Worst Impressions

Bonus Chapter - Alone in the Garden

I was on my feet immediately, ready to defend my sister and to stop Chantelle from saying anything more.

'Mandy –' I began.

It seemed that I had nothing to worry about.

Rather than letting the insinuation linger in the air where it might do my family harm, Beth gallantly retorted, 'Do I look like the sort of person who has private lessons from anyone? You need to check your sources, Chantelle. It doesn't sound like they know what they're talking about.'

Chantelle didn't have the opportunity to argue. Once she looked in my direction, the sheer fury I felt towards her was clear. Cowed, she fell silent, and I hoped she would continue to keep her bile to herself for the rest of the night. Charlie and I would have some choice words about her attitude in someone else's home after our guests had departed.

To further show where my loyalties were for the evening, I stood beside Beth once she'd retrieved my sister's bow from the floor and returned it. 'I hope you don't mind playing with an amateur. I'll be relying on you to make me sound better than I really am.'

Mandy smiled and my heart warmed to Beth again. 'You shouldn't have so little faith in your skills. Don't forget, I've already heard you play once.'

'You heard me butcher a piece of art once,' she corrected.

'We'll have to agree to disagree on that. But I think you'll find that William enjoyed your playing as much as I did.'

'Enjoyed is a strong word,' I teased. Gently, I squeezed Beth's shoulder. I felt a rush of affection for her that I could never truly convey and certainly wasn't willing to in front of her father, but I hoped that the tenderness of my gaze and touch reached her. That she would understand just how grateful I was for her intervention on my sister's behalf. 'What are you thinking of playing for us, Bennett?'

'How do you feel about Scarlatti's Sonata K thirty-nine?' Mandy suggested.

'I was hoping we could play Born to be Wild, but it's a good second choice.'

Of the pair, it was clear that Mandy was the stronger performer. She'd been putting on shows for our family and guests for years, and it showed. My sister was confident in every draw of the bow, every flourish, and every note. At first, Beth was nervous and hesitant. It wasn't a piece of music that lent itself to such playing and she relied on my sister to carry her forwards. As they continued to play, Mandy's infectious confidence and energy reached Beth. She struck the keys with renewed vigour, losing herself to the composition. To her, the rest of the world must have melted away. There were only the two of them and the music that they were reciting, and it was a glorious sight to behold. It was less about the piece and more about the people playing it.

About the liberation that it gave them to put their hearts and souls into music, to express themselves so completely and openly.

I wondered if Beth knew just how beautiful she was when she was in the throes of a symphony.

Just how free she was.

How she made me fall in love with her all over again.

We applauded when they finished, but I couldn't find the words to express just how much she'd moved me. Beth's father was the first to offer his compliments, and I was pleased that he was a supportive, kind man.

'That,' he said enthusiastically, 'was much better than spending a night in front of the television. You were fantastic, girls. Really.'

'Thanks, Mr Bennett,' Mandy replied. It had been many years since she'd received fatherly praise and the words made her cheeks glow with delight. She set her violin and bow back into their case carefully. 'You haven't seen the house yet, right? How about a tour?'