Page 267 - The Midnight Library
P. 267
www.urdukutabkhanapk.blogspot.com
www.urdukutabkhanapk.blogspot.com
moderate depression, spiced up with occasional flourishes of despair. And
that gave her hope, and even the sheer sentimental gratitude of being able to
be here, knowing she had the potential to enjoy watching radiant skies and
mediocre Ryan Bailey comedies and be happy listening to music and
conversation and the beat of her own heart.
And it was different because, above all other things, that heavy and
painful Book of Regrets had been successfully burnt to dust.
‘Hi Nora. It’s me, Doreen.’
Nora was excited to hear from her, as she had been in the middle of neatly
writing a notice advertising piano lessons. ‘Oh Doreen! Can I just apologise
about missing the lesson the other day?’
‘Water under the bridge.’
‘Well, I’m not going to go into all the reasons,’ Nora continued,
breathlessly. ‘But I will just say that I will never be in that situation again. I
promise, in future, should you want to continue with Leo’s piano lessons, I
will be where I am meant to be. I won’t let you down. Now, I totally
understand if you don’t want me to be Leo’s piano teacher any more. But I
want you to know that Leo is an exceptional talent. He has a feel for the
piano. He could end up making a career of it. He could end up at the Royal
College of Music. So, I would just like to say if he doesn’t continue his
lessons with me, I want you to know that I feel he should continue them
somewhere. at’s all.’
ere was a long pause. Nothing but the fuzzy static of phone-breath.
en:
‘Nora, love, it’s okay, I don’t need a monologue. e truth is we were in
town yesterday, the two of us. I was buying him some facewash and he said,
“I’m still going to do piano, right?” Right there in Boots. Shall we just kick
off where we le off next week?’
‘Seriously? at’s amazing. Yes, next week then.’
And the moment Nora came off the phone she sat at the piano and played
a tune that had never been played before. She liked what she was playing,
and vowed to remember it and put some words to it. Maybe she could turn
it into a proper song and put it out there online. Maybe she would write
more songs. Or maybe she would save up and apply for a Master’s. Or
maybe she would do both. Who knew? As she played, she glanced over and