Song for Emilia Page 16

  Tomorrow, she would say goodbye to the horses and Trix, Nick would put her suitcase in the back of the ute and they’d take the road into Curradeen. Aware of gathering tears, she patted a pocket of her dressing gown, searching for a handkerchief. As if Trix knew, the dog gave Sandra a nudge with her nose, a wag of the tail.

  Nick’s quiet voice brought Sandra back to the veranda.

  ‘Touch me like that,’ he said, ‘and I’ll never let you go home.’

  Cheeks burning, she felt the rapid drumming of her heart. ‘I may not want to go home,’ she confided, playing with his fingers. ‘I have to, of course, but I may not want to.’

  ‘Sandra?’

  She waited for him to speak, tried to fathom the question in his eyes.

  ‘Build my house with me, you and me, together... Marry me?’

  Unable to speak, she knew he could read her response, saw her happiness reflected in his face.

  Nick put his mug on the floor. Taking her hands in his, he kissed her forehead, her cheeks. ‘When I met you as a fourteen- year old girl,’ he said, ‘I never imagined you’d be standing here with me, like this—’ He lifted a strand of hair, let it slip silken through his fingers. ‘Darling, sweet Sandra ... I love you. I think I’ve always loved you.’

  His fingertips traced the line of her throat, her shoulders ... eyes closed, he stroked each arm, caressed her waist, her hips, as if sensing the elements of her body through the cloth, sunlight catching curves and shadows.

  Holding Nick’s face in her hands as she kissed him, she heard the quick intake of his breath; heard her own words – words she had once thought impossible to say:

  ‘Dearest, darling Nick,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve loved you forever.’

  And she knew it was perfect, it was natural, for them to be standing together like this, in the warmth of the early morning radiance.

  In the evening, leaving their dinner dishes in the sink, they sat on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, faces turned towards the veranda, the merest breeze. Trix with her nose on the step, still determined not to come inside.

  ‘This is like a new chapter, isn’t it?’ Sandra said. ‘A realization of everything you’ve ever wanted: living closer to Sydney—’

  ‘Closer to you.’ Nick kissed the back of her neck. ‘And when you want to be with me, you’ll be close to what you want and need – your studies, your own pathway.’

  For a while they sat quietly, fingers interlaced, breathing the familiar dry scent of the bush. Yes, all that was important, but so was her life with him. Their paths had criss-crossed down different ways and then entwined, just as Aunt Meredith said so long ago.

  ‘You’re my pathway, too.’ She kissed his mouth, loving his tenderness, the blaze of happiness. A few more hours – it was as if she could already hear the engines of the morning plane. Unbelievable to think she would never come to this house again, this home.

  The idea bloomed all of a sudden: ‘Guess what? I’m going to play the piano – one last time before I leave tomorrow.’

  Glimmer of light from a thin moon filtered across the veranda and through the study window. No need for a lamp, she could have played these pieces with her eyes shut.

  Opening the lid of the piano – Beth’s piano – a moment’s hesitation, her fingers suspended over the keys, thoughts swirling... first, Song for Emilia, because there’ll always be a place for Emmy in my life. We’ll see each other again, I promise. Calmly and surely, her fingers found the five-bar opening adagio leading to the melody, and in an instant and for this special evening, she changed the urgent crescendo chorus to a gentle ripple of quavers, until she’d twice-played all the notes of the melody ... this single variation, barely five singing minutes as it drifted soft as a breeze to the last quiet chords.

  With a glance at Nick, into the stillness of the room she began Winter’s Day. From the first notes, faces floated before her: Dear Beth, so unexpectedly ill ... Harry Morgan, lost now and always. Yesterday she’d ridden with Nick as far as the creek, since dried to stones, Honey walking obediently beside Toffee ... a sudden change in the beat: allegretto for two horses released and free, racing into the dusk, tails streaming ... and finally, eyes wet with unexpected tears, she played the cadence – reflection of the peace that lay across the house right this moment, the peace of midnight – Nick, motionless at the door, regarding her from across the darkening room.

  A grey dawn light crept into the bedroom. Sandra turned her head to see Nick’s sleeping form beside her, his dear face, one arm lying across her hip. She craned her neck to see the clock: the hands had stopped at 4.30. How much longer before they had to get up?

  With her small movement to draw up the sheet against the early morning cool, she felt something delicate slither across her neck, swiftly put a hand to her throat to stop whatever it was, touched the metallic trickle of a thin chain.

  At her involuntary flinch, Nick’s eyes opened. A slow smile, and he murmured, ‘Ah, you found it. You were so fast asleep you didn’t stir.’

  She held the pendant in her open palm, in the faint light saw an opal on a fine chain. Holding it to her cheek, she looked at Nick in wonder.

  ‘For the lady I love,’ he said. ‘From that shop you like in Rowe Street – black opal, white gold. When you told me you’d come in October, I took a chance—’

  She put her finger on his lips. ‘Nick, it’s the most beautiful thing ... I’ll always treasure it.’

  ‘And I’ll always treasure you, darling girl.’

  Faces flushed with sleep, they hugged each other, laughing at themselves in Nick’s baggy old singlets, Nick holding her almost unbearably close, heart against heart.

  ♫

  Finale:

  They didn’t speak on the drive to the airport under a clear morning sky: a light breeze, glint of silver on the plane as it made its final approach.

  Nick enfolded her in his arms, and Sandra bent her face into his shirt, cheek against his chest. He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, then long and lovingly he kissed her lips. Returning this sweet last kiss, she vowed, after today I’ll never say goodbye again, never ever ...

  ‘Please ring me now and then? I hate to think of you all alone with no one to help.’

  Nick touched his finger to a tear on her cheek. ‘I’ll be fine. Neighbours and friends will rally round. They won’t see me stuck.’

  The plane came to a halt, propellers slowly winding down. Sandra’s suitcase was already loaded onto the luggage cart. Only three other passengers this morning, so boarding would be quick.

  Her hands slipped free from his, but so hard to walk away. She turned to look back, engrave Nick’s image on her heart as he stood, felt hat tipped on its customary angle, one arm raised in farewell, solitary beside the ute.

  In the dazzle of sunrise, he’d whispered into her hair, ‘I think I’ve always loved you—’

  Her Nick Nick Nicholas Nick. Swallowing tears, Sandra waved a hand in response then stepped into the plane. The hostess motioned her to find a seat and the door clamped shut.

  She heard the increased power of the engines, propellers spinning invisibly as the plane turned to taxi along the runway.

  Notes

  El Rocco: Australia’s oldest jazz cellar, established in Kings Cross in 1955 by Arthur James

  A.Mus.A.: Associate Diploma in Music, Australia

  The Book of Lies, Aleister Crowley. Published London, 1913.

  ‘Do what thou wilt’: from The Book of Lies, Aleister Crowley.

  Toujours Fidèle: French perfume by D’Orsay (translation: Always Faithful)

  Billy Liar: 1963 film directed by John Schlesinger

  Misty: composed by Erroll Garner, 1954 (lyrics added later by Johnny Burke)

  Walk On By: song composed by Burt Bacharach, lyrics by Hal David, originally recorded by Dionne Warwick in 1964.

  Enrique Granados: Mazurka, from Escenas románticas (Eric L’estrange on piano at the party)

  Frédéric Chopin: Nocturn
e in C minor, Op.48, No.1

  Ludwig van Beethoven: Sonata No. 8 in C minor, Op. 13 (Pathétique)

  Camille Saint Saëns: Concerto No.4 in C minor, Op. 44