Secret of the Song

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Secret of the Song Page 9

by Cathie Hartigan


  ‘But he’s never said anything.’ I remembered the moment I thought we might kiss, the night he came to supper. There was something in that moment, but nothing was said. I saw him playing with Mollie, messing about and having fun. ‘Besides,’ I said, ‘let’s face it, he’s like an overgrown schoolboy.’

  Sophie looked shocked and I was shocked I’d said it. The tears were shocked forth too and filled my eyes. Sophie handed me the tissue she produced from her bag, almost like the rabbit of a magic trick.

  ‘Thank you.’ I sniffed. ‘It’s just that … for goodness sake, he’s so … so … so not serious about anything.’

  ‘But that’s his charm, isn’t it? You don’t want another misery like Michael.’

  ‘God, no. But he’s always messing about … all those games—’

  ‘Excuse me,’ Sophie interrupted me, ‘who is it that always joins in? Certainly not Robert, and I do only occasionally. You like all that stuff, Lisa.’

  ‘But …’ It was true, I did enjoy it. Jon made me laugh. ‘But I don’t want it to change things, Sophie. What about Noteworthy?’

  ‘What about it?’ She began to plait the long fringes of her scarf.

  The nap of the velvet upholstery was making my legs itch, and I wriggled about trying to get comfortable, although comfort wasn’t on offer. ‘I’m scared it’ll all go wrong and then he’ll leave.’ I retrieved the tissue from my sleeve and wiped my eyes again.

  ‘He might, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. And supposing Robert and I fall out, or Robert and Jon?’ She flicked the plait undone. ‘That’s much more likely. What would happen to Noteworthy then?’

  I didn’t know what to say. She was absolutely right, of course. What did I sound like? I knew the world went round; it wasn’t sunny every day.

  ‘Let’s just hope,’ she said, ‘that Ms Voluptress has not yet got her claws into Jon.’ Sophie flexed her own fingers and with her scarlet nails they looked quite menacing. Not that she would ever have need of them.

  ‘So you and Robert,’ I said. ‘Any more movies lined up?’

  ‘Umm.’ She looked at the ceiling, then the table, then at me with an expression that was definitely mischievous but with a few big spoonfuls of wicked. ‘I think so.’

  I wanted to know where, when and what, but Mozart’s fortieth symphony began playing in my handbag. I fished out my phone, pressing answer before I checked who it was.

  ‘Oh, Lisa, thank God you’ve answered.’

  ‘Hi, Mum,’ I said, keeping it light even though her tone suggested disaster.

  ‘I tried your landline,’ she said, ‘and you’re obviously out.’ Disaster with tears. ‘I’m on my way to your place now. Will you be back soon?’

  ‘What is it, Mum? Are you all right?’

  ‘It’s Thomas,’ she said with a hiccup, then began to weep in earnest.

  ‘I’ll be about twenty minutes,’ I said. ‘Where on earth are you?’ Background noise whizzed and whooped like an amusement arcade.

  ‘Taunton Deane Services.’

  She’d be half an hour at most.

  Having run for a hundred yards, I began to feel the onset of a stitch in my side. The Prosecco was jiggling about in my stomach, so I slowed to a stroll. My thoughts slowed down too and became more coherent. I assumed that something had happened to Thomas. Mum hadn’t had much luck with men after my stepdad died until Thomas came along. He was Saint Thomas after all. Thomas the Good, the Calm – he had to be to put up with my mother – and also Thomas the Deeply Romantic. Or was he?

  ‘I couldn’t stay another minute,’ Mum said. She sat on the sofa, box of tissues on one side, bin to throw the tear-sodden in on the other. I’d made her a cup of tea that she cradled but didn’t drink.

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘He lied to me, Lisa. A huge horrid lie.’ She shook her head. ‘How could he?’

  She kept repeating this but I was yet to know what this terrible lie was. ‘But Mum, what did he actually say?’

  ‘He didn’t say,’ she said with a sniff. ‘I found out.’

  ‘Found out what?’ It was getting tortuous.

  ‘His wife,’ she said in a thin whisper. ‘He told me she was dead! And all the while she’s alive and well and living in whoopee.’ This last word arrived with a loud hiccup.

  ‘A wife?’ I said, incredulous.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘In Wookey.’

  ‘And they’re not divorced?’

  She shook her head.

  The bastard. He’d set mum up in a little love nest in Glastonbury and told her he worked away from home half the week. Did he say the same thing to his wife? What a pillock. Wookey was only up the road.

  Eventually, I did get Mum to drink a cup of tea and later, when she was limp with the exhausting business of weeping, I put some clean sheets on Mollie’s bed for her. What we’d do the next day, I couldn’t imagine. Mum had let out her flat, and she could hardly turf the tenants out at a moment’s notice. It seemed incredible to me that Thomas had been so disingenuous. He must have had a lot of practice.

  ‘I’m glad you’re so sensible, Lisa,’ Mum said when I poked my head round the door and asked if she wanted anything else.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Not getting mixed up with anyone. It always ends badly, one way or another.’

  ‘Mmm,’ I said. ‘Maybe. ’Night, Mum. I hope you sleep all right.’

  I thought of the conversation with Sophie. I thought of Jon. I couldn’t help my feelings for him but I could help what I did about them. Was ‘being sensible’ sensible?

  The bit I didn’t understand about my mum was that she sought love over and over again, even though it let her down every time. The fallout always landed on my head, of course, and I wouldn’t wish that on Mollie. I resolved to do nothing. If Jon was really interested in me, then he’d have to show it. If he could be so easily seduced by Daniela, then I’d be better off without him. Who knew how many more hot-bloodied temptresses might hap along in the future?

  Mum stirred her Weetabix into a beige soup at breakfast the next morning. I don’t think anything passed her lips but she did manage three cups of coffee. I made the last two with decaff without her noticing. I know she didn’t sleep much because I kept hearing the bedroom door open and close. Being programmed to believe Mollie was next door, I woke up too. I imagined both of us would be feeling it later but didn’t fancy the half-crazed, eye-popping effect of too much caffeine as well.

  ‘Umm,’ I said, stirring my coffee rather intently. ‘Mollie’s home this afternoon.’

  Mum sighed a sigh of doom but followed it up with: ‘Would you like me to pick her up from school?’

  ‘Oh!’ What an offer. It would give me the opportunity to go back to the library. ‘Yes, please. If you don’t mind.’

  She sighed again. ‘I might as well.’

  ‘The thing is, Mum …’

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I can’t stay here for ever.’

  ‘It’ll be okay for a bit,’ I said, and then surprised myself by suggesting that she had my room and I slept on the sofa.

  ‘Oh, darling, that would be wonderful. I can’t quite face going back to Mother’s. Not just yet.’ Queen Victoria was a liberal leftie in comparison with my eighty-year-old grandmother, and her bungalow made Robert’s house look shockingly à la mode. Mum reached across and squeezed my hand. ‘It’s so lovely that you and I can really talk to each other.’

  I didn’t say anything.

  ‘So much for Sorrento.’ She began to sniff again.

  ‘Never mind. Better find out beforehand rather than halfway along the Amalfi coast.’ I passed her the kitchen roll as the sniffing was getting more serious. ‘I hope the bastard never gets his money back.’

  Mum shook her head. ‘No …’

  The look on her face. I knew at once. ‘Oh, no, Mum. You didn’t!’

  ‘He was going to pay me back,’ she wailed.

  ‘Yeah, yeah …’ God. I knew what w
ould happen. I’d have to sort it all. The chance that she would get her money back was about as likely as Mollie offering to sleep on the sofa instead of me. I checked the calendar even though I knew perfectly well that from Thursday to Tuesday’s departure date was less than a week’s notice.

  ‘Did it cost loads?’ I said.

  She nodded. ‘He said it would be nice to go first class … a real treat.’

  I’d never really thought of myself as violent but it was a good job Thomas the Snake didn’t live round the corner. ‘Bloody hell, Mum. It’s—’

  ‘Lisa!’ she interrupted me. Big Idea was written across her forehead but she said it anyway. ‘I’ve had a brilliant idea!’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gesualdo 1588

  Lavender. When the small blue buds are just about to burst open it is harvested and much time is spent refilling the little linen bags that freshen the closets. The scent is so strong at the beginning that we would work out in the open air if the weather allowed.

  It was this scent that first roused me from my swoon, or maybe it was the sound of familiar voices. When I opened my eyes, I found I was lying in my old room. Signora Carlino was speaking.

  ‘Don’t fret so,’ she said. ‘She will be awake soon.’

  ‘But how do you know?’

  Ahh … Salvo! Such delight coursed through me.

  ‘It is only a little shock,’ said his mother. ‘She’s young and strong. You’ll see.’

  I cleared my throat and found it sore, but the sound alerted them and Salvo was by my side in a second.

  ‘Silvia, you are awake!’

  ‘Yes, yes. So I am.’ And I laughed to see his expression, although in truth I could not have been more pleased. I began to raise myself to sitting but found my neck to be very stiff and lay back down. The pain of it reminded me why I was there and I put my hand to my throat. ‘What happened?’ I said. ‘ I remember Don Carlo … I thought …’

  Salvo’s face darkened. ‘Don’t think of it.’

  ‘Help me up, Salvo. I would rather sit than lie.’

  For some reason we both looked towards his mother, but her head was turned away. Salvo smiled and slid his arm under my shoulders. Sudden heat in my cheeks betrayed me, for I liked the feeling of his arm around me very much and found it hard to look directly at his handsome face. I felt his lips press softly against my forehead. Of course, I would have jumped away at once had I not such a stiffness in my neck.

  ‘There was a great noise when I fell,’ I said, once upright on the edge of the bed. ‘A clattering and the sound of clashing notes. Did I break the spinet?’

  ‘No, you didn’t break anything.’ He smiled. ‘But it was most fortuitous for you that the wooden crucifix fastened to the front of the gallery should choose to fall on the harpsichord underneath at that very moment.’

  ‘Oh!’ I realised his meaning in an equal moment. ‘But …’

  He put his finger to his lips. ‘Perhaps it was a sign,’ he said, sounding very serious. ‘And it may be that Don Carlo believes so too, for I know he has been much at prayer since.’

  ‘Well,’ I said. ‘I am very glad of that.’ Signora Carlino and Salvo both laughed in similar fashion, for I spoke with great feeling. ‘But, Salvo,’ I said, remembering our earlier meeting. ‘You have some news. What is it?’

  Signora Carlino approached and gave Salvo a light cuff to the ear. ‘What? You have not told her yet?’

  He looked aggrieved. ‘And exactly when was I supposed to?’

  ‘I think you should tell me now,’ I said, ‘as I’d like to go and see my family again.’ I stood up rather sharply and felt the ache in my neck once more.

  ‘I shall escort you,’ said Salvo, catching my arm beneath the elbow, ’and tell you on the way. We can sing that song too. How did it go?’

  Really! Could anyone be more vexing?

  ‘Well?’ I said, once we’d left the castle’s shadow. ‘Will you tell me?’

  ‘I might,’ he said. ‘If I may steal another kiss.’

  This time I sidestepped his attention. ‘Now, now, Salvo Carlino, I won’t have you making free in such a way. I was in a weakened state earlier, but now I am quite recovered.’

  He looked crestfallen but it was not in his nature to stay that way for long. We had only walked a couple of steps before he spoke again. ‘You are to go back to Napoli tomorrow,’ he said. And then, sounding extremely pleased with himself, added, ‘and I am to take you in the wagon.’

  ‘Oh!’ I was surprised, early the next morning, when only Salvo appeared. ‘Just you?’

  ‘Yes, just me. How fortunate that I was going anyway, for I do believe Don Carlo might have sent you by yourself on a mule. After yesterday he is quite anxious for you to be gone.’ Salvo jumped down, picked up my box and put it in the wagon. ‘What a good thing it was that a crucifix came to hand! The Prince is so very concerned for his immortal soul.’

  ‘Salvo! That is a very wicked thing to say. Are you not concerned for yours?’

  ‘Of course, but when did I ever do anyone harm?’ He took my arm and helped me up so I could sit beside him. Not that I needed help, but why refuse it? ‘Although,’ he said, ‘I should say that Pietro told me the Prince was merely trying to find the source of your voice’s quality.’

  ‘Quality! Of a demented dove, perhaps. I could hardly make a sound by the end.’ I shivered, even though the day was bright and warm. ‘So why are you going?’ I asked, not wanting to think back. ‘If not just to take me.’

  The wagon swayed from side to side. My small box knocked against the two other, larger boxes, first one, then the other, time and again. After a while I began to believe a phantom drummer travelled along with us and I wondered what it was that Salvo was taking all the way to Napoli. ‘What are we carrying?’

  ‘All that I possess,’ he said, cheerily, and as if quite normal.

  ‘But why?’

  ‘I am going to live with my uncle in Chiaia.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘My mother thinks it is a good idea,’ he said with a shrug, ‘and now that she is going to live with her sister—’

  ‘Is she?’

  ‘Yes, didn’t she tell you?’

  ‘No,’ I said. Signora Carlino had been more than kind to me after Don Carlo had been so keen to explore my ‘quality’. I think she felt responsible for bringing me to the castle in the first place, although I had put myself square in front of the idea. ‘Is it because of her eyes?’

  Now Salvo was surprised. ‘I thought she hadn’t told anyone.’

  ‘It is not difficult to see if you are looking. Both at her eyes and at her sewing. And, Salvo, while I think your mother likes me, if nothing was amiss she would already be in Napoli with Donna Maria, not mending the linen back at Gesualdo.’

  The wagon jolted suddenly on a dip in the road and Salvo’s arm was the only thing I found to steady myself. His hand closed over mine. ‘But what will you do at your uncle’s? Has Don Carlo no need for you at the castle anymore?’

  ‘He may have, but it is time I made the most of my talents. Pietro isn’t going anywhere else and his is the only position I would desire. Besides, I don’t like Don Carlo. He is more strange and demanding than most and after yesterday …’ He squeezed my hand and my heart gave a little skip. ‘So I am going to Napoli. My uncle is a stonemason and he thinks I have a little talent in the arts myself.’

  ‘A little?’ I searched amongst the oddments in my pouch and brought out the carving he had given me. ‘This shows more than a little talent.’

  ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘I’m glad to see you have it still. My uncle is to have me as an apprentice. I’m too old really but he is kind and my mother’s brother. I want to make something of myself, Silvia, especially if I am to one day take a wife.’

  He looked at me very earnestly then and I felt the heat of a blush.

  ‘How hot the sun is now,’ I said.

  The wagon slowed our journey almost to a crawl and we did the
poor pony a favour by walking beside her. I was reminded of the times Salvo accompanied me from the castle to the village, and I put my mind to working out exactly how long ago it was. But then, glancing sideways, I took in the neat trim of his beard, and realised that there was no true measure for the turning of children into adults.

  The road near Gesualdo was very quiet but as we approached the city, more horses and merchants clogged the way ahead. I knew we were close when the swifts and seagulls began to wheel above.

  ‘We shall see the sea soon.’ I clambered back up onto the wagon to get a better view, trying to stand, although the swaying was precarious. ‘Have you ever seen it, Salvo?’

  ‘Take care, Silvia! Do not stand like that! You’ll …’

  And I did. Perhaps one of the wheels hit a large stone or fell in a rut, I don’t know, but the next thing I was tumbling through the air. Most fortunately in the direction of Salvo’s strong arms.

  ‘Tut tut, my dear,’ he said as if to a child. ‘How many more times am I going to have to save you?’

  I was quite without breath so could not immediately reply. He clasped me firmly and there was no slight hiccup of my heart, but a wild knocking in my chest – perhaps from the fall – but it did not abate when I looked up into his eyes, for their usual twinkling had changed and was now charged with something far more fiery.

  ‘Ah, Silvia,’ he said, his voice serious and urgent. ‘Am I worthy of reward?’

  I could not speak but neither could I turn away from his gaze. His face came closer and closer and all sense of myself was lost as he put his lips to mine.

  I would remember that day for all of my life. So soon after the horror of Don Carlo when I thought my life was done, it began afresh and full of possibility. But who does not remember their first kiss? When the space between each narrows, thirsting with delight. I would remember that I was wearing my favourite crimson bodice that I had embroidered with daisies. Salvo’s jerkin was rough against my skin but his undershirt was fine cotton, its stitching as neat as anything I could do.

 

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