Free Young Bloods by Simon Scarrow

a music stand.‘I need your help.’
    ‘My help?’
    ‘Yes. Now come over here.’
    Arthur slowly entered the music room and crossed to his father, who was busy sorting out some sheet music on the stand.
    ‘There! That’s the one. I’m including one of the pieces Buckleby has asked you to learn in our Christmas recital.Thought we could play it as a duet.’
    ‘A duet? Me?’
    Garrett laughed. ‘Of course you. Do you think for a moment I’d trust those brothers of yours with something like this? All thumbs. Besides, I think it’s time the public was made aware of your talent. So, I’ve taken the liberty of fetching your violin from your room.There, on the couch. Now, young man, would you do me the honour of accompanying me on this piece?’
    He smiled, and Arthur could not help responding in kind.
    ‘There. That’s better. Now let’s be about it.’
    Arthur took up his violin and bow and moved over to the stand and assumed the correct posture under his father’s approving gaze. Garrett seated himself to be on the same level as his son and readied his own instrument. He drew a deep breath, their eyes met and Garret mouthed, ‘One … two … three …’ and nodded.
    As he played, Arthur’s mind cleared of all thoughts as he concentrated on his fingers, moving swiftly and precisely along the neck of the instrument. In his other hand his fingers controlled the bow in finely calculated sweeps across the four strings. He had played the piece so many times that he knew it by heart. His eyes closed and his head was filled with the melody. And not just his head. His heart as well, swelling in sympathy to the notes that carried through the air so that the sound became a feeling, a mood that filled him with delight.
    The piece came to an end and his bow ceased moving. Arthur opened his eyes and found his father looking at him in surprise and admiration.
    ‘Why, Arthur, that was beautiful, quite beautiful. I’m so proud of you.’ Then, as if embarrassed by his admission, Garrett shuffled through the sheets on the stand. ‘Shall we play something else?’
    ‘If you like, Father.’
    ‘Yes, yes, I’d like that. Here, what about this? You know it?’
    Arthur nodded.
    ‘Ready then?’
    They began. It was a light-hearted piece, technically challenging but ultimately quite trivial, and yet it lifted the young boy’s heart. While it lasted he felt good here in the music room, playing with his father, all the time conscious of the pleasure and pride being taken in his musical ability.
    It was a pity that he could not play music for ever.

Chapter 12
    The Christmas season was over, the parties had ended and once again Dangan had quietly returned to everyday life. The three older Wesley boys were busy packing for the next term at their respective schools. While Richard and William lined the bottom of their trunks with well-worn copies of the classics, Arthur filled the base of his trunk with music manuscripts, borrowed from his father.
    Garrett was delighted with the progress his son had made. Buckleby had obviously not lost his touch as a teacher. Arthur would turn out to be a fine musician, that much was certain, and Garrett was already making plans for his further development. Of course, Ireland was already too small a stage for Garrett, and would be for Arthur in years to come. London would provide greater opportunities and a more appreciative audience. Better still, Paris, or even Vienna. Garrett reined in his flight of fancy with a self-deprecating smile. Whatever his talents, and whatever Arthur’s promise, they could not hope to compare with the raw talent, and technical virtuosity of the musicians of Vienna. London maybe, but not Vienna.
    So the seed was planted, and after the boys had returned to school Garrett was free to indulge his fancy.The more he thought about it, the more alluring the prospect of moving to London became.The violence that simmered in Ireland was getting worse. There was the ever-present