Chapter 5 #2
‘Darling, Stevie Wonder could see it.’ Violet snorted.
‘Gran, you can’t say that; it’s not politically correct,’ Lily admonished.
‘Stevie would agree with me, if he were here. You don’t even have to look at you, with your droopy energy. You’re like a wet sock.’
Lily shook her head. ‘God, you’re more brutal than any theatre critic.’
Violet put her feet up on the ottoman and clasped her hands in her lap.
‘Go on. Speak now or forever hold your peace.’
There was a silence for a moment and then Lily spoke.
‘I can’t sing anymore,’ she said somewhat dramatically, Violet thought, or perhaps it was warranted. Time would tell.
‘You don’t want to sing or you can’t sing?’ Violet asked.
‘I can’t sing,’ Lily almost cried. ‘I went to the Les Mis audition. It was my third callback.’
‘I know – your mother called to remind me,’ Violet said.
‘Of course she did,’ muttered Lily. ‘Anyway, I was fine in the morning. I did the warm-up and everything, and then I got onto the stage and my voice was gone. It just disappeared. I tried and tried to sing but nothing came out. It was like my voice had frozen.’
‘And this was only yesterday?’ Gran asked.
Lily nodded, tears welling up. ‘And now, when I try and sing, my voice sounds like the air being let out of a balloon.’
Violet narrowed her eyes at her. ‘Have you tried to sing today?’
‘Yes, same as yesterday. Squeaky. I think I’ll have to see a throat doctor or something. I don’t understand it.’ Lily sighed and put her head back and closed her eyes.
Violet looked at her granddaughter. ‘Perhaps it’s more of a mental voice issue in your mind rather than in your throat.’
Lily opened her eyes and adjusted an already perfectly placed cushion next to her on the sofa.
‘You think it’s psychological?’
‘Well you look fine, and you were able to sing in the morning, so it can’t be a throat infection.’
Lily was silent, her beautiful face pinched and pale.
‘And it was right as you were standing on stage, for the third callback?’
Violet observed Lily across the edge of her teacup, her face a portrait of anxiety. Poor lamb, she seemed as though the weight of the earth had dropped on her shoulders.
‘So you’ve run away because your voice has run away?’ Violet joked, trying to lighten the situation. Lily’s smile was subdued but it was there.
‘I can’t laugh about it,’ Lily sighed. ‘What would happen if it never came back? What if I have lost it permanently?’
Violet sighed. ‘Voices do not simply vanish without a by-your-leave. They always come back when they are good and ready, just as cats do. There will be something bigger going on. I didn’t get to ninety-seven without knowing a thing or two about life, and this is one of those things I know about.’
But Lily wasn’t listening. ‘But supposing it doesn’t? What if I’ve wrecked everything?’
Violet shook her head. ‘Lily, darling, let me tell you something. I want you to listen properly, do you hear me?’
Lily looked up at the tone of her grandmother’s voice.
‘Yes, I’m listening,’ she said.
Violet nodded. ‘Good. When I was your age, I also lost my voice.’
‘Really? Or are you just saying this for some sort of life lesson moment that I’m supposed to learn from?’
‘Well you should learn from me all the time, as I am a wise old crone, but yes I did, though it was never about my voice physically; it was because I wasn’t telling the truth about what I wanted in life.’
Lily frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, you’re not telling the truth about something. You’re in denial about something, and your body is trying to tell you.’
‘That’s a bit woo-woo, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know what woo-woo is, but if you mean mental over physical, then yes, I suppose it is.’
‘You’ve never told me this story before.’ Lily looked at her grandmother with suspicion.
‘There are many things I haven’t told you, young lady – they are on a strictly need-to-know basis – but this one you need to know and now I am telling you.’
Lily leaned forward. ‘What were you not saying that caused you to lose your voice?’
Violet sighed. It was always painful to think of old memories of people passed, but now she was ninety-seven there really weren’t many memories that didn’t have the dead in them. That’s why she liked thinking about Lily more than anyone else.
‘Before your granddad, I was engaged to another man – Raymond. He came from a nice family, was well-off, and everyone felt we were the ideal fit.’
Lily’s eyebrows flew up with surprise. ‘You have never told me this. God, talk about keeping secrets for ninety-seven years! So what happened?’
‘Well Martin, your grandfather, he was my friend. He’d been my friend for years, always part of the group that did the theatre shows.
He did the sets and the lighting. He was always rather reliable, but you know, he wasn’t rich or flashy.
Raymond had a wealthy family in Derby and we met there, when I went to learn typing. ’
She paused, thinking. ‘Raymond was respectable and safe. The sort of man my parents approved of. But when I came back to Appleton Green, to be in The Boyfriend , and I was cast as Polly and my voice, it just went. It was so odd and upsetting, so I do understand how you feel.’
‘So what happened?’ Lily urged.
‘I was crying outside rehearsal one day, because I knew they would have to recast me, and then I couldn’t do the show and the thing I was saddest about wasn’t not performing, it was that I wouldn’t see Martin.
And Martin came out to check on me, and I told him.
I was so clear in what I wanted and then I went back in, and I sang. ’
‘But what did Grandad say when you told him?’
Violet gave a little smile. ‘He said it was about time I came to my senses and then he kissed me and that’s when I knew I would be staying in Appleton Green. And here I am and here you are.’
Violet said, ‘I lost my voice because my body was reminding me that I was on the wrong road; it was telling me what my heart already knew.’
Lily’s eyes widened. ‘Do you think that’s me?’
‘I don’t know, but I do think you need to consider what you’re not facing right now.
It took me some time to pay attention, mind you.
When I did, though, when I broke things off with Raymond and told Martin how I felt, it was as if I could breathe once again.
My voice returned more powerfully than before. ’
Lily sighed and took her grandmother’s hand. ‘I don’t know that it’s that simple. I don’t think I’m not facing anything in my life. Truly.’
Violet gave Lily’s a hand squeeze. ‘My darling, the lesson is that your voice serves purposes beyond singing. It’s for honouring your heart and for expressing yourself. Sometimes our bodies discover a means to alert us when we are not living up to ourselves. Pay attention to it.’
Lily frowned. ‘But how did you come to know that was the right choice? Were you terrified Grandad would say no?’
‘No, because whatever happened, I was being truthful. I didn’t want to marry Raymond and I knew I would disappoint my parents and choose a life less safe, but do you know what was more terrifying?’
Lily shook her head and stared at Violet, her eyes wide, as though she were a child again.
‘The idea of leading a life different from who I was meant to be.’
She stopped; her voice grew softer.
‘I was always striving to be someone I believed I ought to be with Raymond. I could just be me with Martin. And that meant I was safe and honest, and I have lived a life I have loved, albeit not long enough with Martin.’
She thought about her beloved Martin and his gentle humour and endless support for her. He was a house painter and while it wasn’t glamourous work, it was honest and he gave Violet this wonderful little cottage and a son she loved and a granddaughter she adored. It was more than enough.
‘So do you think my voice will mend?’ Lily asked.
Violet paused, considering her words. ‘I don’t know, Lil, but it seems very odd that it happened right at that moment.
Maybe you need to think about it. What was stopping you from singing?
I don’t know what’s going on for you right now, only you do, but I think this is bigger than an audition.
And I think you do too. Perhaps have a little break here and work out what it is that’s worrying you. ’
Violet watched tears filling Lily’s eyes.
Lily nodded. ‘Thanks, Gran,’ she said and Violet could see the relief in her only grandchild’s expression.
‘Righto then, I saw that you brought an overnight bag.’
Lily made a face. ‘I actually have two suitcases,’ she said, giving Violet a sheepish look.
‘Moving in are we?’ She snorted.
‘Like, for a month?’ Lily looked hopefully at her. ‘I mean I can be your housemaid, cook, cleaner, bottle washer – anything you need – but I just need a break.’
‘What about your jobs and your flat?’ Gran asked.
‘I have already let the flat out to a couple who are from America and doing a play in London. They move in on Friday. And well my jobs, if you can call them that, let’s just say I won’t miss much.
I haven’t really been getting many shifts.
I need to look for a new job to be honest but I need to think what I can do.
I don’t want to serve overpriced steak and fries to drunk businessmen or call people to ask them to join a wine club when they can barely afford their heating bill. ’
Violet shook her head in affirmation. ‘Both of them are terrible jobs, I agree. No loss there.’
‘I know.’ The two women sat in silence for a moment.
Then Violet spoke. ‘Well I couldn’t think of anything better and between my fall and your voice, we might just be the right sort of medicine for each other.’
‘I can help with things around here and just potter, you know,’ Lily said.
‘I don’t need convincing.’ Violet laughed. ‘I have some silly nurse from the hospital coming tomorrow to check on me, which will be a waste of time. She will fuss about probably – you can get rid of her for me.’
‘No, I won’t do that. You need to be assessed, but they will feel more comfortable with me here for a bit, I think.’
Violet knew Lily was right, and she was secretly glad she was at Pippin Cottage.
No one ever really understood how hard it was, getting old.
It was one of those things you only discovered when you arrived at the destination.
Lately Violet had been wondering if living this long was worth it.
She had no purpose anymore, getting up was a chore and each day was becoming shorter from the time she arose to the time she went to bed.
She could feel the clock running slower with every day.