The Forget-Me-Not Sonata

by Santa Montefiore

  Later in the day when Audrey joined her family for lunch in the tiled corridor her body was still swaying to the music they had made and her eyes had glazed over with imaginings inspired by Louis and his wandering soul. She no longer feared him. On the contrary, she felt she understood him. She knew she shouldn’t love him, but he was the most loveable human being she had ever met. He was otherworldly and he had captured her spirit with his music, with his passion and with his impulsiveness that somehow made him vulnerable. She ceased to hear the small voice of her conscience for the internal melody of her love had muffled it.

  ‘Are you excited about your party?’ Aunt Edna asked Audrey when they all sat down to eat.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. Aunt Edna frowned at her lack of enthusiasm.

  ‘She’s nervous because she’s in love,’ Isla explained in a loud whisper. Audrey’s face throbbed scarlet with mortification and she shot her sister a wounded look. ‘I’m sorry, Audrey.’ She laughed. ‘But it’s written all over your face, they were bound to find out in the end.’ Their three younger brothers sniggered into their hands.

  ‘Don’t embarrass your sister,’ Rose chided gently, silencing her sons with a reproachful glare, though she longed to ask her daughter with whom she was in love. Audrey lowered her eyes and wished for a miracle to magic her away, but Isla’s ebullience was by now totally out of control.

  ‘She’s in love with Cecil Forrester,’ Isla blurted, her thick curls swinging about her face as she bounced in her chair with delight. ‘But she doesn’t think her feelings are reciprocated. Only Audrey could be so modest.’

  ‘Let’s change the subject,’ said Henry firmly. Rose caught her sister’s eye and without even moving her eyelids she communicated her pleasure with the utmost discretion. Aunt Edna responded in the same code. After a lifetime of mute messages the two sisters understood one another perfectly. Cecil would indeed make a good match for Audrey.

  Chapter 4

  Audrey sat alone in the shade of a eucalyptus tree, gazing out across the grounds of the Club with weary resignation. She knew she should never have trusted Isla, but like a fool she had once again been lured into confiding in her sister. Now her parents thought she had lost her heart to Cecil. If they knew the truth, they’d be mortified.

  Her mind drifted then to Emma Letton. She wondered how very different Emma’s life would have been had she married the Argentine. Happier, or had it been no more than an infatuation that would have died in time? Perhaps she had been expressing a subconscious yearning to break the rules. To experience what life was like outside the sheltered confines of their insular community.

  She knew Cecil was the right man to fall in love with. Not only because she instinctively understood what was expected of her but because she had heard what people were saying about the brothers. Cecil was the sensible, responsible one with good looks and charm and a solid, prosperous future. Louis was the wayward and impulsive one. The one who had failed to fight for his country.

  ‘Are you all right?’ came a deep voice from behind her. She turned around to see Cecil standing over her, his face in the sun, squinting at her through his dark glasses.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she replied, then sighed apologetically. ‘I’m sorry I rushed out like that this morning. It was the heat, it suddenly made me nauseous.’

  ‘Well, I hope you’ve recovered. It’s cool here in the shade.’ He grinned at her so that the lines around his mouth creased into his skin, already tanned from the hot Argentine summer. ‘Do you mind if I join you?’ Audrey shook her head and watched as he sat down beside her. It was then that she noticed he was in his riding clothes. Shiny brown leather boots over white jodhpurs and polo shirt.

  ‘You play polo?’ she exclaimed in surprise.

  ‘I played a little in England,’ he replied, then chuckled. ‘I’m not very good, though.’

  ‘You’ll improve here. This is the land of polo.’

  ‘I know. I play racket sports well, I’ve got a good eye for the ball, so polo should come naturally. Practice makes perfect.’

  ‘Yes, it does,’ she agreed, gazing out into the distance. ‘Don’t you just love it here?’

  ‘It feels like home already. Charming people and an idyllic way of life. No grey skies in this part of the world and no post-war gloom.’

  ‘I hear you came back a hero,’ she said, wondering how she could steer the conversation around to Louis. ‘You must be very brave.’

  ‘One never knows how one is going to react in a war. I worried I might discover I was a secret coward. But it made a man out of me.’

  ‘Everyone’s talking about your heroism, especially Colonel Blythe, you have a true admirer in him.’

  Cecil chuckled, ‘I like the Colonel very much.’

  ‘Louis didn’t fight in the war, did he?’ she asked, knowing the answer but wanting an excuse to mention his name. Cecil’s face turned grey and his mouth twitched at the corner.

  ‘He’s not like others, I’m afraid.’

  ‘That’s part of his charm,’ she said, turning her face away in an attempt to hide the light that burned through her cheeks.

  ‘You’re unique if you think he’s charming,’ he said, amazed and grateful that she looked for the good in Louis and found it. This sympathy encouraged him to confide in her. ‘Oh, Audrey, I despair sometimes,’ he groaned. ‘I worry for him, for his future.’

  ‘But, he’s doing all right in Daddy’s company, isn’t he?’

  He shook his head and laughed. ‘You’re so sweet, Audrey. He earns a salary because your father is a very generous man. Louis just wants to dream and play the piano. If it wasn’t for his music I’d think he was a lost cause, but he’s very gifted. It’s a shame he can’t channel that talent into other things. But he doesn’t want to work. He could be a concert pianist, one of the very best. He could teach music, compose, but he lacks the will and the discipline. Instead he sits in a stuffy office in the city behind a desk sketching everyone’s faces in caricature. He’s in a world of his own where no one else can reach him. Not even me.’

  Audrey’s heart stumbled at that moment because she knew that she had reached Louis, that he had invited her into his world, that she had made herself at home there. Cecil looked so strained when he spoke of his brother she wanted to reassure him by telling him of their shared love of music and their piano playing, but she held back. When Cecil looked at her steadily she saw how he admired her and she didn’t want to crush him. He hadn’t appeared vulnerable before, but now, talking about his brother, he looked defeated.

  ‘Has he always been like that?’ she asked, picking up a fallen leaf and rubbing it between her fingers to release the medicinal scent of eucalyptus.

  ‘Yes. He was always happier on his own than with other children. He didn’t seem to relate to anyone. The only time he came to life was when he played the piano. My mother had a large grand in the drawing room at home and he’d sit playing for hours, inventing tunes even before he began to learn to read music formally. He could play anything, you’d only have to hum a tune and he’d transform it into something incredible. I don’t know where that gift came from, neither of my parents are particularly musical. My mother plays only because her parents forced her to learn when she was growing up, but she isn’t a natural, not like Louis. Then he didn’t enlist when all the other young men of his age volunteered to fight. That was an awful blow for my father, who fought in the Great War and was awarded an MC. He’s a proud man, a military man, he’s never understood Louis. Mama, being a woman and more sensitive, did her best, but then gave up when Louis drifted further and further away.’

  ‘What about Cicely?’

  ‘Ah, Cicely, she’s a female version of Papa. Louis was always an embarrassment. She pretended he was adopted. She used to say it so often I almost began to believe it, so unlike the rest of us is Louis.’

  ‘How cruel,’ Audrey gasped. ‘Did Louis know?’

  ‘I’m afraid he did, but he didn’t seem to mind. I d
on’t think he wanted to belong to us. He doesn’t want to belong to anyone. I brought him out here because I thought a new place would be good for him. A place where no one knows him, where he can start from scratch.’

  Audrey looked at him, her faced aglow with admiration. ‘You’re a very kind man,’ she said, her eyes brimming with gratitude. ‘Louis is so lucky to have you to look after him.’

  ‘I do my best, but at times I wonder why. I get little thanks and it hurts me to hear people criticize him.’

  ‘They’re rude because they don’t know any better. It’s a small community, if you don’t conform to their standards you’re an outcast. I’ve seen it,’ she said, thinking of Emma Letton.

  ‘I’m afraid Louis doesn’t stand a chance.’

  ‘Oh, but he does. He’ll win them all over in the end. I’ve never heard anyone play the piano more beautifully – anyway, he’s not odd, just eccentric and artistic. He’s unique, a very gifted, very special human being.’

  ‘You’re sweet,’ he said, losing his heart to her all over again. ‘If I tell you a secret, will you promise to keep it, no matter what?’

  Audrey nodded gravely. ‘I promise,’ she replied.

  Cecil stared into the hazy blue distance. ‘Louis wanted to fight. He wanted desperately to join the war effort but he wasn’t allowed to. It’s his health you see.’

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’ she asked in a thin, anxious voice.

  Cecil sighed heavily, aware that he was divulging something that only his immediate family knew. He hesitated a moment, fighting with his conscience. Then pushing aside his reservations he said in a low voice, ‘He had a psychotic breakdown a few years ago.’

  ‘What’s a psychotic breakdown?’

  ‘A nervous breakdown. He was hospitalized for a few months with severe depression. He’s unable to cope under pressure. He can’t be relied on, you see.’

  ‘I see,’ she said slowly, her heart flooding with affection for this deeply troubled young man. Then she added after a moment’s thought, ‘I’m sure love would cure him. He needs someone to love him and look after him.’

  ‘We all need that,’ said Cecil softly. He looked at her with steady eyes.

  ‘He’s obviously too sensitive for such a cruel world,’ she concluded.

  ‘You understand so well and you’re so young. Where does this wise head of yours come from?’

  Audrey laughed bashfully. ‘I don’t think I’m particularly wise.’

  ‘Yes, you are.’

  ‘I read a lot. I read everything. Novels, hundreds of novels. You learn a lot about human nature through literature.’

  ‘Well, it’s taught you well.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No, thank you, Audrey. I’ve been feeling so low recently. You’ve made me very happy today. I shall enjoy your party tonight.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Will you promise me a dance?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘May I ask you a favour?’ he said suddenly, his head tilted on one side, a frown creasing his forehead. She nodded.

  ‘I hate to ask this of you . . .’

  ‘Please do, I’m sure I won’t mind,’ she replied, hoping that she wouldn’t.

  ‘Will you dance with Louis?’

  Audrey blinked at him in amazement. ‘Of course,’ she replied, barely able to restrain the smile that tickled her lips.

  ‘If you set a good example, Audrey, I believe the rest of the community will follow. Everyone thinks so highly of you.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Cecil, I’d be pleased to,’ she said confidently.

  Cecil relaxed his shoulders and sighed with gratitude. ‘You have a very sweet nature, Audrey. No one else has been so generous to Louis. I’m afraid he won’t thank you, but I thank you on his behalf.’

  ‘I don’t need thanks, everyone deserves a chance,’ she replied, not knowing what else to say. But Cecil thought her the kindest, most gentle human being he had ever met. Later when he thundered up and down the polo field Audrey was on his mind and in his heart and he didn’t care that he kept missing the ball because he had finally met the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

  For Audrey a bath was always a sensual experience. Scented with rose and lavender oils she lay in the pink water surrounded by steam, left alone to sink into her secret world of dreams. Isla’s shrill voice rang down the corridor as she argued with Albert but Audrey was far away with Louis, sitting on the top of a green mountain where they could lift up their hands and touch the sky. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the music they had created together at the piano and his words that had transported her into his world of make-believe. She closed her eyes and recalled every moment with such intensity that she might as well have been living them again. She pictured his sandy hair and dared to run her hands through it, feeling with her fingertips the texture and breathing in the spicy male scent which clung to his scalp. She touched his face, the lines that extended out towards his temples from his eyes and those that happiness had imprinted on his cheeks with each smile and with each burst of laughter. Then she found the furrows that melancholy had carved deep into his skin and she kissed them lightly in a bid to erase them and the memories that lived in them. She lay in the bath until the water had cooled and the steam had condensed. She opened her eyes and reluctantly emerged from the realm of fantasy. She had read all about the pain of love in literature but now she understood it. Her limbs ached and her heart strained against the excess of emotion that flooded into it. She knew her mother would be appalled and she didn’t even risk imagining what the Crocodiles would say if they knew how her soul longed for Louis. But she was unable to arrest her growing affection. She could think of nothing else but him.

  The dining room at the Hurlingham Club spilled over with an abundance of arum lilies and gardenia, lilacs and honeysuckle, drowning the musty smell of old wood and formality with their intoxicating perfume. The tall doors opened out onto the gardens which were bathed in the amber light of evening and misty with humidity. Audrey stood on the threshold with her sister and watched the sun set into a pink sky. Contrary to fashion Audrey and Isla wore their hair in long bouncing curls that fell thickly down their backs to their small waists and gently curving hips of blossoming womanhood. Their silk dresses reached the ground and rustled like autumn leaves when they walked, showing off the gentle slope of their bare shoulders and the luminosity of their skin. Isla’s dress was ice green to match her eyes while Audrey had chosen duck egg blue. They both wore long gloves and grown-up faces, aglow with excitement. ‘I love this time of day,’ Audrey sighed, thinking of Louis. ‘It’s so romantic, you long for it to last, but suddenly it’s gone, taking all this beauty with it. I suppose part of the attraction is its transient nature.’

  ‘Who are you going to dance with then?’ Isla asked, much too animated to dwell on such a commonplace thing as a sunset. ‘I’m going to dance with everyone. In fact, I’m going to dance all night without stopping. I suppose you’ll dance with Cecil till dawn.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ she replied cagily and a small smile caused her lips to quiver at the corners. There was only one man she wanted to dance with.

  ‘As the birthday girl, you can dance with whoever you choose.’ Isla laughed.

  ‘I’m very proud of you both,’ said their father, appearing behind them, his shiny black shoes tapping across the floor with characteristic precision. The girls turned around and smiled at him with affection. ‘Beautiful young ladies,’ he added, noticing their flowering figures and their poise. ‘You do me credit, both of you.’ Audrey and Isla swelled with happiness, for their father didn’t often give praise and when he did he meant it. Even Isla, who enjoyed testing the boundaries, couldn’t help but feel a certain delight in pleasing him. ‘It wasn’t so long ago that you were two very little girls,’ he continued, reflecting on the rapid passing of time. ‘As you know, Audrey, the year of your birth was marked by the visit of The Prince of Wales and his b
rother, Prince George. It only seems like yesterday that I danced with your mother in this very room while you slept in your cot back at home.’

  ‘And Mummy danced the best of all,’ Audrey added with an indulgent smile; she had heard this story a thousand times. Henry Garnet drew himself up with satisfaction.

  ‘Indeed she did,’ he replied, sniffing his admiration. ‘There’s no one who can waltz like your mother.’

  ‘Not even Aunt Edna and Aunt Hilda?’ said Isla, grinning provocatively so that her face suddenly lost its poise and creased into a childish smirk. Henry was unable to hide his amusement as he recalled Aunt Edna’s solid body swinging clumsily off the arm of some generous-spirited man who had asked her to dance and Aunt Hilda who was so thin and dry she looked as if the vibrations of the music alone might snap her.

  ‘They’re not natural movers like your mother,’ he replied diplomatically.

  Isla laughed out loud. ‘Nothing natural about either of them,’ she giggled.

  Her father chuckled. ‘Now, Isla, that’s a little unfair, don’t you think?’ he said, then added, ‘You are both fortunate to have inherited your mother’s grace. Audrey, I would like to have the first dance with you tonight.’ Audrey’s face broke into a wide smile and she blinked up at him with pleasure.

  ‘I would love that,’ she said.

  ‘The young men will just have to wait,’ he added when he saw how delighted his daughter was. She made him feel twenty years old again.

  As the guests arrived, leaving their gifts on the table at the entrance, Audrey searched the faces for the only one that mattered. Aunt Edna entered with Rose and Aunt Hilda with her four pasty daughters and her husband Herbert striding pompously ahead in white tie and tails. The Pearson sisters tumbled in, twittering like two spring sparrows followed by Colonel Blythe and Charlo Osborne, who still managed to dazzle in a long silver gown with her shiny white hair pinned on top of her head, twinkling with lustrous pearls. When the other Crocodiles saw her arrive on the arm of the Colonel they immediately formed a tight circle, where they remained gossiping fanatically until the Colonel rushed at them as if he were a lion, scattering them like a trio of vultures picking at a piece of old meat.