The Grand Piano (a short fiction story)

I received a letter from Derek, requesting me to come by the house some time in the near future to see if there were any items I was interested in. “After thorough deliberation with the Brighton family it was decided that a small selection of Elizabeth’s close friends and relatives will be invited to select some of her belongings for personal use”. I suspected there hadn’t been much deliberation with the family; by now, Lizzy had been gone longer than she’d ever been married to Derek and the Brightons had no doubt decided it was time to put an end to this shameful situation and get rid of Derek.
“As an acquaintance of the family”, the letter continued, I was part of the lucky few. Dereks adulatory manner dripped off of every word of the page and sent a shiver through my spine.

I was working in the garden when the mailman arrived. Jane hopscotched towards me, excited to bring me such a gift, and then ran back to join her father under the porch. I must have started crying when I read the letter, because Jane kept asking in a worried voice what was wrong with mommy. Little Rose joined in with the crying, startled by the confusion. Daniel threw a quick glance at the letter, took the girls away and let me pack my things. I hurried to the train, anxious Derek would somehow change his mind last minute and in a flush of decisiveness burn down the entire house.

I arrived at the gate of the villa that same afternoon, a little out of breath and flushed. I hadn’t been back since Lizzy’s dissapearance, but it still felt like coming home. I heard the familiar crackle of the gravel under my feet and the rustle of the trees as I walked down the driveway. The smile that formed on my lips froze instantly when the door opened and I looked straight into Dereks face. He looked at me disapprovingly, judging my unkept hair and the old shoes I hadn’t bothered to change for something more decent. In his eyes, I was still hardly more than a maid, even though I had married a notary. He opened his mouth for a comment, no doubt not a flattering one, but I interrupted:
‘I came as soon as I got your letter.’
Using my suitcase as a shield, I pushed him aside as I walked in. Taken aback, he followed me in.
‘Can I help you with…’
‘Don’t bother, I know my way around here.’
Lizzy and I had never bothered hiding our contempt for this pathetic excuse of a man and it still gave me pleasure to see how my lack of respect uneased him. With confident steps I walked through the hall, breathing in the memories. My steps could barely contain my excitement to be back. At the end of the hallway, just before the magnificent staircase, I saw the doors to the music room and suddenly felt a rush of emotion. I had to fight back my tears and gasped for breath. I knew I could not go in there with Derek breathing down my neck, hungry for any sign of weakness. I composed myself, took a deep breath and climbed the stairs. My suitcase was heavy, I wouldn’t normally carry it all the way up myself, but I refused to let Derek or any of the servants touch it. I forced myself to keep my breath steady and only started panting when I had locked the door to the guest room.

The next morning I came downstairs only when I knew he was gone. The entire morning I lingered in front of the music room. I examined every room, touching chairs and examining candleholders as if I had any interest in taking them with me, plucking up courage, but the dark wooden doors remained shut. It was almost unsettling how little had changed, as if Lizzy had left only yesterday and could come back any moment. Did Derek miss her, I wondered, or was he still afraid of her? I kept expecting to see her whenever I turned around. As long as I remained in the dining room and the parlor I could preserve my sanity, I could control my urge to call her name. I knew I would run into her and my memories would take over the moment I opened the doors to the music room.

It was a lovely sunny day. I waited until four in the afternoon, when I knew the sunlight would be perfect. I wanted this afternoon to be as much like my memories as possible. When the clock struck four I took a deep breath, pushed open the doors with both hands, locked them behind me and let the memories rush over me.

It’s a lazy afternoon in September. The doors to the garden are open, letting in the sounds of the ducks and geese in the pond and the smell of freshly cut grass. A breeze of air plays with the long white curtains, pushing them inside and pulling them back out. Dust particles dance in the sunbeams that paint golden stripes on the parquet floor. The large tropical plants rustle softly, the shadows of their leaves creating patterns on the walls and the sofa.

Lizzy plays the grand piano, it’s Chopin I think. She’s been trying to teach me to hear the difference between composers, but she’s the more musically talented. She’s wearing the green silk dress, the one with the low cut back, because she knows I love it. Her chestnut hair is loosely pinned up, but strings of curls have fallen out. My fingers follow the lines of her neck, her shoulders, her back. She smiles without looking away from her music sheets. She fits perfectly in this room, it’s like it’s made for her. She becomes one with the music, the smells and colors, until it is one delightfully lazy stream of happiness I don’t want to ever leave. This is where I feel happy. This is our world, this is where we are safe.

I sit down on the enormous sofa and watch her play. I know men often find her too plain, too flat chested, but I think she is gorgeous. Everything about her is so graceful and elegant. Every part of her body curls, from the lock of hair that falls over her face to her lips as she smiles and her fingers when she caresses me. Even the air seems to twirl around her as she moves. When Lizzy is done playing she lays down next to me on the sofa, her hair undone, the brown waves fanning out over the white velvet. I bend over and kiss her smile. We have an entire afternoon and no one to disturb us.

We know there is no future for us, that’s why we so desperately cling to every moment together. As soon as we lock the doors of the music room, we can pretend the real world doesn’t exist. We know we have to give in soon and marry a man, because that is how things go. We have to allow them to desecrate our bodies with their greedy eyes and always craving bodies. I’m convinced there are good men, nice men who might be able to care for me as much as Lizzy does, but Lizzy doesn’t believe it. The men her parents invite to tea on Sundays are mostly impressed with the Brighton’s fortune, not with her. She fights against her future with every fiber of her body.
‘I can’t’, she cries into my arms every time her parents firmly disapprove of her rejecting yet another candidate. She’s so fragile, so delicate. Maybe she’s right, I think, and she’s too fragile for a man’s hands. I can’t think of anything else to do than take her into my arms and kiss her hair.

And then one day we were caught. Derek Gatherby, son of a count in financial trouble and desperately looking for a more wealthy partner, had been visiting a few times and had noticed Lizzy would withdraw to the music room as soon as she could. Determined to speak to her alone he hid in the music room on his next visit. He was after her money, her body too perhaps, but clearly not her love. He knew he could ruin both of our lives by telling her parents; Lizzy would be send to the convent or the asylum and I, an orphan without title or money, would no doubt spend the rest of my life as a maid or worse. We would never see each other again. What else could we do? We cried and cursed and plotted to kill him, until one night, exhausted, Lizzy finally gave in.

The Brightons were clever enough to negotiate an extensive prenuptial agreement. The notary who was asked to write down the clauses was called Daniel. He was a friendly, quiet man who looked at me the way I looked at Lizzy. He always arrived at meetings earlier than necessary and asked me out for a walk to kill time. When after five walks he proposed to me I couldn’t think of a reason to say no.

When Lizzy saw my future was safe, the tables had turned. Within a few months of their marriage, Lizzy had Derek completely in her power. Now that his status was tied to hers, our secret was mostly a danger to him; he was terrified people would find out his wife preferred another woman over him. Lizzy could be a vixen if she wanted. She defied him by kissing me in front of him. We still spent entire days together in the music room without him being able to stop us. What could he do? Who could he complain to? To the outside world, there was nothing odd about the close friendship between the duchess of Brighton and the notary’s wife.

When Derek arrived back home it was already dark and I had myself under control again. The last traces of emotion I could still feel on my face weren’t visible in the dim light of the parlour. I had never felt at ease in this room. Boring, compulsory family meetings on Sundays, awkward high teas with eligible bachelors asking for Lizzy’s hand, that was what this room was made for. Everything oozed superficiality and discomfort. This was the part of the house where one smiled politely at one’s company from behind the rigid mask of etiquette. It seemed fitting I sat here with Derek, exchanging insincere civilities over our expensive tea and delicacies.

He awkwardly asked me about Daniel’s notary practice and his family’s health, topics he could not possibly have any interest in. I took the opportunity to elaborate on my blessings, to rub in his face how well my life had turned out despite all his efforts to ruin it. I gloated when I saw the little cracks in his mask of polite friendliness every time I mindlessly mentioned our stable marriage, our happy family, our good name in the neighborhood. Lizzy had sworn she’d never give him a child and she kept that promise. Every fiber in her body had resisted that intruder. I doubt he ever mourned for Lizzy herself, but when his wife had left him without an heir to secure the family’s fortune it had crushed his pride and confidence.

I had accepted long ago I would eventually lose her. She was too miserable to stay in that house, even though we saw each other frequently. Our love wasn’t the same, she was contaminated by his presence in her house and her body. It threw a bleak shadow over everything we did. Sometimes I wondered if she kissed me to kiss me or to annoy him. I knew she would one day run away or kill herself, and thank god she chose to do the first. She didn’t leave a message, but I received a letter from Paris after a few months. She gave me no address and implored me to not tell anyone where she was or go looking for her. I would have loved to tell her about Jane and Rose, but I respected her request and was satisfied with the letters I received every now and then.

By the end of the night Derek finally gathered his courage and asked me if there were any items I would like to have. I pretended to hesitate, but I already knew that I only wanted the grand piano. I had known it since I had read his letter. The grand piano held all our memories, and they would come back to life the moment I touched the keys.

Jane was exhilarated when the grand piano arrived. In her excitement she was constantly hampering the men delivering it and started crying when Daniel’s mother finally picked her up and got her out of harm’s way. She proposed to take the girls with her for the day, leaving me alone with the instrument. I breathed in the silence, buzzing with the expectation of music. I hadn’t played in ages, and Lizzy had always been the better musician so I usually preferred listening to her. Could I still do it? I picked one of the books I brought and opened it at Mozart’s Sonata in C. My fingers remembered the ease with which they had once danced over the keys, but now stumbled helplessly. I practiced all afternoon. With every attempt my fingers felt more comfortable and my memories grew stronger. I could hear Lizzy’s patient instructions and feel her hip against mine when she was sitting next to me. When I closed my eyes I could feel her arm brushing mine as she leaned forward to correct my fingering, the gentle touch of her fingers on my hands, her breath on my shoulder. I shivered as I remembered the tingling sensation of her body being so close to min.

Daniel stood behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. I startled because I hadn’t heard him come in and was snatched away from my memories.
‘It sounds wonderful darling. I’m so happy for you.’
I’ve always felt guilty about my double loyalty. On the one hand the fact that I was almost happy with Daniel felt like I betrayed Lizzy. On the other hand I felt guilty towards Daniel, because he was good to me and he loved me. It wasn’t his fault he was a man. I don’t know if he ever realized what Lizzy and I had, but he always understood how strong our connection was and how much I missed her. I let my head rest against his arm. I was lucky with Daniel. He hadn’t protested when I said I wanted the grand piano, he even proposed to get Jane piano lessons. We had a good marriage, two wonderful daughters and a nice life. As far as possible in this life, I had everything I could hope for.

I have these amazing images in my head to go with this story, large watercolor paintings of the music room and the rest of the house in vibrant colors... but I can't seem to find the time or patience to work on them. And so, to not keep that from me finally posting something again I decided to go with something much simpler. Done is better than perfect, right...