Gillian shifted uncomfortably, as she had spoken for a long
time, too long actually, and some of the younger children had nodded off to
sleep. Some of the others had gone out to the hall to play quietly with their
dollies and cars.
"I've gone on too long my dears," She patted the
heads of the older children around her, "I think its time for lunch now...
what is for lunch, hmm?” She smiled her big warm smile and patted her bulging
stomach.
"Mum, will you do one more thing for us?" Her
daughter's smiled and nodded, "…will you play for us?"
Gillian smiled and sighed, nodding her head.
"Oh, alright, but I shouldn’t be doing this!" Her
little grandson Peter brought her the violin case, it was an old, worn, dull
and scuffed maroon leather case. But inside the violin was in immaculate
condition. She looked at it lovingly and ran her finger along its surface. It
was strange that no matter how ill she had become in the past few years her
fingers had remained supple and slender enough to play.
"What am I going to play for you?" She looked
around at the sea of faces, finally little Peter piped up,
"Play Ver... Ver… Ver-mouldy" He smiled and his
chest puffed up with pride, at being able to remember such a difficult name.
"Ok, Vivaldi it is then!" And with a flourish she
broke into an amazing arranged rendition of The Four Seasons. When she finished
with a majestic sweep of her bow they all broke into applause.
They had their lunch out on the porch, cold meats, salad and
fresh fruit were the doctor’s orders. Afterwards, Gillian walked through the
passage towards her bedroom. She stopped to look at the photographs along the
wall, she stared long and hard at a black and white photo of a beautiful young
woman on stage, holding her violin to her chest. The girl was laughing and
holding up a bouquet of roses that she had just caught. For an instant she
heard the roar of the crowd and her heart skipped a beat.
"I can’t believe that that was me" She turned to
her oldest daughter Dawn, who had come alongside her.
"You are still you Mum. You’re the greatest. Don't
forget it."
The next morning the troops were already assembled for the
story when Gill lumbered downstairs. She smiled and sat heavily in her seat.
"Hurry up Granny!" Peter was perched at her knee,
his face desperate.
"Ok... here it goes"
xxx
"One morning Joel arrived for his music lesson with a
gift, it was quite large and wrapped in brown paper. There was a letter
attached to it sealed with blue wax.
When his lesson was finished he made his way through the house; he found
Deliah and asked if she knew where Esme was. Deliah’s round face flushed deep
crimson and through giggles she informed him that Esme was inside the hen
house. He thanked her and after planting
a huge kiss on her cheek, walked briskly outside, across the courtyard through
the vegetable garden and to the hen house.
There he found Esme, kneeling on the ground stroking one of the old
hens. He ventured up behind her and
placed the package on the floor, he looked around to see if they were being
observed, as he stepped forward Esme heard the sound of his tread and turned
around to look at who was approaching her.
She smiled up at him and lifted her hand, he reached out and took hers,
helping her to her feet. He drew her
hand to his lips, and was about to bestow a kiss upon it when she started to
laugh.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Sir" She lifted
her hand to show him - that where he was about to lay his kiss was speckled
white and grey with hen’s excrement, he chuckled.
"Why thank you Esme, allow me to escort you to the
water trough" They walked with arms linked, where Esme cleaned her hands.
He drew out of his coat pocket, a new white handkerchief and presented it to
her. She cleaned her hands and then preceded to hand it back to him. He refused it. Their eyes locked for an
instant and they stood still, staring into the other’s open face. Joel moved to
say something but found no words, Esme looked down and smiled.
"My dear… there is something that I have for you...
would you follow me please... Madame" He escorted her over to the parcel,
which lay just outside of the hen house.
He asked her to follow him to the rose garden, which had become one of
their favourite haunts. She followed him
not quite sure of what he had in mind, she had never received a gift before. He
led her along the garden path, which was completely hidden, from the manor
house. They passed the beautiful grey stone water fountain, the water had once
risen from an underground spring but with the passing years it had ceased to
flow. When they reached the rose garden he walked her over to the intricately
carved rose arbour seat which was covered completely by a climbing rose, and
requested that she sit down. The pink scented blossoms hung over their heads and
the garden buzzed with the hum of a thousand insects, which made their home
there. When she was seated he placed the package beside her. He stood back and cleared his throat.
"My dear Esme, on our first encounter, you mentioned
that music touched your soul... then at a later date, you mentioned having
approached Rupert about being tutored in the art of playing violin. Well, I have not forgotten the sound… nor
should I say tone in your voice and the look in your eyes whenever you mention
music. So I have decided, that something should be done... open it Esme"
She opened the letter slowly, not wanting to break the wax
seal, the letter was written in a beautiful script.
Dearest Esme,
My very dear friend, how quickly these last few months have
flown by. Your unwavering friendship and support have meant so much to me. I
have decided that your love of music needs to be realised and so... I have
purchased you something to help you do just this... Please accept this gift...
it is yours Esme, to do with what you will.
Joel McKinnon
She hesitated and tentatively opened the brown paper, inside
was a leather violin case, maroon tinted and polished to a shimmer. She slowly
opened the case and gasped as she lifted out a beautiful brand new violin.
"It is brand new Esme... never been played by anyone
except the maker." He took it from her and tightened the strings. He then
tightened the bow for her and after applying resin to the hair, placed the
violin on her shoulder. She looked at him with tears in her eyes.
"It's beautiful Joel... Mr. McKinnon. Thank you, but...
I cannot play." She looked into her lap and let the violin slide off her
shoulder.
"Esme... there is method in my madness today, look
inside the case... please." She lifted the lid and looked inside again;
there was the corner of a sheet of music sticking out of one of the
compartments. She pulled it out and gasped again.
"It’s music notes Mr. McKinnon!..." She turned
them over and saw neatly drawn graphs.
"I've drawn the position of the arm, hands, and
fingers, head... whatever I could think of to help you get started. You must
promise me you will read these notes at night or when ever you can..."
"Oh, I Promise!"
"When you have read them and practiced what I've
written, then we can take your music lessons a step further..."
"Really Sir...?" She impulsively threw her arms
around his neck and they sat still for an eternity, Joel’s arms slowly rose and
encircled her, drawing her to him in an embrace. They did not move, the only
sound was their breathing and the garden alive around them. Esme withdrew
suddenly, tucking her hair behind her ear,
“I apologise.” She folded the notes neatly and placed them
inside her pinafore as he stood up.
"Thank you... Sir, I... never imagined that I would
own..." He noticed a tear trickle down her cheek and wiped it away for
her, letting his hand linger on her cool skin, she looked up at him and time
stood still while she let her eyes drift across his chiseled handsome face,
lingering on his kind eyes. Her heart jumped in her chest and she smiled shyly.
"I have to go Esme, I'm expected back home, they will
send out a search party soon!” She laughed and placed her new treasure
delicately back into its case.
"Oh and Esme... If anyone gives you any trouble about
that violin, there's a note in the case that clarifies everything."
"Thank you again Mr. McKinnon."
She watched him walk back down the path and then sat back
with a sigh holding her new possession to her chest.
"Would you leave me be!" Robert screamed as he ran
down the stairs, the ancient Mrs. Dodd was hot on his heels waving her feather
duster about in the air.
"You filthy boy!... you have worn that outfit for a
number of days now and if it kills me you will change clothes and draw a bath
today!" Robert hid in a small crevice behind the wall clock and let her
bustle by, when she rounded a corner he ran out of the entrance and down the
garden path. He slowed down as he got
closer to the rose garden, a smile spread over his face,
"Esme... how good to see you... looking a little
flushed today my dear…" He sauntered up to her, looking around to make
sure he wasn't being followed and wouldn't be seen.
"Master Robert, please do not give me any trouble, I'm
expected in the kitchen." She swallowed hard and kept walking towards the
house, her eyes cast downwards.
"And what may I ask is this?..." He snatched at
her violin case, and moved quickly away from Esme, tears welled in her eyes and
she strained to keep her voice calm.
"It's a violin Master Robert" She kept herself
steady. "I really am due back Sir, may I have the violin?..." She
knew he would not return it, he would rather destroy it. Suddenly she heard a
loud rasping voice and the sound of laboured breathing.
"Robert Rupert Edgar-Harrison get yourself out of the garden
and changed young man!..." Robert cursed under his breath and without
thinking shoved the violin into Esme's arms, he rushed off in the direction of
the hen house. Moments later Mrs. Dodd came rushing by with her feather duster
in the air, she stopped in front of Esme, leaning on her for support. Tendrils
of sweat drenched hair fell over her forehead, her breath reeked of garlic and
Esme felt light-headed in the centre of it.
"He seemed to be going to the hen house Mrs.
Dodd." The harried lady thanked her, and lumbered off in pursuit of her
charge.
Time passed and Esme learned the notes that Mr. McKinnon had
given her off by heart. He had warned her not to practice where she could be
heard or seen. She would walk every day to the old barn on the edge of the
Thorngate Estate. No one had used the building for some time, and so she was
assured of her privacy and safety. The only way she could hide her violin was
to wear her huge cumbersome winter coat with the violin concealed within it. No
one had questioned her and surprisingly Robert seemed to have forgotten about
the incident. Esme soon realised that it was his state of constant inebriation
that kept his memory at bay.
Joel had supplied her with some scores of music, works by
Mozart, Vivaldi and others. They were all written out in his beautiful delicate
script. She learned to play them all and waited patiently for a chance to show
him. As does happen when people are busy, Joel and Esme had very little time
together. Whenever they had a spare moment he would cock his head
questioningly, and she would smile back nodding hers - just to let him know
that she was practicing, he had no idea how hard.
She was quite surprised one day when after his lesson Joel
approached her and handed her a slip of paper. She walked calmly to the base of
the stairs, to the corner of the landing where she had first hidden from him.
Once again she saw the beautiful handwriting:
E,
Would you please meet me at the rose arbour seat.
I would very much like to hear you play.
J M
She held the note to her fluttering chest and smiled
broadly, looking around to see if anyone had seen her reading it. The house was
deserted, all of the staff had gone to town with Dawn to do the winter shopping
but Esme had volunteered to stay behind. She ran to the place where her violin
was hidden and then ran on, to the kitchen to get her overcoat.
As she walked down the path to the rose arbour she could not
stop her heart from racing. Joel stood when he saw her approaching, and a smile
lit up his beautiful face.
"Esme!" He stepped forward, took a firm hold of
her free hand and kissed it. She blushed and smiled shyly.
"Mr. McKinnon."
They made their way along the back path to the old barn.
Joel was amazed that she had found the place. He was even more surprised when
he saw how she had made the interior just perfect. The floor was cleared of
debris, there was an old chair in the centre and she had fashioned a music
stand out of an old plowing instrument.
"This place is simply charming Esme." He turned
around taking it all in "You truly are a wonder!"
She blushed again and slowly took the violin out of the
case.
"I am quite nervous. I've never played for anyone
before..." She sat on the chair and placed the violin on her lap. She
resin'd the bow and tightened it slowly and methodically.
"Play me your favourite piece Esme." He sat on a
low crudely made chair and clasped his hands before him.
"My favourite piece does not have a name; there is
nothing on the sheet music to say who composed it either." She looked at
him.
"That's alright Esme, as long as it’s your favourite.
Oh... and have you managed to find any other pieces to play?... that might have
been lying around the house?" He cocked his head in his sweet manner.
"No, I have only the pieces that you gave me." He
smiled and nodded.
She started to play, and as she did he closed his eyes and
felt as though the music were lifting him up into the air. The notes were
exactly as he'd imagined them to be, sweet and smooth, lilting, tragic. Tears
filled his eyes and he did not bother to wipe them away. Esme finished off with
a long drawn out note before placing the bow in her lap and bowing her head.
There was absolute silence, only the muffled scratching of birds and mice in
the rafters of the barn.
"That was, possibly, the most beautiful thing I have
ever heard." He looked up at her slowly. She sighed and looked at him
directly folding her hands over the violin.
"Esme... I have to confess. It was I who wrote that
song."
She blinked hard and swallowed, looking confused.
"I wrote it for you, it's called Esme's Song." He
sighed as another slow tear rolled off his cheek and into the folds of his silk
cravat.
"You wrote that for me?" She was dumbstruck. First
the violin, and now this beautiful music. She did not know what to say. He rose
and walked toward her, reaching out to her. She placed the violin back in its
case and took his hand. When she stood, he bowed low to her, looking up,
"My dear Esme, you are royalty to me. It is an honour
to know you.”
That night as she lay in her bed, she had to pinch her side,
just to stop herself from laughing out loud for joy. She was falling in love.
For the next few weeks she did not see Joel at all, he was
in Italy, playing with the orchestra. She missed him terribly and was constantly
listening in on the master’s conversations, hoping to find out when he would be
returning to Thorngate.
One day Mrs. Edgar-Harrison had invited some ladies to a tea
in the rose garden. The weather was just perfect, an assortment of birds sang
in the lush trees and a myriad of insects hummed in the lazy warmth of
mid-morning. Esme had volunteered to serve them their tea. She was serving the
freshly baked carrot cake when she overheard the three of them talking, trying
not to appear interested she stayed nearby.
"Have you heard of the scandal Mrs.
Edgar-Harrison?" Mrs. Whittaker looked at Dawn, "That Crompton boy
has run off with a servant girl, can you just imagine?" She fussed with
her handkerchief, pushing it around in her ample lap.
"When did this happen?" Widow Cornwall enquired.
"Last week, the family is in shame... mourning more
like, apparently she worked in the kitchen and has known him since they were
both children but that is no excuse. There is such a thing as class and people
should remain in their class... don’t you agree?" She grimaced as she took
a huge mouthful of the orange coloured cake.
"Well..." Widow Cornwall moved to speak; she had
pieces of cake stuck in the gaps of her front teeth "All I know is that
there are standards to be upheld. Servants marry servants and Noblemen must
marry women of breeding." Mrs. Whittaker took a mouthful of cake and
nodded.
"That boy will never be accepted anywhere. No bank will
deal with him and certainly no good minded businessmen will hire him or work
for him." They all shook their heads slowly.
"He has been disinherited you know" Mrs. Whittaker
smiled sadly "…and as unfortunate as it sounds; that is the choice that he
made when he ran off with that girl."
After the tea party, Esme was released to go back to her
chores. She had a heavy heart and all she could think of was...
"Joel..."
She surprised herself by saying his name out loud and more
than that his Christian name, what if someone had heard her? She quickly went
back to work, putting Mr. Joel McKinnon out of her head.
He returned from Italy, looking tanned and healthy. It had
been requested that he return in a month or so, to start a nation wide tour
with the orchestra. It was what all concert violinists wanted, hoped and
dreamed of. The tour would keep him abroad for nearly two years and he was
incredibly excited. After his lesson he walked out onto the front lawn and took
a deep breath of air, it was so good to be home.
He saw Esme walking around the back of the mansion and
walked quickly to catch up with her.
"Esme!..." He stumbled towards her eagerly,
"Esme, I'm back and there’s so much I wish to tell you!" He reached
her and moved to take her hand playfully. She withdrew it before he could kiss
it. Her saddened eyes were downcast.
"Whatever's the matter Esme?" His face looked
worried. "Has Robert done anything to you? I'll kill him if he has!"
"It's not Rob, Mr. McKinnon... it's nothing, I am glad
you are back." She managed a smile and then turned to walk away from him.
He was disappointed by her reaction and tried to speak to her again, but she
avoided him as much as possible. It was hard when he made an effort to find her
whenever he was there.
The day before he was set to leave she went to the kitchen
and Rosalyn handed her a note. Deliah was behind her giggling and staring with
bright mischievous eyes, to see Esme's reaction, but Esme's expression was
masked.
"It's for you. I can't read but Smithson says that's
your name there" Rosalyn pointed at the writing on the folded note. The
blue wax seal was unbroken.
"Thank you Rosalyn." She took the note and placed
it inside her pinafore.
When she finished work she drew the note out and gingerly
opened it, afraid to see what it contained,
My Darling Esme,
While I was away in Italy
I had a moment of realisation.
Please would you meet me?
You know where.
Tonight, please Esme,
I will wait for you.
Please come.
Joel
It was already quite late, she put on her coat and walked
outside, it was getting colder every day as winter was approaching. The frost
crunched underfoot as she walked along the familiar path. The moonlight shone
in the garden. Esme walked out into the light and looked around her, her breath
made clouds of steam in front of her, her heart was racing. She heard a noise
behind her and turned around,
"Hello Esme... I was beginning to think you'd never
come" Joel was standing in the shadows and when he stepped out into the
light she could see that he was icy cold.
"I've been waiting for you Esme... I'm nearly frozen
through" He stepped towards her and she spun away, walking from him.
"We cannot and must not be seen together Mr. McKinnon,
the consequences could be..."
She turned to look at him and her breath caught in her
throat as he was surely, the most beautifully created being she had ever seen,
he saw the look on her face and rushed forward grabbing her wrists with his
hands,
"Esme, I love you! I love everything about you, you
fill my thoughts by day and my dreams by night...” The pain shone from his
eyes, “I love you! And I will love you for ever... I can not be apart from
you!" He took a deep ragged breath
"…if you would only allow it."
She pulled herself from his embrace and stepped back again.
"Mr. McKinnon... I am a just a servant who love’s
you... but you are a gentleman. If we were to be together you would be shunned
by everyone... I just could not be the reason for it... you would eventually
regret it and blame me and…"
"I do not care Esme!..." He looked up in
frustration and ran his hands through his hair, "You are the reason that I
live... you are the air that I breathe, the beating of my now so suddenly
vulnerable heart!..." He reached out and gently stroked her cool cheek
feeling the wetness of tears, he spoke softly now, almost a whisper:
"Esme... when I play my music it is you that I think
of... no one else!" She looked down and placed her hand achingly over his.
"Mr. McKinnon... Joel, I am a servant! Command me and I
will serve you. Enslave me if you will, I promise I will serve you faithfully
all the days of my life but I could do no more than that!..."
Joel sighed and looked about him for the words to say,
"I do not wish for you to serve me, nor do I care to
command you!... Esme... I wish for you to marry me!" He knelt down on the
damp floor and took her hand in his, he looked up at her and her head was
reeling. "Esme... as you know, I am leaving tomorrow, my music will take
me around the world. I would be so honoured to take you with me... Esme will
you marry..."
Esme wrenched herself from his presence and ran blindly
through the garden, her sobs threatened to choke the life from her. She could
not marry the man she adored; it would not be well received. His career would
be over before it began, as she had plainly overheard; men who married beneath
them were not accepted with much grace…
The week after Joel left was one of the hardest weeks of
Esme's young life. She hid her tears at night by pressing her face into her
pillow. She hardly smiled and went about her duties silently, she was a ghost
of her former self, but in her heart she knew that she had saved the man she
loved from societies ruin.
It became increasingly evident that young Robert had a
problem with alcohol. Mrs. Dodd was the first to notice and brought it to the
attention of everyone else in the house.
"That Robert is ne’good Sir, he does ne’work, he has
not furthered his studies in any field and he is a lazy... well… arse! Sir" She was red in the face
and didn't care that she was talking to the master of the house; she would have
spoken her mind to the King himself if His Majesty had been there.
"Mrs. Dodd!" Rupert roughly pushed back his huge
desk chair and walked to the window, "Now that is enough! This is my house
and I will not be spoken to in that way." Rupert was distressed. Not so
much by what Mrs. Dodd had said but by the truth of it all.
"Master, when you were younger... and you misbehaved, I
used t’give you a sound hidin’... thass all this boy needs... God knows he
deserves it well!" She was puffing and panting.
Robert had taken the cooking spirits from the pantry and run
off with them, Mrs. Dodd had chased him down to the end of the drive until her
weight and age combined prevented her from catching him. He would be back later
to create trouble for them all with his drunkenness.
"Master... he nearly took Miss Deliah's 'innocence' the
other night," She blushed a little and looked away from Rupert, only to
swing her face towards him again with anger in her eyes, "if I hadn’t
heard her cries I might've been te’late to save her. I had to beat him off her
with a half sack o’corn!"
Rupert shuffled his sheet music; this was not the behaviour
he had expected from his eighteen year old son. Excessive drinking and now
attempted rape were just intolerable.
"I will see to it Mrs. Dodd." He nodded to
himself, something had to be done.
When Robert came home he was in a drunken state. From what
he boasted, he had managed to gamble some gold coins out of someone less sober
than he was. He had then spent every
penny at the local tavern on loose women and cheap rum. Rupert confronted him
at the entrance hall and told him to sit down but Robert lunged at him and
gripped him in a bear hug, almost dragging Rupert to the floor.
"You know Father..." His words were so slurred
that they were hardly discernible.
"I really love you but..." He staggered a bit and
turned to face his father so that his mouth was right by Rupert's ear. The
stench of his breath was overpowering. "One day when you die - and I hope
that's soon..." He swallowed heavily, gesturing with a dirty loopy hand at
the house around him. "I'm going to
get rid of this dump..." He pulled back to stare his father in the face,
"and then... I'm going to..."
At that point he passed out. They carried his limp dirty
body upstairs where Mrs. Dodd undressed him and put him to bed. As she tucked
him in she bent and looked down at him, stroking back his hair. He stirred and
muttered some obscenity that only she could hear, her lined face dropped and
she rose abruptly, leaving the room.
The next morning Rupert called for Robert to meet him in the
drawing-room. Robert had a terrible headache and was not feeling well at all.
When he walked in he threw himself onto the sofa, lounging back with his hands
folded over his stomach and a smirk on his face.
"Well Father... what is it, I've got a busy day
planned."
"Busy doing what Robert?" Rupert sat at his desk
with his pipe in his mouth.
"Busy Father, I have some errands I have to do."
He took a deep breath and looked around the room, bored already.
"What errands Robert?" Rupert was annoyed and
straightened up to smooth out the front of his satin waistcoat.
"Nothing that concerns you, Father."
Sleazy Robert took a deep breath and looked his father in
the eye.
"Your drinking is becoming a problem Robert. If you
wish to continue as you are… I will be forced to take action!" Robert
stared back at his father, unblinking, and then burst out laughing,
"What action will you be 'forced' to take Father? Tie
me down? Keep me locked in my room like some depraved animal?" He wiped
the tears away from the corners of his eyes.
"Yes."
There was silence as father and son eyed each other from
across the room.
"You wouldn’t dare." A challenge.
"Yes. I would." Absolute unwavering certainty.
Robert stood up and stormed out of the room, he turned at
the door.
"I am going out to run my errand, don't anger me
Father. You don’t know who you are dealing with." He marched out leaving
Rupert with his blood running icy cold through his veins. Robert would not
return for over a week, after that they hardly saw him. It was soon after that
Rupert fell ill. He was playing in his studio one morning when he doubled over
and fell to the floor. Esme was the first to find him and sent Smithson for the
doctor. The doctor told them that Rupert’s heart sounded weak and that he was
confined to bed with little exercise. It was like a death sentence to him
because he had always loved sitting in his music room, walking around the
grounds and riding with his dogs.