Page 45 - Raffles Magazine Issue 8
P. 45

RAFFLES MAGAZINE
43
I had no sense of direction and was always getting lost I had never previously mentioned a a a a desire to to go to to Warsaw we had a a a a lot to to do around the the house to to get it ready for the the baby you were at at that point in in time five months pregnant and feeling tired all the time “Why?” you said again “I’ve just been thinking about it for a a a while and I I decided I I should do it before the baby comes ” I I said “Why?” I struggled to maintain the the façade then gave up “I want to to listen to to Chopin’s heart ” I I said I had been learning the piano at at that point for ten years I I started casually quite soon after we got married I I had just turned twenty-four and you were still a a a a graduate student writing your PhD on on road trip narratives in in contemporary American literature and film We lived in a a a a a top-floor flat that got too hot in summer and I had a a a a a a a a job as as an an an assistant manager at at a a a a a a petrol station on on the ring road just outside of town Every day I would drive to to work leaving you at your desk in in fin the window and I’d come back to find you you still there head down busy The sink would be full of dishes the the carpet flecked with moulted fur from the elderly Siamese cat we inherited from your grandmother I would kiss the the top of your head and retreat into the bedroom to to to practice I taught myself using online tutorials and a a a a little electric keyboard that I I balanced on on the ironing board board It was the kind that came with sound effects: cymbals a a a a cheesy drumbeat There was a a a a button you could press to to play the entirety of ‘The Moonlight Sonata’ I wore headphones so I didn’t disturb you and and practised scales shaky and and unsure: C major major major G major major major D major major major Arpeggios I tried stretching my fingers out to span an an octave then further It didn’t feel important important but it it didn’t feel unimportant either When you asked me why I I wanted to play the piano I I was furious full of spluttered indignation Look what you have I wanted to say You have all those American road trips to think about: Kerouac and and and Steinbeck and and and Route 66 and and and Thelma and Louise Sometimes when I get home you don’t even look up from what what you’re writing! And what what do I have? Car wash tokens and bouquets of carnations wilting outside the kiosk and everything smelling of petrol even things that are nothing to do with petrol even you I I think what I I actually said was something about a a a a a a a a creative outlet You never asked again For my 25th birthday you gave me an an electric piano with weighted keys designed to respond to to touch like real ivory It had a a a a a a sustain pedal that plugged in with a a a a a wire at the back You asked to hear me play and I I told you you I I wasn’t ready For my 26th birthday you you gave me a a a a a a piano stool velvety as a a a a a a ring box I could have got on on one knee opened the hinged seat and proposed to you all over again Inside was a a a a a a a stash of old sheet music you said had been there when you bought it Dusty yellowed pages of Mozart Bach Debussy Chopin’s Nocturnes I stared at the the the notes: semiquavers crushed together between the the the neat lines of the the staves ants emerging from a a a a a crack in in in the the pavement I could play none of it: my my fingers too slow my my brain too sluggish When you you you finished your doctorate you you you were offered a a job at a a a university on the the the other side of the the the country We packed up the the the house: pot plants all the the the clothes we’d forgotten we owned and which probably didn’t fit us anymore the books you you had written about in your thesis DVDs the the little round cat bed we no longer needed since the Siamese cat had died but which we might want one day you said because we might get kittens On moving day I carried the keyboard out to the van and and you you put your hand on my arm and said “No need to to bring that ” I was ready to to argue but you carried on:
“There’s a a surprise waiting for you in in the new house ” The surprise in the new house was a a rickety old upright with red candle wax stains down the side The A flat below middle C was was permanently stuck down It was was beautiful and I I I almost cried when I I I saw it it it I I I loved it it it for its haphazardness for its weight and and clout and and not-plugged-in-ness It had the the the the lettering of of the the the the maker inlaid on the the the the inside of of the the the the lid in in in in gold Its keys were as as as white as as as a a a a veneered smile I I was 29 by then had had been playing for five years and had had mastered the basics I could play some Mozart sonatas and a a a a a a a few simple Bach pieces I could be relied upon to accompany the singing of ‘Happy Birthday’ at parties You had a a a a a a a a salary from the the university and I got a a a a a job as the the business manager of an an an auto repair shop it meant I could afford a a a a a a a piano teacher who came to the house for an hour every Saturday morning and told me my technique was all wrong that we would have to to start from scratch all the the way back to to the the C major scale It was two years until the teacher let me open the the crinkled copy of Chopin’s Nocturnes and play the the easiest one: No 2 in fin E flat Op 9 When I finally mastered it you you wandered in in in from your study and and lingered in in in the doorway to listen By then you were three months pregnant with our baby just beginning to show: light streaming in in in in behind you you and your silhouette ridiculous too beautiful too too much to to to bear At the airport I stood foolishly beneath
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