The Forget-Me-Not Sonata(49)

‘Let’s not talk about this now. Please, Louis, let’s talk about this when we’ve had time to come to terms with Isla’s death.’ She wanted to add that she needed his comfort not his demands but he looked so fragile she feared he might do himself harm so she remained silent, wondering where the Louis she knew and loved had gone.

But Louis interpreted her request as a veiled way of delaying the agony. She no longer wanted him and he no longer wanted to be around her, so great was the sting of her rejection.

Audrey begged him to accompany her home for the tea but he insisted on returning to the Club. Audrey knew that he would go straight to the piano and play the most doleful tune he was capable of. She was envious that he had a means of venting his emotions, she longed to convert the agony of her soul into beautiful music but all she could do was cry. She watched him leave, then wrapping her coat about her she hurried home through the icy gale feeling as hollow as a husk.

She looked about her at the bare winter trees and the pale, watery sky and remembered how Isla had cared little for the beauty of Nature. She had barely seemed to notice it. And yet they had understood each other perfectly in spite of the vast differences that would have divided other siblings. She recalled her sense of fun and her wicked humour, the interest she took in the intrigues of other people’s lives and how she longed to whip them all up into a lather of indignation. Well, she had certainly whipped everyone up today, but not in the way that she would have intended. As Audrey gazed upon the craggy old trees she thought of Isla, eternally young, while she and the rest of the living would slowly grow old.

Isla’s image dominated Audrey’s thinking, squeezing out any thoughts of Louis like a mischievous cuckoo. As much as Louis’ demands had unsettled her she didn’t have enough energy to dedicate to him and his heartbreak. She felt numb and raw and very, very tired. All she wanted to do was curl up beneath the covers of her bed and sleep her way out of her misery. It had been unfair of Louis to try to force her hand when she was so obviously distracted. If she had had more strength she would have felt anger, but all she could muster was a frail disappointment.

She arrived home to find Cecil anxiously waiting for her. The sitting room resonated with the sombre voices of friends and family who had come to give solace to Rose and Henry but Audrey couldn’t face them; instead she allowed Cecil to accompany her into the garden. It was dark and the garden lay still and frozen and unforgiving as if in protest at Isla’s death. Audrey couldn’t imagine a spring without her and her heart was filled once again with an aching sadness. ‘Oh Cecil, I feel so desperate,’ she said as they walked beneath the black, starless sky. ‘The pain of the soul is so much worse than the pain of the body. I can’t imagine I’ll ever heal.’ She hung her head and her face crumpled again with grief. Cecil, overcome with pity, turned and drew her into his arms. Audrey was too tired to resist. To her surprise it was just what she needed and she let her head rest against his chest and her body derive some comfort from his warm and protective embrace. He held her there and let her vent her anger and sorrow into the icy wind until she had no more strength to cry.

‘You two were closer than any siblings I’ve ever known. It’s like losing your right arm, isn’t it?’ Cecil said in a gentle voice. Audrey nodded and sniffed. ‘Death is a tragedy even in the old,’ he continued. ‘But at least they have lived a full life, dear Isla was still a child with all her life in front of her. It makes me spit with anger. At times like this I wonder if there is a God.’ Audrey was surprised to hear Cecil speak with such passion.

‘I believe in God. It was Isla’s time to go,’ she replied. ‘I know she’s in Heaven. I really believe that. I shall miss her so much, that’s all. I can’t imagine life without her. I’m crying for myself.’

‘You won’t be without her. If you believe she’s in Heaven, then she’s a spirit, as Louis would say, and she’ll be with you in spirit.’ Audrey thought of Louis and felt guilty for allowing herself to be comforted so intimately by his brother. But then she remembered Louis’ inappropriate demands and his selfish behaviour that made Cecil’s sympathy all the more touching.

‘I can’t marry you, Cecil,’ she said without thinking. ‘My heart is elsewhere.’ Cecil patted her back and smiled. ‘Of course you can’t and your heart shouldn’t be anywhere else but here with Isla. I understand, my dear Audrey. You shouldn’t even be thinking of it. My proposal couldn’t be further from my thoughts. At a time like this? Do you really take me for a heartless fool?’