She put the frame down and sat on the piano stool, resting her fingers once again on the keys. Slowly at first, but then with increasing clarity she began to hear the familiar tune of Louis’ gentle spirit reaching her from some far distant place where they were still able to meet and relive those moments of extraordinary tenderness.
Suddenly a bright light shone into her face. She flinched and opened her eyes. ‘Oh, it is you,’ said Marcel, switching off the torch. Audrey blinked through the darkness. ‘I am sorry, I didn’t know. I thought you were a thief,’ he continued gravely. His accent seemed heavier than usual. She placed her hand on her heart which was hopping about like a startled mouse. She felt she had been caught doing something wicked.
‘That’s all right,’ she whispered. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’
‘It is dark, n’est-ce pas?’ he said, leaning against the piano. As her eyes adjusted she could make out that he was wearing a long dressing gown and slippers. Feeling vulnerable in only a cotton nightdress and cardigan she folded her arms in front of her chest.
‘Yes,’ she replied, staring down at the keyboard.
‘When I first came to the countryside the nights were so dark and Cicely wouldn’t have the lights on, that I thought it was the end of the world.’
‘I know how you feel,’ she replied and chuckled uneasily.
‘When I cannot sleep, I paint.’
‘In the dark?’
‘I light a candle. Candlelight is always more romantic anyhow.’
‘What do you paint?’
Marcel shrugged the way Frenchmen do, pouting and raising his palms to the ceiling. ‘Anything that moves me.’
‘Cicely?’
He looked at her steadily and then a small smile curled the corners of his mouth.
‘For whom do you play?’
‘For myself,’ she replied carefully.
‘You play with emotion,’ he stated.
‘You haven’t heard me play,’ she said and laughed nervously.
‘Oh, but I have. This afternoon the melody rose up to my studio in the attic and I paused to listen. I recognized the tune, but could not remember where I had heard it before.’
Audrey caught her breath ‘It is late and I’m tired,’ she said, getting up. ‘I think I’ll go to bed now.’
‘Of course. And I am too tired to paint,’ he replied in a whisper. ‘I will show you to your room so you don’t stumble.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, following him as he led the way with the torch.
‘You’ll get used to the darkness, in time it will cease to frighten you but will comfort you. After all, one cannot hide one’s secrets in the light of day.’
Audrey closed the door of her room behind her and leant back against it. She found Marcel very creepy, as if he could read her thoughts. She bit her lip anxiously. If he had heard her playing that afternoon he would have recognized the same tune that Louis had played because, according to Cicely, he had driven them all mad with it. She knew the way she played gave her feelings away and Marcel wasn’t a fool. He appeared to have worked it all out in one afternoon. She sighed wearily and walked over to the bed. Before she got in she noticed a small lump beneath the sheets. It stirred and stretched, then rolled over. Leonora opened her eyes dreamily. ‘Where have you been?’ she asked softly, without taking her head off the pillow.
‘Darling, are you afraid of the dark?’ Audrey asked, getting in beside her and gathering her into her arms.
‘Yes,’ the child replied. ‘And I’m scared of going to boarding school. I want to stay here with you and Aunt Cicely. I like Aunt Cicely and Barley.’
‘I know, my love, and I wish you could stay here too. But you have to be a big girl. You’ll love it when you get there.’
‘I know, I’m just being silly.’
‘No, you’re not being silly and I understand completely. You’re going to have to be very brave and so am I, because I’m going to miss you too. But sleep now, my love, and your fears will have gone in the morning.’
Leonora snuggled up against her mother and Saggy Rabbit and Audrey switched off the light. She relished the warm feel of her daughter’s body pressed tightly against hers and remembered Leonora as a baby, when a seamless future stretched out in front of them, before it was marred with the dread of separation. But now she wouldn’t witness her growing up, not the small changes that happen day to day. She wouldn’t be there to help with schoolwork, to wrap her arms around her when she was afraid or felt hard done by. She listened to her breathing and smelt the soft scent of soap that mingled with the fragrance of childhood. Her face was warm and soft and each time she kissed it Leonora nestled closer in her sleep, safe and secure in her mother’s embrace. But Audrey remained awake. At first she thought about Isla, how they had often slept like two puppies, limb carelessly draped over limb. Then she thought about Louis, but she was unable to forget her strange confrontation with Marcel. She blinked into the night and went over what he had said. He can’t really have believed her to be a thief because he would have seen the light on in her room. He must have deliberately come to find her.