by Graham Adams
Louis read on.’ Lewis Owen violinist plays from his latest album, ‘For my absent father’ underneath was written the comment ‘Forty year old genius visits Southampton, not to be missed!’
Edmund pointed to the performance date which was the next evening, ‘The Mayflower is only a short stone’s throw away from your hotel Louis, and so would you like to go?’
‘I think you should come too Edmund as my guest. You can park at the hotel and we both could walk from there, what do you say?’ Louis asked, and Edmund nodded saying he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Louis picked up his mobile phone and ordered two tickets whilst they stood on the beach. They were given seats six rows from the front.
They walked into the theatre foyer and facing them was a huge picture of the violinist and Louis just stood and stared at it. Edmund smiled as he looked at his friend’s face.
‘Honestly Louis there is no doubt in my mind that he is your son, but how could that be?’ Louis did not reply to Edmund’s question, he just walked into the theatre and sat down at his seat. The performance was very good, and Edmund’s favourite Vaughn Williams’ ‘Lark ascending’ was played. Edmund asked Louis what was his favourite piece, but he got no answer again. All he could do was to stare at the man on the stage. It was if he was looking through a mirror. Tears filled his eyes, and when Edmund saw them he didn’t speak to him until the end of the performance.
‘Louis I’m sorry that I can’t stay behind, as I’ve got to get back.’ Edmund said as the violinist took his bow. ‘Let me know what happens next old chap.’ Edmund patted his shoulder and left with the rest of the audience. The stage was empty and so was the auditorium as Louis made his way back alone into the foyer. As he walked towards the trader selling the performers CDs he felt a pang of conscience, firstly he thought about Annie was she his mother? What would happen if he confronted the man, only to find that it was all a big mistake, how embarrassing would that be?
He paid for a CD and opened it to read the sleeve notes. ‘Born in 1965 in a mining town in South Derbyshire, and brought up by his late mother who was a successful business woman.’ He was thinking about asking the CD seller if he could try and see the artist, but at the last moment he had an idea. Instead he turned away and went back to his hotel.
The next day he drove to Burley in the hope of seeing Victor, and he was in luck. He and Sally had just started their walk on the moor and he quickly caught up with him. Louis took advantage of the quiet morning walk to tell Victor about his experience the previous night at the theatre, and showed him the CD that he had purchased. At the same time he offered him a short term assignment. The task he wanted Victor to do was act as his personal agent, to contact the violinist’s manager and offer him a sponsorship for a European tour in the spring.
One of the conditions was that he didn’t want Victor to reveal who was providing the sponsorship, and to make it look genuine, he was to haggle with the manager and settle on five thousand pounds per week and a thousand pounds per week show costs. Victor was so excited about the offer that he offered to do it for free, but Louis would not hear of it.
The following week was the funeral of Leah-May, and Louis invited Victor, his parents and Edmund to the service at the Southampton synagogue and the interment at the cemetery where her mother Esther and some of his relatives were buried. His dear friend Mark had arranged everything for him and even offered to play the music at the service, which Louis accepted readily. Concerning Leah’s estate, because she died intestate, all the proceeds were to be left automatically to Louis. Mark said it was a substantial sum. The funds from the sale of the Guarneri violin, the bungalow in Shirley, the cottage in the New Forest, and her commission from the work in Paris had amounted to a considerable amount, and she had never touched any of them.
Louis thought that his proposed sponsorship deal was to be the first step in repaying his son, for all those missing years.
Whilst the young violist embarked on his tour, Louis was also quite busy. It was not difficult to discover that his son had married in his late twenties to Sarah, and she had presented him with twin girls, now ten years old, and a son who had just started school at five. They lived in the pretty Derbyshire Spa town of Buxton, and Louis had found a pretty stone cottage a few miles north on the A6 in a little village called Chapel-en-le Frith. He spent much of his time in Buxton, and without much difficulty he was able to catch a regular glimpse of Sarah, sometimes with her children. On occasions he would be in the same queue in the Supermarket.
There would be times when his son Lewis would come home, when there was a gap between his concerts. He then could see what a lovely family they were, and it gladdened his heart. One incident in particular stuck in Louis’s mind. One rainy Saturday he was standing across the street, and Sarah’s little boy was in some distress, probably he had fallen, and was crying. He watched as she bent over to pick the boy up and console him. He then noticed that she was wearing a gold chain, and hanging from it was a large gold ‘Star of David’. As the little family walked on the zebra crossing and he purposely crossed in the opposite direction, smiled at her and she smiled back.
‘Shalom my child’ he said, and when they had reached the safety of the pavement, Sarah looked at Louis, and smiled broadly. He instinctively knew she was of the faith and promptly disappeared into the crowd.
There were, of course, times when Louis did not visit Buxton. On one of those times he had decided to make a ‘pilgrimage’ to his home town, only twenty miles away, where he had not visited for over forty years.
Many of the landmarks of his youth were no longer there. Scattergood’s Tailors, where his father worked, Gilberts Garage and Sanderson’s Tripe shop, all gone. There was still a newsagent on the site of Mr. Reynolds’s shop, so Louis called in, and being as it was a Saturday, asked for a ‘Green un’ results paper. Much to his amusement the new proprietor had never heard of it.
As he ventured up the steep High Street, he noticed many of the shop sites were closed and boarded up. Halfway up the hill, he recalled how he found the fifty pound note that a Dr Collins had lost. To his amazement, a passerby told him that Dr Collins was still in practice, the surgery was just down a side road. Quickly he walked down the narrow road and there it was.
He reached the Surgery door, and his heart sank. He realised that it was closed, being Saturday. The brass plate at the side of the door still had Dr. E Collins M.D., which was at the top of the list of practitioners. He looked back at the door which gave an ‘out of hours’ telephone number, which he rang on his phone. Having gone through the usual recorded message, he finally spoke to a human voice.
‘Is it possible to speak to Dr. Collins please?’
‘Would that be Junior or Senior sir?’ the voice asked
‘Senior please.’ He gasped.
The line went dead, and Louis seemed to be hanging on for ages, thinking that he had been cut off. Suddenly another voice came onto the line.
‘Hello, how can I help you? This is Doctor Collins speaking.’
‘Sir, I mean Doctor, can I come to see you on a personal matter? My name is Louis Owen.’
‘Louis Owen, are you on my list?’ he asked.
‘If I was to tell you that over forty years ago, I found a fifty pound note belonging to you. Probably a policeman brought it to you. I realise that you may be too busy to see me, but it is most important that I speak to you sir.’
There was another long period of silence, and Louis thought that the old doctor couldn’t remember this occurrence, when out of the corner of his eye; he saw the door of the property adjacent, open. A small white-haired man leaned out and waved at him.
‘Come in my boy, come in please.’
The doctor led his guest into the living room, where Louis introduced himself, and apologised for disturbing them. The old man introduced his wife Helena, and himself, Ernest to him. As they sat together in the comfortable lounge, Ernest said that he did remember the incident with the fifty pound note, an
d that the policemen did indeed bring it round, saying that a boy had found it. Sadly though, the officer did not divulge the boy’s name, so he was unable to make contact, and of course give him his just reward.
They all laughed when Louis said that he was not there for the reward. At that point, Helena invited Louis for lunch, which he gladly accepted, and then she excused herself and went into the kitchen to prepare it.
As the two men sat opposite each other, Louis told the old doctor about the recent discovery of a son that he hadn’t known about. He told him that his name was Lewis Owen and he was currently on a European tour as a violinist. At that point Helena came into the room clutching Lewis’s CD ‘For my absent father’
‘Helena, can I ask you if you knew Lewis’s mother?’ Louis asked.
‘Do you mean Annie Gilbert?’ She asked. Louis nodded. ‘So, you are Lewis’s father? But how could that be?’
‘Well it’s a long story Helena, but I was nearly eighteen when Lewis was conceived.’ Helena looked shocked, and went back into the kitchen.
Ernest told Louis that the whole Gilbert family were patients of his, including the baby Lewis. They had spent three hours filling in the last forty years of his son’s life, and Louis had revealed the past forty years of his own to them.
He left them with his home address in Chapel-en-le Frith, should they need to contact him, and so he left them with a song in his heart.
As he drove home, he realised that he should have asked more about dear Susan. Then he remembered how he and his mother had caused her so much pain. He thought that perhaps that stone would be better left unturned.
After his year of sponsorship had elapsed, Lewis the violinist had achieved his dream of fame and fortune. His father had followed his progress closely, and kept all of his reviews. Louis had decided that at his son’s last concert, to be held at the Wigmore Hall in London, he would invite Edmund and Victor, with his new wife to the concert. The week before the final concert, he had spoken to his son’s manager and told him that he intended to meet Lewis after the performance. As he entered the hall, there was a large poster showing Lewis holding his instrument. Stuck across the poster was a sign ‘Sold Out’. He could not have been prouder.
They had acquired four front row seats. They sat in the following order; Louis, Edmund, Victor’s heavily pregnant wife and finally Victor. Victor’s wife was stunning, and she leaned over to Edmund and asked if he remembered her. He gazed into her dark eyes and looked at the beautiful features and remembered straight away.
‘Aren’t you that Russian girl that I met when you were at the art show in the New Forest?’ He asked, ‘and weren’t you looking for Victor then? It certainly looks like you’ve found him now.’ Edmund smiled at her and for once she smiled back.
Victor leaned forward to tell Louis that Lydiya was the daughter of Mikhail, but Louis was in a world of his own at that moment, so Victor just leaned back on his seat and waited for the performance.
‘What happened to your father Lydiya?’ Edmund asked, and Louis heard that question and pricked up his ears for the answer.
‘My father and mother were taken to Moscow last year and they were charged with embezzlement by the Minister of Justice. They gave him a choice, thirty years in prison, or accept a minor official post in Vladivostok, which of course he took. They seem happy enough.’ Lydiya answered openly. Louis said nothing, but on reflection he was glad that those Russians that they had met at Middle Temple did the right thing by him. He and Victor had got their lives back and that was the best solution.
They all attended the reception after Lewis’s performance and there were so many dignitaries there, that they held back to meet the celebrity, until there was enough room. The four of them were finally in his presence, and Edmund took the lead by introducing himself, Lydiya and Victor to Lewis, leaving Louis standing back for the moment. The three of them had a few moments of complimentary chat and then excused themselves.
Louis nodded to Edmund and then stepped forward to shake his hand. ‘Hello, my name is Louis Owen.’ He spoke a little loudly and a few people turned round, but it was just nerves. Lewis just stood there stunned with his mouth open. Louis was just about to say something.
‘Lewis, Lewis! I’m so sorry; I meant to introduce you to your sponsor for last year’s tour.’ His manager’s face was red with embarrassment.
Lewis ignored the man and grabbed his visitor with both arms in a bear hug. ‘Dad, is it you?’
All Louis could do was nod with his head, and kept nodding it. ‘Yes my darling boy, it is!’ Father and son just kept on hugging each other.
The End