Chapter 24: Ward Six

I walked across the lounge and put my hand on the cracked lid of the piano.

It was dusty, and it smelled of floor polish.

Nine years ago I had stood in this exact spot, nineteen years old and shaking, and played because I could not bear to go upstairs.

"You kept it," I said.

"I paid for a tuner to come once a year," Clarissa said. "I told them not to fix the B-flat."

I turned to look at her.

"I thought you might want to hear it the way it was," she said.

"It was the only thing I could still give you."

I crossed the room and put my arms around her.

She was stiff for a moment.

Then she held on hard, and she smelled of lavender, and I felt her shoulders shake.

"Thank you for the note," I said into her silver hair. "And for the tuner."

"I'm so sorry, Hazel."

"I know. I'm keeping the note."

She laughed, wetly.

Behind us the lift opened, and the sound of a cane came down the corridor.

Etienne's grandmother walked into the lounge in black lace, with the nurse a respectful step behind her.

She did not say good evening.

She went directly to the nearest chair, sat, and looked at me.

"I have been informed that a wedding is to take place," she said. "I came to see that it is done correctly."

"Grand-mère," Etienne said, "we are already married."

"You are married on paper," the old woman said. "I intend to see you married in a room where someone meant it."

The nurse took a small black book from her cardigan pocket.

"I'm a notary of the state," she said. "I've never had the chance to use it on this ward."

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