, for her skin was moist with sweat and brown from her recent trip to France. Her blue eyes sliced through him and in spite of the ugliness of her character they bewitched him still. He averted his gaze and stared out into the cornfield where the combine moved sedately through the golden sea of wheat.

  ‘You still want me, don’t you?’ she said and smiled spitefully. ‘You can still have me if you like.’

  ‘I don’t want you, Alicia. I had you when I was a boy and then I grew up.’ She laughed contemptuously and he cringed inside. She still had the ability to make him feel as small as one of those grains of wheat that were strewn over the floor of the tractor. He recalled the day she had made him kill the chicken and he suffered the same sense of humiliation all over again. ‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ he retorted at her laughter.

  Her expression softened and she edged nearer. ‘I don’t need to, Florien,’ she said quietly. ‘You’re more handsome than I remembered. You’re stronger too. Working on the farm does you good. Let’s not talk about love.’

  ‘I think you had better leave,’ he said weakly. But in one swift movement she was astride him. She laughed again as she felt his excitement through his jeans.

  ‘You don’t want me to,’ she giggled, wriggling about on top of him. ‘You can’t hide lust, Florien.’

  Florien was now so humiliated the only way to assert control was to take her brutally. He roughly grabbed her neck and kissed her. She responded triumphantly, turned on by his fury and his force. She knew the power of her allure but to have it proven in small conquests such as this never ceased to excite her. She didn’t care that she was stealing her sister’s fiancé, for no one else’s feelings meant anything to her. She thought only of her supremacy over Leonora and all the other women whose men she had stolen. She felt omnipotent and her mouth twisted into a conceited smile. She rose up on her knees to allow him to unzip his trousers and laughed with pleasure as he swept aside her panties and thrust inside her. Florien felt even more humiliated as she rode him hard, writhing about on top of him like a fiend. He couldn’t control her or the warm, tingling feeling that conquered his limbs and drugged his mind so that he was aware only of the climax ahead and an overpowering desire for Alicia. She had wrapped her arms around his head so that his face was now buried in her breasts, which dripped with sweat inside her white shirt. He inhaled her scent and ran a tongue over her skin, tasting salt and perfume and something animal that belonged exclusively to her. Only after it was over did he feel guilty. But the arm of the combine was out and he was compelled to start up the tractor and drive unsteadily across the field. He looked back to see Alicia skipping happily over the stubble towards her car, her long brown legs shining beneath her blue mini skirt and her curls bouncing in the breeze. His heart was still pounding and his groin ached. His body was satisfied but he felt a tremendous wave of guilt and remorse.

  As Alicia drove up the track towards the main road she spotted Aunt Cicely coming the other way, having been to the village shop to drop off the new-laid eggs. She pulled over on to the grassy verge to allow her aunt to pass. She bit her lip, hoping that she wouldn’t stop to talk. But when Aunt Cicely saw her she stalled the car and threw open the door. Alicia took a deep breath.

  ‘I think you’ve got some explaining to do, young lady,’ said Aunt Cicely crossly. Alicia was struck at how her aunt had aged for she stared at her with the hooded eyes of an old woman.

  ‘If it’s about Marcel . . .’

  ‘Of course it’s about Marcel!’

  ‘I didn’t ask him to come out to France, he just turned up on the beach,’ said Alicia, shrugging her shoulders.

  ‘He turned up in France?’ Aunt Cicely gasped.

  ‘Don’t ask me, he was your lover. Look,’ she said in an almost patronizing voice, ‘he tried to seduce me on various occasions when I was living with you. I was a child, for God’s sake. I rebuffed him every time. The next thing I know is I’m on the beach in Antibes with my friends when he turns up, swearing undying love and all that nonsense.’

  ‘My Marcel?’

  ‘Yes, your Marcel.’ She sighed wearily. ‘I told him to go home. I didn’t want him.’

  ‘So what did he do?’

  ‘I don’t know. I assumed he’d come back here to you.’

  Cicely hesitated and stared out across the fields. ‘I’m sorry he’s gone,’ said Alicia. ‘But I assure you his departure had nothing to do with me.’ Aunt Cicely thought of the painting that now had a brutal hole in the place where Alicia’s face had once smiled out.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she apologized tightly. She didn’t trust Alicia, but Marcel was an artist, fantasy was his job. She had no alternative but to give her niece the benefit of the doubt. She looked down upon Alicia’s beautiful face. It was a cruel, unforgiving beauty. ‘I don’t suppose he said where he was going.’

  ‘No. But you don’t want him back, Aunt Cicely. He’s useless and I doubt his paintings were any good. Did you ever see any of them?’

  ‘Unfortunately I did,’ she replied. ‘He left one behind but it’s going on the bonfire as soon as I get my hands on some matches. Wonderful news about Leonora and Florien,’ she added, changing the subject. She noticed that Alicia betrayed a very unattractive smugness in the half-smile that crept across her face.

  ‘They’re perfectly suited,’ she said. ‘Leo’s always dreamed of being a gypsy and living in one of those hideously small caravans. You couldn’t swing a cat in them. Still, if it makes her happy. Horses for courses and all that.’

  ‘Yes.’ Aunt Cicely didn’t like her tone. ‘What about you?’

  ‘No one special,’ she replied. ‘Until I find Mr Wonderful, men have their uses.’ She chuckled, thinking of all the exotic places she had travelled to thanks to the fat chequebooks of her lovers. Aunt Cicely raised an eyebrow but Alicia only laughed. ‘It’s the seventies,’ she said, as if that excused her louche behaviour.

  ‘Well, don’t have too much
fun, or the important things in life will pass you by.’

  Alicia rolled her eyes. ‘You and Mummy!’ She sighed heavily and shook her head. ‘Life has never been so good.’

  As she drove off she pictured the love-sick Marcel turning up on the beach in Antibes. What a ridiculous sight he had been. She would have slept with him had he not rejected her the year before. He had missed his opportunity. The fool. She had flicked him away like one would a harvest fly and he had begged her to reconsider, professing undying love, claiming that he couldn’t eat or sleep because of her. ‘My life is a mess,’ he had said in desperation, turning to walk back up the beach. ‘I have left your aunt, who I loved, for a mirage.’ And because of the painting he could never go back.

  The wedding was set for 29th October. Audrey dusted off her sewing machine and made Leonora the most exquisite dress out of ivory silk, embroidered with daisies and ivy and a fairy costume for Grace who was to be bridesmaid. Panazel gave his son one of his caravans so he and his bride could start their new life together in the middle of the field where they first met and Aunt Cicely promised to keep them on after she sold the farm, for the grounds of the estate needed looking after and she felt too old and uninspired to do it herself, now that Marcel had gone and left her all alone again.

  No one knew of Florien’s clash with Alicia in the tractor and no one wished it hadn’t happened more than he. He went out of his way to avoid her. But his guilt pounded against his conscience like a pestle on a mortar.

  Leonora was so happy that her face acquired a beauty all its very own. Not the sharp, all-consuming beauty of her sister, but a softness of the features and a serenity of expression, an altogether quieter beauty.

  As the summer gave way to autumn Audrey took long walks along the beach. Grace was at school and Cecil now worked in the nearby town for a small investment firm. He earned little compared to his salary in Buenos Aires, but living was cheaper in England. She reflected on their new life. To her surprise she discovered that England was an easy country to love. The undulating hills and patchwork fields were so green and vibrant, the sunsets a luminous flamingo pink and the sky a delicate watery colour, as if the rain had washed the blue away. Little by little such a gentle landscape captured her heart. She was close to Cicely and saw Leonora all the time and Alicia now came down to visit most weekends. She missed her mother, though, and the loss of her father still hurt. She often thought about Aunt Edna and she missed her too. But she had been a small sacrifice for the restoration of her marriage. She could never have made it work out there where her aunt knew too much and was a constant reminder of her weakness.

  In the fresh English air she had been given a second chance. She had made an effort to forgive her husband for sending the twins away when they were little and she had been rewarded. She couldn’t pretend that she never thought of Louis. Yet, Cecil was a good man. She knew she had done the right thing. Every day brought her closer to him and took her a little further away from Louis, so that the pain of leaving him was now a dull ache that she could choose to ignore. She had kept her vow not to play ‘The Forget-Me-Not Sonata’ again and although there were times when her fingers fidgeted for those notes still so familiar, the fact that she refused to indulge them was an important part of the healing process.

  She no longer danced and she had locked her little silk book away for ever. Only Grace was a constant reminder of Louis, but as far as Cecil was concerned she belonged to him and Audrey’s admiration for her husband grew as she watched them together, both so very different and yet united as father and daughter. ‘Her head’s in the clouds with angels and other such nonsense,’ he would say, ‘but I don’t have to understand her to love her.’ And Audrey loved him for loving her.

  The morning of the wedding arrived. Leonora awoke tingling all over with excitement, Florien felt sick with guilt and nerves and Alicia climbed out of bed unable to believe that he was actually going to go through with it. She had enjoyed him that day in the tractor. But now the reality of his imminent wedding hit her between the eyes and her head spun, causing her to sit down to overcome the nausea in her stomach. She was certain of Florien’s love for her. She had held his heart from the first moment they had met and she was sure she could keep it until she was ready to give it back. Only she wasn’t ready to give it back. Today he was going to be united in wedlock to her sister. She ran to the bathroom and threw up.

  Leonora bathed and dressed in the gown her mother had made and even Alicia, whose face was as grey as the October sky, had to admit that she looked beautiful. Grace skipped about the room in her fairy costume, irritating Alicia by tapping her on the back with her wand and pretending to turn her into a toad. Cecil appeared at the bedroom door in a suit and rested his eyes proudly on his family. ‘You look lovely, Leonora,’ he said, kissing her on her forehead. ‘It will be an honour to walk such a pretty bride down the aisle. I hope Florien knows how very lucky he is.’

  ‘Oh, Daddy, of course he does,’ she replied and laughed lightly. ‘I’m very lucky to be marrying him.’ Alicia bit her tongue. She knew she could ruin everyone’s day with a few well-chosen words.

  ‘Grace, stop spinning around, you’re making me dizzy. Tell her, Mummy,’ she complained. Alicia wasn’t used to Leonora being the focus of everyone’s attention and she didn’t like it a bit.

  ‘Grace, why don’t you sit down for a few minutes,’ said her mother gently. ‘You’ll wear yourself out as well as the carpet.’ Grace promptly plonked herself on the bed, but waved her wand one last time at Alicia.

  ‘Bad fairy,’ she hissed, narrowing her eyes.

  Alicia blushed. ‘When I get married, I’m going to have a big wedding,’ she said quickly. She didn’t trust Grace’s gift. It was as if the child could see through her and read all her dark secrets.

  ‘If you marry the prince or duke of your dreams you probably will,’ said Audrey and laughed. ‘Our Leonora wants a simple wedding, don’t you, darling?’

  ‘Just the family,’ Leonora replied. ‘Sad that Granny and Great Aunt Edna won’t be there. Nice of them to send a telegram though. Mercedes sent an odd message.’

  ‘What did she say?’ Alicia asked. As far as she was concerned, Mercedes had been her friend.

  ‘“I always knew you’d be happy.”’

  ‘What does she mean by that?’ Alicia retorted sulkily. ‘That I won’t be?’

  ‘Of course not, my dear,’ interjected Audrey.

  Cecil shook his head but ignored Alicia’s self indulgence. ‘When you get married, Alicia, she’ll probably send you the same message,’ he said, straightening his tie in the mirror. He looked at his watch. ‘Right, I think it’s time for you all to go to the church. Leonora and I will follow.’ Leonora smiled at her father. It didn’t matter that she felt she barely knew him because today was her wedding day and he was going to give her away. Audrey nodded, looking at his perfectly polished shoes and pressed suit. He looked as sleek and dashing as he had looked at her eighteenth birthday party in Hurlingham, just older. His hair was now grey and his eyes betrayed the emotional turmoil of the last decade in the encroaching lines and in a certain weariness that caused his eyelids to droop. He was still handsome though. More handsome, in fact, than he had ever been, because now a depth of experience replaced the once glossy surface of a complacent army officer. Age had softened him around the edges and fate had humbled him. He looked up and caught her watching him. She smiled with tenderness which he mistook for pride. Unlike his brother he had never been able to read Audrey’s thoughts. But he smiled back, suddenly emotional at the sight of his little girl who had grown into a young woman while he had been elsewhere. Then Grace nudged him with her wand and his wistfulness evaporated. ‘Don’t forget me, Daddy,’ she said brightly. ‘I’m coming down the aisle too.’

  Alicia tried to catch Florien’s eye but he pointedly ignored her. She sat in the front pew with her mother and Aunt Cicely, barely able to take in the flowers and the candles for the sickness in her
stomach. She willed him to look at her, but his guilt was too much. Here, before God, he was about to make vows to love and honour Leonora. The Ten Commandments hung in large gold letters over the nave. He felt the words burning into his soul. He lowered his eyes and beads of sweat collected on his brow and nose. He had done a terrible thing and he hated himself more than he hated Alicia. Then the organ began to play and Leonora appeared in the doorway on the arm of her father, followed closely by Grace and her magic wand. He looked up timidly. He watched her approach, her face hidden behind a diaphanous veil embroidered with lilies. He could sense Alicia smarting with jealousy in the pew opposite, willing him to back out, which made him more determined than ever not to be distracted.

  Then Leonora was beside him. With sweating hands he lifted her veil. To his surprise his fear left him. He gazed upon the young woman who had always been his friend and a warm tenderness flowed through his veins. She looked up at him with eyes that sparkled with love and he smiled down at her, silently wondering how he could have been such a brute to betray her trust.

  Alicia watched them. She wouldn’t have recognized love if it had slapped her around the face, but she knew then that she cared desperately for Florien. Suddenly in those few moments when the bride and groom exchanged vows to love one another until death parted them, Alicia realized that her feelings hadn’t been solely about sex and possession. Yes, she had desired him and yes, she hadn’t wanted anyone else to have him. But she felt something more powerful and uncontrollable than desire. Feeling sicker than ever and a little lost she sunk into the wooden bench and bowed her head. She had never believed he would go through with it.

  After the wedding Alicia left for London without saying goodbye to her sister and her new husband. She couldn’t stomach it. She called one of her rich lovers as soon as she arrived and after dinner passed a feverish night in his bed, trying to prove to herself that Florien didn’t matter.