Elgar.
Surely, I thought, he would understand my obsession when he heard
the sweeping lyricism of the E Minor .
Music engulfed the tiny caravan. I blocked
out the voices from the park and the sound of birds scratching on
the roof. Blocked out the heat blazing through the plastic windows.
Even without the piano part, the sonata churned dramatically; each
note so full of emotion, so full of my dreams, of my desire for
success and escape. I felt Justin’s eyes on me and suddenly I was
the soloist on stage, sharing my music with the world. Half way
through the second movement, he shifted on the bed and it creaked
loudly.
“That’s great, Abby,” he said. “Really
impressive.”
“I wasn’t finished.”
Justin stood up. “Let’s go to the beach or
something. It’s not going to matter if you miss one day of
practice.”
I paused, not convinced. He took the bow out
of my hand and squeezed my fingers.
“Fine,” I sighed.
We walked to the water hand in hand,
teetering on the edge of discomfort. Justin sat on the sand and
tugged me down beside him. My heart sped. He was going to try
something, I just knew it. Not that I didn’t want him to… But what
if after all this time, all this build up, he thought I was a bad
kisser? What if I did something embarrassing like smash noses with
him? How were you supposed to avoid smashing noses? My mind was
tripping over its own feet. Why hadn’t I checked these things with
Hayley first?
For a while, we just sat, watching the boats
slide across the water. Then I buried my feet and began to get
impatient. If Justin was going to try something, I wished he’d just
do it so I could get back to my sonata.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, twisting
the buttons on my school dress.
Justin shrugged. “Just hanging. You want to
go to the rock pool?”
“I should go back and finish practising,” I
said.
He frowned. “Is that all you ever think
about?”
I didn’t reply. It wasn’t that far from the
truth. Violin really had begun to consume my thoughts. Not just the
violin, but all it represented: an escape, a future, a new
life.
“Do you ever think about getting out of
here?” I asked. “Leaving this place?”
He paused. “Not really.”
I turned away with the sudden realisation.
Where was Justin in this exciting new life I’d imagined?
“Never?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, Abby. I never
thought about it. I guess not.”
Silence fell between us again. It was
deafening. I wanted to scream, just so there would be sound.
Finally, Justin spoke up. “You’re going to
Melbourne aren’t you? For that music thing?”
I swallowed heavily.
His voice was croaky. “When?”
I hugged my knees. “I don’t know. Not for a
while, I guess. Not til I’m eighteen… ” I squeezed my eyes closed
against my knees. I thought back to the caravan where my violin lay
across the bed. I felt sick. Suddenly, the thought of the city
loomed dark and frightening. I shuffled closer to Justin and
pressed my head against his shoulder. He smelled of Lynx and
lemonade.
“And even then,” I coughed. “Maybe I won’t.
Maybe I won’t even get in. Maybe I’ll just stay here. Like
you…”
There were two certainties in my life. I had
just never realised that one cancelled out the other.
I went to Andrew’s anyway the following
night, to rehearse my Kreisler study. For the first time, I didn’t
care about perfection. What difference did it make how I played my
scherzo if I was going to stay in Acacia Beach with Justin? My
violin squeaked and skidded over the semiquavers like I was a
ship’s fiddler hyped up on rum.
“Steady,” said Andrew. “You’re slowing down…
Watch your pitch… Faster… Listen, Abby, you’re way too
sharp!”
I threw down my bow. “Stop being such a
hard-arse!”
“Well if you want to play out of tune, go for
it…”
I flung myself onto the piano seat.
“Why are you cracking it?”
I let out an enormous sigh. “You