The Key of My Heart Chapter 10

Chapter 10 For once, I had a bit of spare time. I lay back on the chair, intending to doze off, but as my mind and body relaxed, I found myself thinking over the last four or so years since I moved house, and ended up as part of Pete-the-drummer’s family. I hadn’t been meaning to move in when I first came for a visit. Chris had arranged for Pete and I to get together and see if our playing styles matched each other, and then Pete’s mum had said why didn’t I come for a visit – they had plenty of space, and Pete and I could get some more playing time in together. I wasn’t sure what she’d be like, though she sounded friendly enough on the phone, but I took to her straight away.
“Pete’s in the barn, I think,” she said. Turned out that Pete was a farmer’s son, and yes, they really did have a barn near the house. And he was in there, drumming away like mad. This was the old barn, apparently, the original one. The new ones were out of sight of the house. The barn was more of a music room and makeshift recording studio now!
“My parents chucked me out into here when they couldn’t stand the noise any longer.” Pete sighed and shook his head. “They just don’t appreciate good drumming.” Pete had a younger brother, Charles, a little sister, Jenny, who was the youngest of the family, and an older brother and sister, both of whom had left home. Jack was a doctor, and Liz was a teacher.
“And I want to be a musician, and Jenny’s little head is totally stuffed with brains. Luckily, Charles wants to take over the farm, so there’s someone to carry on the family tradition. We keep telling dad he shouldn’t have married such a smart woman.”
Charles looked up from the game of chess he was losing to Jenny.
“Well, I got his brains. But I’ll still have to study if I want to be a good farmer, alas.” I liked Pete – he had a goofy sense of humour, and the worst line in knock-knock jokes that I ever heard. But the best thing was that we played well together – we overlapped enough in style to be able to make a good sound, but I was learning from his musical style, and he was learning from mine. I liked eating with them too – mealtimes were lively and fun, round the big table in the kitchen. The conversation was sometimes a bit earthy, especially when animals giving birth were involved, but that didn’t bother me too much. As the fortnight came to a close, I realised I was going to be sorry to leave. But even with all the busyness of the household, the practising with Pete, and the general administrative stuff that Chris Deakin was sorting out for us, my thoughts kept turning to Elf. Where was she? Was she all right? Why hadn’t she been in touch? There was no forwarding address for her, from her old address, but she did have an address for me. She could write to me via Chris’s office. Why hadn’t she? Back then, I was still expecting to hear from her at any moment. It was Pete’s dad, Tom, who came up with the idea in the first place.
“We don’t want to stop Pete having a chance to do this music stuff, if that’s what he really wants to do. But I do need his help on the farm – Charles is still at school at the moment, and I don’t want to have to take on another worker. So how about we give you board and lodging, in exchange for your help on the farm – and you and Pete can practise together easily. And if things really take off for both of you, well, we’ll have to re-think everything then. And we’ve got enough space in this house to put you up, easily.” It was a really good idea, and it worked beautifully. Mum came over, with all my stuff, and met the family. She really liked them too. If it was a business matter, I’d ask my dad, but when it comes to people, it’s my mum’s opinion I value.
She met Jake, the record producer as well, and took to him too. Which surprised me, as he’s fairly into the bottom line of costs and so on.
“But it isn’t his first passion,” she said. “What he’s really passionate about is the music – but he’s practical about it as well, so he’s smart with the money side.”
But he’d said exactly what Chris had said – that having a great star signed up was wonderful, but actually, you could make a living from a stable of reliable performers.
Mum left, and Pete and I settled into a routine of farmwork, practising and performing. We were definitely getting better and better! I got to know the other two better as well. Charles would sit there on an evening, fighting with his homework, while Jenny raced through hers with ease – and often ended up helping Charles with his. She was the one who came up with the name for our two-man band.
“Peter means a stone, and Jasper is a semi-precious stone, so I think you should play on that. How about Greenstone?”
“Greenstone? Not a bad idea, Jenny-wren.”
“And I tell you what,” she went on,” write it lower-case all the way through – greenstone, like that, with no capitals. I’ll look at some good fonts for you to use as well.” Pete and I – no, greenstone – were getting gigs often enough for us to feel pleased. We did a mixture of covers and my own stuff, and people seemed to like us. We’d done a first album: my stuff and old jazz songs with a new twist, and it was selling well enough to please both Jake and Chris. We weren’t overnight sensations, and we weren’t going to be. We were two young men who were getting to make music in front of an audience, and that was enough for Pete – and nearly enough for me. And the time had slipped by. My hair had got longer, Pete’s shorter.
“Of all the things I had to inherit from my grandfather, it had to be his early balding, didn’t it,” he complained – and went for a very short haircut. We released a second album, and again it sold well enough to please everyone. We weren’t going to get rich at this, but we were definitely breaking even. We got played on niche radio stations, and on late-night slots, but we got re-bookings from places we had played before.
Sally liked having someone else around who knew what to do in a kitchen, and sometimes she and Tom argued over who was going to get me that day. I was content enough – just. Sometimes, when I was doing something like making pancakes for Pete and me after a late night the night before, I would suddenly remember making them for Elf, and the memory would be sharp and clear, so that I expected to look up and see her sitting at the table, waiting for me. Tom came in from the fields after I’d made them, and grabbed a plate. Sally had come in and snaffled some as well.
“I shan’t need either of you today – you can both have the day off. Make the most of it, as the next week’s going to be really busy!” And so here I was, trying to relax and drift off to sleep, but Elf was haunting me still. She was like a shadow at the edges of my mind, almost out of sight, but not quite. I still had the ring I had bought, hidden away safely and secretly. I couldn’t bear to throw it away, couldn’t bear to look at it. I gave up trying to relax, and decided to join Pete in the barn instead. The trouble was, I had no-one to talk to about Elf. No-one else had even met her, apart from Chris. I couldn’t exactly say, well, there was this girl, and I was going to ask her to marry me, but she vanished. I’d asked Chris to try and trace her, and he’d done his best, he said, but there was no sign of her. But no reports of her death, either, which took one worry off my mind. She must have changed her mind about me – but why? I’d loved her so much – and thought she loved me too. Jenny came home while we were practising, and came to the barn, attracted by the noise. She looked a bit pale, and when Pete asked her how her day had gone, she looked unhappier still.
“I really hate that school. I’m sick and tired of being told I’m a swot – and fat, and ugly, and everything else. All the girls in my class want to do is talk about boys all the time. And what shade of blonde they’re going to dye their hair next, and which nail decorations are the nicest.”
Pete and I exchanged glances. This really wasn’t fair on Jenny.
“Can’t Charles help at all?”
“Oh Pete, he’s in the top year now. He’s on the other side of the school. He doesn’t even see what’s going on. Never mind – can I join in with you, playing, before I do my homework?” So Jenny joined in our jamming session – she played the piano rather well, like she did most things. But I could see that she wasn’t happy – in fact, she was very unlike the happy girl she’d been when I arrived here. And the change had come with the change of school. Was there anything we could do to make things any better for her? I did feel sorry for her – and it took my mind off Elf, that shadow girl, drifting round the edges of my mind.