The Forget-Me-Not Sonata

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The Forget-Me-Not Sonata Page 8

by Santa Montefiore


  ‘But you’ve danced.’

  ‘Yes, but . . .’

  ‘Dancing can be like making love,’ Isla said provocatively, watching her sister through narrowed eyes.

  Audrey’s brush hesitated on her hair and she stared into the face in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman who now returned her stare with self-awareness. With the right man, a dance could be a physical act of love. Two bodies moving together. Two souls separated only by skin. Two hearts calling to each other through the bars of their ribcages. Isla didn’t know just how right she was.

  ‘Can I share your bed tonight?’ Isla asked, snuggling deeper into the pillow. Audrey frowned at her.

  ‘We haven’t shared a bed since we were children.’

  ‘I know. But I want to. You’re my sister and I feel you’re growing away,’ Isla explained. ‘Soon you’ll be married and we won’t be on our own any more. You and me against the world. It’ll be me against the world and you and Cecil somewhere else, in the blissful land of marriage.’

  Audrey laughed. ‘All right. If you want to.’

  ‘Hardly seems worth going to bed,’ Isla said and yawned. ‘If Albert wakes us up I’ll be furious.’

  ‘He’ll find your bed empty and think you’re still dancing.’

  ‘I will be, in my dreams.’

  Audrey slipped beneath the sheets and closed her eyes. She too was still dancing, dancing with Louis down the leafy passages of her imagination. When Isla’s hot body wrapped itself around her sister’s, Audrey was almost asleep. As she hovered on the brink of slumber she felt the reassuring sensation of another being next to her, heard the gentle rise and fall of breath and the occasional movement as her sister arranged herself into a comfortable position. She wondered what it would feel like to lie in Louis’ arms. She wondered so intensely that she closed her mind to reality and opened it to the random world of dreams.

  She was lying in Louis’ arms in a small attic at the top of a house, oddly familiar to her in the illusory realm of her subconscious. Louis’ face was staring tenderly into hers, caressing her features with his eyes and with his fingers. Loving her with kisses and unspoken words expressed in a language forged over many lifetimes. She heard the distant music of the tango as if the musicians were settled beneath the window, playing only for them. She basked in the warm reassurance of his embrace and in the certainty that she belonged to him and he to her in an eternal bond that no one could break. Then the music seemed to fade into the distance, replaced by the cold, methodical drumbeat of a march. Suddenly Louis’ face became Cecil’s and his caresses were at once unwelcome. She squirmed and yet she didn’t try to get away because she knew it was what she had chosen.

  An icy claw scratched her heart and awoke her with a jolt. She opened her eyes to the reassuring sight of her pale blue bedroom, the linen curtains billowing at the window, the early morning light tumbling in with the breeze and the cheerful dawn chatter from the bird tree. She heard the seven a.m. siren from the Goodyear factory in the distance and her sister’s deep breathing and remembered where she was. Her heartbeat slowed but the dream continued to haunt her. She was afraid to close her eyes in case the image of Cecil returned with the ominous sense of destiny that hovered in the wings ready to snatch her future away.

  As Audrey embarked upon a secret and dangerous romance with Louis Forrester her dream receded into the shadows of her memory until it no longer troubled her, so certain was she of their future. However, they had to use all their resources and ingenuity to see each other. Louis worked every day in the city with his brother, taking the train early in the morning from the small station in Hurlingham. Not to be defeated by the seemingly impossible nature of the situation he devised a way of communicating through little notes that he would hide in a hole in the brickwork of the station house as he left in the morning and retrieve her reply from the same place at the end of the day. He spent evenings at the Garnets’ house quietly sketching caricatures of Aunt Edna and portraits of Audrey and Isla while Cecil sat on the terrace with Rose and Henry oblivious of the tender glances that passed between the young lovers. Then at night, when the long hours of waiting were finally over, Audrey would creep out of the house and into the garden where Louis would be waiting for her in the orange orchard, hidden beneath the umbrella of a cherry tree.

  To mask her feelings for Louis she devoted more attention to Cecil. As long as she shared the same air as Louis she was prepared to welcome the attentions of his brother, for if everyone suspected her heart to be attached to him her true feelings would naturally go unnoticed. So absorbed was she in her secret world that she failed to realize Cecil’s growing confidence and her parents’ increasing speculation on the gentle progress of their affection for one another.

  ‘Why doesn’t he court her?’ Aunt Edna sighed one Saturday afternoon while the girls lay in the sun up at the pool with Cecil and two of Hilda’s insipid daughters, Agatha and Nelly. Rose smiled hopefully, leaning on her golf club.

  ‘Henry says it’s because he’s a correct young man,’ she replied. ‘You can understand, poor Cecil, being in love with the boss’s daughter. I imagine he wants to take his time, assure himself of her affection, before asking Henry’s permission.’

  Aunt Edna nodded her head in approval, picking up her golf club again. ‘What beautiful manners he has. Most other boys would dive straight in there without asking.’

  ‘Not Cecil,’ said Rose. ‘He’s a different type of man altogether. I know it’s only been a short time since he arrived in the Argentine, but I’m so terribly fond of him.’ She bent down to place the ball on the tee.

  ‘So am I,’ Aunt Edna agreed. ‘But I’m also fond of Louis.’

  Rose stood up and positioned herself for the drive. ‘Oh, me too. I’ve got to know him better over the last few weeks. He’s a wonderful artist and plays the piano most beautifully. He’s just not the sort of man one would want for one’s daughter.’

  ‘True. Isn’t it lucky Audrey’s so sensible,’ Aunt Edna commented.

  ‘Oh, Audrey wouldn’t fall in love with Louis, she’s much too intelligent. No, she needs a strong man with a stable job and a good, solid personality. Now Isla’s more of a worry, she’s likely to fall in love with the most unsuitable man just to cause trouble.’

  ‘You’re going to have to watch that one,’ Aunt Edna chuckled.

  ‘So are you,’ said Rose with a smirk. ‘We all are.’ Rose swung the club a couple of times to get her eye in, then shuffled her neat feet, pulled the club back and swung down upon the ball. ‘There, much better than yesterday, don’t you think?’ She laughed as the ball was launched into the air in a perfect arc.

  ‘Goodness me, Rose, that was awfully good,’ her sister congratulated with admiration. ‘The thought of Audrey and Cecil is really improving your game.’

  Rose tried to hide the smugness in her smile, but she was so confident of their attachment the effort proved too much and she grinned openly.

  ‘It’s improving everything,’ she replied.

  Cecil was confused. One moment Audrey was giving him her full attention, walking with him around the garden in the evening, sitting talking to him up by the swimming pool, laughing with him while they watched his brother play the piano in the hall, always with animation as if there was no one more important to her than him. Then the next moment she would appear distracted, gaze out into the half-distance lost in thought as if he wasn’t there. During those interludes he knew there was nothing he could do to reach her. It was those brief dives in the steady rise of their friendship that delayed his asking her out properly. They threw his mind into doubt. He longed to discuss it with Louis, but Louis wasn’t the sort of brother one could confide in, he wouldn’t understand. Louis had never been in love and probably never would be. His mind was elsewhere. So Cecil resolved to keep his anxieties to himself and be patient, after all, her actions suggested that she preferred his company to any other, so he had all the time in the world.

  While Cec
il brooded on the object of his desire, Louis and Audrey believed there was nothing that could come between them and they congratulated themselves on their powers of deception.

  ‘I want to take you to Palermo,’ Louis announced one night in early April. ‘I want to dance the tango with you.’ Audrey frowned apprehensively, she felt very safe behind the wall in her garden. The idea of sneaking off into the city in the middle of the night filled her with fear.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, Louis,’ she began. ‘How will we get there?’ Louis took both her hands in his and kissed them, one at a time.

  ‘You don’t have to worry, my love, I’ll never let anything happen to you.’ He watched a small smile alight across her troubled face. ‘Your problem is you think too much.’ He chuckled, brushing her cheek with his fingers. ‘Do you remember when I told you not to be afraid to dream?’ She nodded. ‘Well, I’m not afraid to dream, or to turn my dreams into reality.’

  ‘And I so want to,’ she replied, anxiety and excitement rising together in her chest and making her shiver in spite of the humidity. ‘I’m worried we’ll be seen.’

  ‘In Palermo?’ he exclaimed. ‘Who’s going to see us there at one in the morning?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She laughed. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if we were discovered.’

  ‘We’re not going to be discovered until the time is right. In the meantime, I want to dance with you.’ He watched her blush as she recalled her sister’s shameless analysis of dancing. Then as if he read her thoughts he added, gazing at her with eyes made heavy by the weight of his emotions, ‘I want to be close to you, Audrey, and here on this bench is not close enough.’ She knew what he meant and blushed a deeper crimson.

  ‘All right,’ she conceded. ‘Let’s go to Palermo.’

  Louis jumped to his feet, pulling her up with him and gathering her into his arms where he pressed his body against hers, one hand in the small of her back, the other threading his fingers through hers and holding it against his chest. Humming softly he proceeded to dance with her on the glittering grass in the orange orchard. At first she giggled at his impulsiveness but then, when his forehead leant wistfully against hers she no longer laughed, but felt as he did that familiar melancholia that is the weight of love on one’s soul. Neither spoke. They just moved slowly to the low murmur of his voice as he sang the sonata he had composed for her.

  The following morning Audrey cycled as usual to the station to retrieve Louis’ note. It was another hot day in a relentless string of hot days. The sky was a cornflower blue, almost violet and the sun seemed to pulsate as if barely able to cope with its own force. The station was quiet. Only a couple of bony mongrels trotted up the track, sniffing the ground for scraps like a pair of wild prairie dogs. She leant her bicycle against the wall and walked hastily onto the platform. Finding the hole in the brickwork she pulled out the little piece of white paper that in the last few weeks she had come to depend on.

  Tonight we’ll dance the Tango together in the cobbled streets of Palermo. Watch the clock and think of me for today every minute will drag. I long for you with every muscle in my body. I’ll meet you tonight in the same place at the same time. Don’t be afraid, my love will protect you.

  He always signed it ‘From he who loves you most’ and she in turn signed hers ‘From she who loves you dearly’ as a precaution against the notes being discovered by someone else.

  She smiled as she read it over and over, running her thumb across the paper that he had held in his hands only a couple of hours before, then she brought it to her mouth and passed it over her lips, closing her eyes as if it had the power to transport her closer to him. Finally she folded it away and placed it at the very bottom of her pocket, pulling out her own note that she had written in the early hours of the morning, when sleep had seemed to her an unnecessary waste of time when she could spend it better, thinking of him. She opened it and read it again, taking pleasure from the thought of him returning home that evening and reading it himself. It said simply:

  Today I love you more than I did yesterday, which I never thought was possible. There is no limit to my devotion.

  Satisfied that her words would please him she rolled it up into a tiny scroll and pushed it into the hole. She then stood back and looked at the wall to make sure that it wouldn’t catch anyone’s eye unless they were looking for it.

  ‘Todo bien, Señorita?’ said Juan Julio, staggering out into the sunshine from the cool shade of his office. Audrey sprung around guiltily, hoping he hadn’t seen her place the paper into the wall.

  ‘Oh, fine, thank you, Juan Julio,’ she replied in Spanish. He straightened his hat and pulled his trousers up over his round belly. His face was red and sweating. He was too fat for this heat and too lazy for a job such as his. He sighed heavily as he waddled slowly towards her like a penguin having just feasted on a sea full of fish.

  ‘How hot it is today,’ he commented without caring that he had said the same sentence to everyone he had come into contact with for the past two months.

  ‘Yes, it is.’ She nodded. ‘I like the heat.’

  ‘Oh it doesn’t suit me,’ he lamented, mopping his forehead with a grubby hanky. ‘It’s always hotter on the platform. Not good for my blood pressure. Not good at all.’ He walked past her towards the signal box. Audrey’s shoulders relaxed with relief. He was too deep in his own stupor to notice the notes or to even ask what she was doing there. She skipped off to where she had left her bicycle and bumped straight into Diana Lewis and Charlo Osborne, dressed in cream hats, silk dresses and long pearl necklaces as if off to a garden party.

  ‘You’re looking very happy today, young lady,’ observed Charlo, when she saw Audrey’s bright eyes and smile.

  ‘It’s a lovely day,’ she replied, picking up her bicycle.

  ‘What are you doing here of all places?’ Diana asked, removing her gloves. ‘Far too hot for these,’ she muttered to herself, squashing them into her handbag. Audrey decided it was best to avoid the question and diverted their attention to themselves.

  ‘Are you going into town?’ she asked.

  ‘Charity luncheon in the city,’ Charlo sighed. ‘But one must do one’s duty,’ she added sanctimoniously, looking Audrey up and down with her sharp blue eyes.

  ‘One certainly must,’ Diana agreed. ‘Mind you, it’s too hot to be in the city on a day like this. Good God, I’m already glowing. Still, one must think of all those poor people and do what little one can.’

  ‘How is that dear Cecil Forrester, Audrey?’ Charlo asked silkily. ‘I gather he spends an awful lot of time at your house.’

  ‘Yes, he and his brother both do,’ Audrey replied innocently. ‘They’re both very well.’ Charlo’s mouth twitched with frustration. But Diana wasn’t going to leave without throwing a piece of bait into the water.

  ‘You look full of the joys of life, Audrey,’ she said. ‘Oh to be young and in love again!’ She sighed, shaking her head so that her chins wobbled like a fat chicken. Audrey frowned at her.

  ‘Come on Diana, I can hear our train, we wouldn’t want to miss it.’

  ‘And do the poor out of precious funds, no we certainly wouldn’t,’ Diana added. They waved goodbye to Audrey as she cycled up the road then entered the stationhouse gossiping about Audrey and Cecil’s advancing friendship, which they were both certain would amount to marriage at some time in the near future. ‘She’d be a fool to let that one go,’ Diana said, pulling out her purse.

  ‘She’s no fool, that I assure you,’ Charlo sniffed confidently. ‘She knows what’s good for her. Always done the right thing, ever since she was a child.’

  Audrey dreamed the day away while Isla and her brothers were at school and her mother was at the Club playing golf with her sisters. She sat on the bench in the shade reading, but although her eyes followed the lines of prose her mind was in another realm, the one inhabited by Louis, the place where she was happiest to be. As irritating as the Crocodiles were she had to congratulate
herself on the success of her deception. Everyone thought she had lost her heart to Cecil and as much as she longed to shout her true feelings from the rooftops she knew that her patience would pay off in the end, when at last they would be able to declare their love to the world without facing disapproval and prohibition. They’d all see the good in Louis in time.

  The hours passed as slowly as Louis said they would and she watched the clock and thought of him watching it too, willing the time to fly. Finally day succumbed to night and darkness flooded in to hide their secret in cool pools of shadow that even the moon was unable to penetrate. Once again Audrey removed her shoes and tiptoed down the stairs, taking care to avoid the floorboards that she knew creaked. As she left the house she was too excited to notice the pair of eyes that silently watched her from the upstairs window.

  Louis met her beneath the cherry tree in the orange orchard as usual. Sometimes she’d go there in the daytime, when he was at work, and sit in a daze, feeling with her senses his vibrations that lingered in the boughs and in the leaves as if part of him was still there. After embracing her and kissing her ardently he led her out into the street where a car awaited them, hidden around the corner like a crouching puma. The driver knew where to take them and Audrey sat in Louis’ arms, watching the mysterious world of the night pass by the window. As they drove into the city she noticed at once that far from being sleepy the streets were throbbing with activity. The lights dazzled and the cars tooted their horns, impatient to reach their destinations. The smoke-filled restaurants heaved with people and music reverberated across the leafy avenues and plazas where couples walked hand in hand in the warm glow of the streetlamps. She squeezed Louis’ hand to show him how pleased she was that she had come and he squeezed it back in silent agreement.

  As they drove into Palermo the scenery changed completely. The wide avenues were reduced to narrow cobbled streets which ascended a hill and opened into a small square around which little restaurants and cafés tumbled out onto the pavements next to the dark windows of antique shops, closed for the night. The car stopped and Louis told the driver to come back for them in a couple of hours. They walked around the square, happy to step out together in a place where no one knew who they were and no one cared. They kissed in the plaza then embraced to the music that seeped out from beneath the door of an old tavern. ‘Now, we’re going to learn how to dance tango,’ he said, leading her towards the music. Audrey held back.

 

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