THE MUSICIAN: Emerson Pass Historicals, Book Six by Tess Thompson

Author:Tess Thompson [Thompson, Tess]
Language: eng
Format: epub

At dinner downstairs at the café, I was seated next to James. Noisy with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of silverware, I strained to hear the conversation. The chairs were made of wrought iron and pinched my back. Cigarette smoke disappeared into the night.

The Coopers had joined us for dinner. Paula was an athletic, ruddy-cheeked woman with a quality of robustness and pragmatism that reminded me of Cymbeline. However, she lacked the restlessness and physical beauty of our Cym. She seemed satisfied to be her husband’s partner without much of the attention on herself. I couldn’t imagine her craving attention or adventure. Alternately, Sebastian Cooper seemed hungry for the attention his wife had no need for. He dominated the discussion at dinner, which had veered toward literature. As far as I could tell, Sebastian Cooper was equally insecure and arrogant, a quality many artists possessed. We were self-confident and humble. Without both, we would not produce.

Sebastian had an opinion on many things, including books. My eyes glazed over and I only vaguely listened as he prattled on endlessly about the difference between Hemingway’s and Fitzgerald’s styles. He, apparently, was more of the Hemingway variety. “The barest minimum of words,” Sebastian said as he picked up his wineglass. “I must find the précis word, you see. And string it together with the next right word and so on until I have a story. All of which makes my work elegant in its simplicity.”

I could understand the concept. Some of the simplest musical arrangements were the most beautiful. I didn’t comment on this or anything else said at the table. I’d never been one to participate in chatter. Was it because I was different when I was little, speaking a foreign language only to my grandmother and sister? I don’t know. After I learned English and to speak as the Barnes children did, I continued to be more of an observer, commenting only in my mind. It wasn’t until later when I heard Fiona practicing her piano upstairs and I went up to investigate did I find my own way to communicate. Music became my language. The vehicle to express the endless swells in my own heart.

But now it was James West who required my attention. The conversations had broken off into groups. With the two of us being on one end of the table, it was mandated that we were to talk to each other. I glanced quickly at Fiona. She was absorbed in whatever it was Saffron was saying. With the ambient noise, I could only see Saffron’s lips moving and couldn’t make out what she said.

“It’s divine to finally meet you,” James said, leaning closer so that I had an even better view of his perfect teeth. “Fiona’s been excited for your arrival. Good of you to come, mate.”

I bristled. Who was this man to act as if he were Fiona’s confidant and best friend? That was my position. It was good I’d come. Fiona would have slipped away from me forever had I not.

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