When I heard Gerda’s news, I couldn’t wait to tell Jasper! I eventually got away about lunchtime and found Jasper at the park. He’d brought one of his famous picnics with him, for which I was truly grateful.“You’ll never guess what! Tamara’s dad turned up, and he’s got a friend of a friend who can let him have a holiday chalet dirt cheap for a fortnight. So he’s taking all four children and Gerda away with him!”
“Leaving you on your own?” Jasper looked a bit miffed about that.
“Oh, that’s not a problem – though I hope she remembers to leave me enough money for food this time.”
After we’d eaten, and were sitting watching the fish, Jasper pulled me close to him.“I don’t like to think of you on your own though, Elf.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”
“Still…when do they go?”
“What time is it now? Oh – ten minutes ago, then.”
He leant over and kissed me.“I’ve got some really good news too. My dad goes away tomorrow for a couple of weeks. I’ve got to go back early tonight, to eat with him, but from tomorrow afternoon he’ll be away. Elf, we can spend all day together for the next two weeks!”
I watched Jasper playing, and thought about how much I loved him. With him, I felt safe, protected, cared for – and it was a long time since that had been the case.
“What started you off playing in front of people?” I asked.“Performing? It was when I was about ten – I’d been playing the piano for a while then. Anyway, my mother used to do volunteer work at an old people’s day centre near where we lived. And she needed someone to play Christmas carols for a sing-along one year, so she roped me in.”
“Weren’t you nervous?”
“Well, not really – I was playing easy arrangements. And carols aren’t hard anyway.”
He changed rhythm and started playing something else, singing it to me.“Have you written that song yet?” he asked at the end of the first verse.
“Yes. You can see it in a bit. Tell me some more about how you started performing.”
“It grew from those carols. I started going and playing every week – songs for a sing-along. They all enjoyed it so much. And I learned loads: how music makes people’s lives better for a start. And then there was a guy there who’d been a really well-known jazz pianist in nightclubs, until his arthritis got so bad he couldn’t play any more. But he could teach! I learnt so much technique from him. And I discovered I liked making people happy with music.”
He put his guitar down and came over and hugged me.“Show me your song – I really want to see it.”
I passed my notebook over to him, and watched his face anxiously as he read it.“Hey, Elf, I like this.” He started humming to himself, trying the words out.
“Honey, I’ll buy you a villa in France.
You can sit in the sun and watch the waves dance.
So will you be my poppet and my sweet?
And will you be my sugar candy treat?
Can I write on this?”
“Yes of course.” I was so pleased that he liked it.
He pulled out a pencil and began writing chord symbols above the words, humming steadily to himself. I knew Jasper’s handwriting so well by now – big, angular and definite. Surprisingly legible for a male, I’d told him one, teasing him. And he’d said how dare I be so cheeky, and tickled me until I was helpless with laughter.
All too soon it was time to go home. The house seemed dingier and gloomier than ever. Gerda had left an old envelope on the table, with some money in it. When I looked inside, my heart sank. It would keep me in bread and jam, and that was about it. But then my spirits lifted again. I would be seeing Jasper every day – and all day, he’d said.
The next day, Jasper insisted on seeing me home. We’d had a wonderful day: we’d walked round the town, been to the cinema for another silly-but-romantic film, eaten lunch together, worked on the song I’d written. Then he saw inside my house.“Elf. You can’t stay here on your own.”
Then he’d looked inside the fridge and forced me to tell him how much money Gerda had left me. I’d never seen Jasper angry before, and it was quite scary.
Then he’d spotted my sleeping bag, and discovered that I normally slept on the floor.
“Elf. No arguments. You’re coming to stay with me while my dad’s away. You can have his bedroom. I’m not leaving you here.”
“How could I sleep, knowing you were here, on your own, in this?”I gave in eventually. It wasn’t as though I wanted to be here. I lifted the loose floor tile and rescued my treasures – my parents’ book and the xylophone Jasper had given me – from under the floorboards, and went with him to where he was staying.
Even the entrance hall was amazing. I’d not seen anything so elegant for ages and ages.
And as for inside…
”Jasper, this place is like a palace!” I couldn’t believe it.
“Not my taste, I can assure you! It’s a corporate hospitality apartment – furnished for rich businessmen to have somewhere to stay. What was with hiding your stuff under the floorboards?”
“It stops the children breaking it – or Gerda selling it. I brought quite a lot of stuff with me when I moved in with her – toys and clothes and things. I grew out of the clothes, of course, but she sold the toys and books – or Chablis broke them to be nasty.”
Finally, Elf was being looked after the way she deserved to be! The more I heard about her life with Gerda, the less I liked what I heard. She was really impressed with the kitchen, and I have to say, it was a far cry from the one in the house – flat, really – where she lived.
She sat and chatted to me while I put together some supper for us. That girl looked permanently underfed – though I was seeing some improvement in her with the lunches I brought for her. But I was hoping a fortnight of good food and good company would put some real colour into her cheeks.
I found some candles and turned off the lights and we had a very romantic meal together. And I found myself telling Elf what I really dreamed of doing: using my ability to make music as a tool for making other people’s lives better.
“But I still want to go on performing as well! I don’t just want to be a music therapist – I’d love to be a professional musician and a music therapist as well. I got hooked on performing all those years ago at the day centre. I love the feeling of communicating with an audience.”
She thought about that for a while.“Yes, I guess I know what you mean. But I’m not like that. I do like it when I put words down on a page though, and they say what I wanted them to say. I like words – I think I get that from my father.”
Elf hardly ever talked about her parents, but that night – maybe it was the candles and the intimate atmosphere – she started talking more and more.
Almost inevitably, it ended up with her in floods of tears. It was as though she was crying out the grief of the past ten years.
I pulled her close to me, hugged her, patted her, soothed her, and she clung to me as though I was her one lifeline in a stormy sea – my poor little Elf.
In the end, I tucked her up in my own bed. She fell asleep almost instantly, worn out with her grief. I stood looking at her, my beautiful little Elf, and knew that by hook or by crook, we had to find a way to stay together. She’d be eighteen in a few months, and could say goodbye to Gerda. And between us we could surely earn enough to live on – though I had a strong feeling that my mother would be totally on our side as well. And as for my father, it wasn’t really of his business.
I went and slept in my father’s bed, but in the night I heard Elf crying again. I climbed in beside her, and held her in my arms until the morning.
And that set the pattern for our days – I’d cook breakfast for us both, and she’d laugh at me flipping pancakes. We’d go out – and usually end up at the park if it wasn’t raining. I set Elf’s song to music, and we sang it together as a duet. She had a nice voice – sweet, but strong. Like herself, I told her, and she blushed at the compliment. And we spent the nights in each other’s arms, planning our future together.
Then the day came that changed everything. We’d been playing and singing in the park, and then I’d been showing off some jazz guitar stuff to Elf – and lamenting the fact that there was never a handy piano around when you wanted one. When I’d finished, the-guy-who-wasn’t-a-ghost came over to talk to us. Turned out Elf had been right all along – he was a talent scout!“My name’s Christopher Deakins – here’s my card.”
And as the conversation went on, it seemed like it was my talent he was scouting for!
“I have a ten week tour booked – small clubs, but it’s a beginning. And some of them are clubs where the audience are looking to hear new talent. Only the singer who was booked for it has just been rushed into hospital with peritonitis. And it starts the week after next. I think your music and style would fit these venues very nicely, especially your jazz abilities.”
He went on, but I was torn two ways. This was a wonderful chance to try and do what I’d always dreamed of doing. But what about Elf?
It was as though she knew what I was thinking.“Jasper, I think you should go for this. At least, try and see what you can do. After all, by next week, Gerda and your father will both be back.”
I knew what she meant. She would have to go home, and our idyllic life together would finish. But only for the time being, I promised myself.
“And ten weeks is about the right length of time before your next plans.” She was being deliberately oblique in front of Mr Deakins, but I knew what she meant.“You’re right about that.” Elf would be eighteen by then, and free to leave!
Mr Deakins was looking approvingly at her.
“And we can write,” I said. I’d wanted to give her a mobile phone, but she’d pointed out that if Gerda saw it, she’d sell it. “I’ll give you my address – oh, I don’t know where I’ll be.”Elf’s face fell, but Mr Deakin stepped smoothly into the gap.
“I have a permanent office address – you could send your letters there, and they’ll be forwarded to wherever we happen to be. It’s a ten-town tour, with a week in each, so that won’t be a problem. The letters might take four days to reach you instead of one or two, but they’ll get to us.”
Elf’s eyes brightened again.
“Anyway,” he said, “you’ll probably need a little time to think about this. I’ll meet you here again tomorrow after lunch to discuss contracts and so on, if you’re interested in going further. If you decide you’re not, can you call me on my mobile? The number’s on my card.” He smiled pleasantly at us both, and left the park.
We talked through Mr call-me-Chris Deakins’ offer together that night. In the end, we decided I should accept it, if the contract looked okay. I’d learnt enough about law from my dad in my time to be reasonably confident of spotting any major dodgy parts.“Elf, it won’t be forever. I’ll be back for you in about ten weeks.” I gathered her closer yet. “You have to let me leave you some money.”
She began to pull away from me, but I didn’t let her.
“No. Listen. I don’t think Gerda’s done a very good job of looking after you. I want you to have an emergency escape fund, Elf – enough for you to be able to rent a little room somewhere if you need to.”
“I want to know you’re safe. You’re so dear to me.” I leant over and kissed her.“Please, Elf. You can give it back to me if you don’t need it. Dad hasn’t given me much of his time while I’ve been here, but he’s given me way more money than I’ve needed. Take it – hide it away. Just in case.”
“Oh Jasper. I’m going to miss you so much.”
Some of the places Chris had got lined up for me were pretty low-brow to look at – but the audiences were good. I loved playing to them. Chris said we’d have to sort out a backing group for me if we got good reviews and more bookings from these gigs, but that was all in the future. Elf’s letters arrived for me usually once in each town, but sometimes there’d be a gap, and then I’d get two or three together at the next town.
Some of the other places were a lot classier – one town, the audience really liked the jazz piano stuff I played, and several people asked me a lot of very searching questions afterwards about who had influenced my particular style, and why had I improvised in just that way, just there…I loved it. But I missed Elf so. If she’d been over eighteen, I would have brought her with me.
We were seven weeks into the tour now and Chris was very pleased with how it was going.
“You’ve got some very good notices. I’ve had re-booking enquiries from everywhere you’ve played, and quite a few booking enquiries as well. They’re all small independent places – you’re going to need a day job for a while! – but this is very promising. And there’s even fan mail building up.”“Fan mail! What do I do with that?”
He laughed.“Some of them you’ll have to answer yourself – those are the ones from people asking quite technical questions. Some of them I can do, or my PA. All you have to do is write a small message at the bottom of the page. If you do that for me first and then I’ll give you the ones only you can answer…it’s all about building up a good image. Answering your fans, fairly quickly, is a good thing to do.”
Chris sorted through the post. There were at least a dozen I’d have to answer myself – and I was so tired! He showed me the sort of reply he’d write on my behalf to the others – varied enough not to sound like a stock letter.“If you sign here on each sheet, then I can put them through the printer. Most of them you can write “With best wishes from” etc. Two need “Wishing you every success in your music exams”, and one needs a bit more. Put – let’s think – “I’m glad you enjoyed my music so much – I loved playing for you. With every best wish for your future, whatever it turns out to be.” You’d better sign that one “Love from” – it’s a teenager, waiting for an operation that will either make things better, or leave them as they are, so I think a warmer note is needed.”
There was no post from Elf in that batch, but there had been two letters in the previous one, so I didn’t feel too cheated. I lay on the bed for a little while, thinking about how much I loved her. I couldn’t wait to see her again. In an antique shop in the last town we’d been at, I’d spotted a ring – a little enamelled flower with an amethyst at the heart of it. Very Victorian, and very pretty. It was now tucked away in my bag, and as soon as I saw Elf again, I was going to propose to her.
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