The Forget-Me-Not Sonata(39)

‘I’m so pleased you’re enjoying it,’ he replied, confounded by the intensity of her reaction. ‘Can I get you a drink? A glass of champagne?’

She nodded and burrowed in her bag for a hanky. ‘Oh dear, I always cry at beautiful music and dancing. But this is so sad.’

‘Don’t be embarrassed, it’s charming,’ he said, handing her a glass of cold champagne and his own silk handkerchief.

‘Isla thinks I’m oversensitive. She’s never cried at anything.’

‘She will when she’s older, I’m sure. She’s a bit young to appreciate this sort of thing,’ he said in a patronizing tone, knowing that age had nothing to do with it. He was thirty and he failed to recognize the magic of music and dance. Audrey laughed lightly because she knew what he was thinking and she remembered her sister’s words: how much does a fish feel? It was quite clear that he was unmoved but she didn’t mind. She knew that Louis would have been sobbing with her, holding her hand and feeling the power of the music as much as she. Cecil’s lack of appreciation was unimportant. She thought of Louis and her laughter melted into a wistful smile. She sipped her champagne and waited for the lights to dim and the curtain to rise so that she could lose herself once again and imagine that she was there with Louis.

It was during the final act, when Audrey’s tears began to spill again, that Cecil placed his hand on hers. At first she didn’t notice, she was so enraptured by the ballet. But then her body stiffened and the blood rushed to her head where it caused her cheeks to throb with embarrassment. She didn’t know what to do. If she were to withdraw her own hand she might cause unnecessary offence; if she were to leave it there she might give him the wrong impression. Suddenly she was unable to concentrate on the performance. Her hand beneath his lay like a dead fish in her lap, wrapped in her silk glove but not impervious to the warmth of his skin. After what seemed an eternity she realized that there was nothing she could do. She had to try to forget it and concentrate as much as she could on the end of the ballet. She tried to convince herself that it was a simple gesture of friendship. After all she had begun to cry again, what man wouldn’t want to comfort a tearful woman? He was only being kind. So she endeavoured to detach herself from the wrist down and focus with all her might on the dancers. Cecil was encouraged that she hadn’t found some excuse to move her hand away. He dared to take it a little further and squeezed it reassuringly. The evening had so far been a great success. When the programme was over Cecil led her down the stairs and out of the theatre to a small restaurant nearby. Audrey was subdued. Cecil believed her too moved to speak. But Audrey’s hand still burned beneath the silk and her head ached with the idea that her boundaries had been violated – and that she had allowed it.

Audrey didn’t want to spoil Cecil’s evening, not after he had made such an effort: it wasn’t fair to dampen his enjoyment. So with enormous effort she smiled and conversed with enthusiasm, desperately trying to sparkle as she had at the start of the night when the anticipation of the show had filled her with exhilaration. Cecil was too thick-skinned to notice the subtle change in her tone, he saw only the surface of her face and the glimmer in her eyes that reassured him of her affection.

It wasn’t until they were standing in the cold on her doorstep that Cecil finally managed to say what he had been intending to say from the moment he had placed his hand on hers in the theatre. ‘Audrey,’ he began. ‘I’ve enjoyed this evening tremendously.’

‘Me too, Cecil, I cannot thank you enough,’ she replied, turning to open the front door, relieved that the evening was over.

‘Yes, you can,’ he replied, suddenly taking her by the arm. She swivelled around in time to notice the fearful intent in his eyes. But there was nothing she could have said to deter him. ‘I want to marry you, Audrey,’ he said smiling triumphantly as if he were sure that she had been longing to hear those words as much as he had been longing to say them. She reeled backwards and had to steady herself by leaning against the door. ‘I know this is a surprise, and you don’t have to give me your answer tonight, or tomorrow night. You can think about it. But I know that you are the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with and I think you know it too. You do, don’t you, Audrey?’ Audrey tried to think of something to say, but her mind was suddenly screaming with so many words that she didn’t know which to choose. Instead she stood unsteadily with her mouth open, staring at him blankly, wanting to break down and cry.