Radclyffe - Love's Melody Lost Read online

  "I dont need to go to school this summerin fact, I can really use the break. And, besides, working here at Yardley will give me a chance to practice some of my ideas. Theres so much that needs to be done. I promise, if I cant handle it, Ill be the first to say so!"

  Graham spoke softly, her voice dreamlike. "You cant imagine how lovely Yardley was in the spring. There were blossoms everywhere, new life seeking the sun. I would walk for hours through the gardens, just looking at the colors. The interplay of the different hues in the sunlight was like a symphony for the eyes. I couldnt wait to get hereout of the city, away from the crowds. After a long tour we - " She stopped abruptly, a quicksilver flash of pain passing across her face. The hand that held the fine crystal flute tightened. Anna feared for a moment Graham would break it in her hand.

  Anna tried to imagine what it would be like to know she would never see another spring. Saddened, she felt an uncommon tenderness for this woman who had lost so much. Impulsively, she said, "Youll know when the roses bloomyoull be able to smell the blossoms in the air."

  "Yes." Graham saw no reason to explain that she rarely walked about during the day. At night, in the dark, it didnt matter that she couldnt see. She would not have to imagine what she was missing in the sunlight. Impatiently she shook her head. She thought she was long past such regrets. "Do what you like. If you find that you need help, hire someone. Ive arranged a household account at the bank in your name."

  "Oh, no! You hardly know me!"

  "I know what I need to know." Graham rose abruptly, suddenly anxious to be done with this conversation. She did not want to remember - any of it. "Id like to see you tomorrow at one oclock. We can continue with the papers then."

  Anna stared after her as Graham disappeared into the house. She wondered how Graham would spend her time until next they met. Each time she saw her, she was left with more questions and greater curiosity about her secretive host.

  Chapter Five

  Anna stretched her back, cramped from the long hours in one position. She surveyed her progress. Graham was rightshe was going to need help. Nevertheless, she was happy with the start she had made in the gardens below the terrace. In two weeks she had pruned back the rose bushes and bordering shrubs, and had rescued most of the perennials from the thick vines that had encroached upon them over the years. Since her mornings had quickly become filled with managing the affairs of the house, she worked mostly from midafternoon until dusk. The Yardley household itself required little attention. Whatever needs Helen had were easily accomplished on Annas trips into the city for her classes. However, Graham owned property in both Boston and Philadelphia. Much of the financial matters were directed to the attorneys, but Anna found herself becoming quite adept at dealing with building managers, contractors, and accountants over the phone.

  Several times a week, she assisted Graham with her business affairs, a task she had come to enjoy. From their afternoon meetings, Anna was slowly gaining an impression of Grahams many dimensions, despite her carefully guarded exterior. Anna found her to be impatiently dismissive of any and all financial matters, despite the fact that she was clearly wealthy. If engaged in quiet conversation she was attentive, gracious and altogether charming. However, when forced to confront the affairs of the estate she made decisions quickly, occasionally displayed flashes of temper when annoyed, and seemed altogether uninterested in the practical issues that occupied most people. Whatever captured Grahams mind when she suddenly fell quiet, her attention clearly eclipsed by some internal voice, Anna sensed it had nothing to do with the world she herself was familiar with.

  Despite the fact that they spent several hours together nearly every day, Anna knew so little of her. Graham easily drew Anna into discussions of her life, but she never spoke of her own past. Anna became more and more intrigued as the days passed. She wondered what thoughts, and more importantly, what feelings, lay hidden beneath the silent unreadable features.

  Anna sighed and tossed her trowel into the toolbox. Despite her fatigue, the hard physical labor satisfied her. Her days were full, and she was coming to view Yardley as her home. She looked forward to breakfast and dinner with Helen, only wishing that Graham would join them. Each evening, Helen took a tray to the music room before serving their own meal. After Anna and she cleaned up together, Anna retired to her rooms, often falling asleep before the fireplace. She never saw Graham in the evening, and she came to realize that she missed her formidable presence.

  She carried her tools around to the gardeners shed in the rear of the property. As she passed by the terrace, she noticed that the doors to Grahams music room stood open. The lace curtains wafted out on the late afternoon breeze. Glancing in, Anna was surprised to see Graham seated at the piano. It was the first time she had ever seen her playing. The notes of a haunting melody reached her easilysoft, and gently flowing, but so incredibly sad! Without thinking, she drew nearer, captured by the beautiful music. Standing before the open doors, she watched Graham as she played. This was a Graham she had never seen. Her eyes were nearly closed, and as her body moved commandingly over the keys, her face reflected the essence of the music. She was lost in the melancholy notes, critically alone. Annas throat constricted as she watched and listened, knowing with certainty that at that moment, Graham Yardley and her music were one. She remained unmoving until Graham finished, then stepped softly away. The image of Graham, staring sightlessly down at her hands on the silent ivory keys, remained etched indelibly in her mind.

  "Graham asked that you join her in the music room when youre free," Helen called to her as she passed through the kitchen.

  "Yes, thanks," Anna replied absently, still disquieted by the scene she had just witnessed, unable to say exactly why. She showered quickly and was soon knocking on the closed doors of Grahams study.

  "We need to deal with some of the personal correspondence," Graham said perfunctorily when Anna joined her. "We have been getting too many calls lately."

  "Certainly," Anna answered, instantly aware by Graham's tone that she was disturbed about something. She wished she could ask her what troubled her, but Grahams unapproachable demeanor prevented even that simple inquiry. Ignoring her disquiet, she crossed to her usual seat at the desk and began to peruse the letters Graham had obviously ignored for months. Anna was amazed at the scope of the solicitations. She began to read aloud at random, for all the letters were similar in theme.

  "These two conservatories have written several times in the last two years requesting that you teach a masters class," Anna informed Graham, who had begun pacing soon after Anna began reading messages to her. Anna had never seen her so agitated before.

  "Tell them no," Graham replied curtly, her face grim.

  "There are a number of inquiries regarding your concert availability," Anna said quietly, subdued by the well-known companies seeking to engage Graham as a guest performer.

  "Throw them away," Graham said flatly. She stood with her back to Anna in the open terrace doorway, and the hand she rested against the frame was clenched.

  "Theres a graduate student at Juilliard - shes written and called several times. She says shes writing her doctoral thesis on your early works-" Anna faltered as Graham caught her breath sharply. "She would like to arrange a meeting with you, and perhaps discuss your current-" Anna was stunned to silence as Graham whirled toward her, her face furious.

  "I dont perform, I dont compose, and I dont give goddamned interviews. Go through whatevers there and deal with it! I dont want to hear anything more about it!"

  Anna stared as Graham searched for her walking stick with a trembling hand. She had never seen Graham misplace anything in her surroundings before. It was heartwrenching to see her falter uncertainly as she tried to orient herself.

  "Its against your chair," Anna said quietly. She looked away, giving Graham time to compose herself. She knew Graham could not see her, but it seemed wrong somehow to watch her private struggles.

  "Graham-" she ventured tentatively,
not wanting to add to Grahams obvious distress. "These things look important- I cant just throw them away. I dont think I can answer them without your help."

  Graham paused at the door, her back to Anna, rigid with her struggle for control. "Ive given you my answer to all of them - no. Word it any way you want, but handle them yourself in the future. Thats what Im paying you for. Dont bring them up to me again."

  Anna risked Grahams ire with one last attempt. "If you could just give me some idea-

  "Enough Anna," Graham said wearily as she pushed open the heavy door to the hall. "Its done."

  Anna was more than curious, she was shocked, both by what she had read as well as by Grahams reactions. She had very little exposure to formal music, but even she could appreciate from the nature of the requests that Graham was no ordinary musician. The magnitude of Grahams response was even more bewildering. Anna wanted very much to understand what had just happened, but she could not ask Graham. Anna knew Graham well enough by now to know she would never discuss something so obviously personal, let alone something that caused her such anguish. Her pain was clearly evident, but Anna sensed that Graham would never admit to it. It was the nearly palpable intensity of that pain more than anything else that propelled her from the room in search of Helen. She found her sewing in the library.

  "We need to talk Helen," Anna said gravely as she joined the older woman in the seating area.

  Helen regarded her first with surprise, then, at the sight of Annas distress, with apprehension. "What is it?"

  "Its Graham," Anna replied. "Tell me who she is."

  "Oh my goodness!" Helen pronounced, "That would be quite a task! Ive known Graham since she was just a baby. Mrs. Yardley died when Graham was only three, and I guess I became the closest thing she ever had to a mother. Lord forgive me, but I think I love her more than my own flesh and blood. I wouldnt know where to begin!"

  Anna was beginning to expect Helens evasions whenever Graham was the subject, but she was too shaken by the strange scene with Graham to accept more non-answers. It was enough that Graham shut her out with her unimpeachable graciousness and impenetrable emotional barriers.

  "Start with these!" Anna demanded, holding up a fistful of envelopes. "Carnegie Institute, Paris Conservatory, London Philharmonic - and a dozen others. You should have seen what these did to her! Shes suffering, and you know she wont admit that, let alone explain it. Im supposed to be here to assist her. I cant be of any help to her if both of you keep me in the dark!"

  Helen regarded her solemnly, a lifetime of guarding Grahams privacy warring with her concern for Grahams well-being. In the end she finally conceded that Graham needed someones help, and Anna cared enough to ask. She decided the time had come for one of them to trust someone. She set her sewing carefully aside and crossed to the library shelves. She took down several heavy leather bound books and handed them to Anna.

  "I think this is what youre asking about."

  Anna opened the cover of the first volume to find press clippings, articles, and reviews, all of them about Graham. The earliest dated back over thirty years. With an increasing sense of wonder, she studied the chronicle of Grahams life.

  Graham Yardley had first come to the attention of the music world when she was only six years old. By then she had studied the piano for three years. The young music teacher her father first employed soon recognized that the headstrong young child was advancing far too rapidly for normal instruction. An interview was arranged with a famous instructor at the Curtis Institute, who accepted the little girl as a pupil. By six she was giving recitals, by her teens she had appeared as a guest soloist with a number of internationally renowned orchestras, and by twenty she had won not only the Tschaikovsky competition, but every prestigious music competition on every continent. Not only had she been lauded for her innovative interpretations of classical works, but for her own compositions as well. Her talent seemingly knew no bounds.

  The decade of her twenties was a time of intense international touring and performances. The London Times, the Paris Review, the Tokyo press and dozens of others celebrated her as the next heir to Rubenstein and Horowitz. There didnt seem to be enough superlatives to describe her. Seemingly she had not yet reached her peak when the coverage simply stopped. Anna was left with a void, staring at empty pages, desperately seeking some further glimpse of the great pianist all the world had welcomed.

  "My god, Helen," she murmured, closing the books gently, swallowing the urge to cry. Laying them aside, she met Helens questioning gaze. Just as she knew Helen was waiting for her to comment, she knew that her response would determine what else Helen might share. In the end, all she could do was speak from her heart.

  "Shes really quite special, isnt she?"

  Helen smiled softly. "Its strange that you should say that - I always thought of her that way - special. People who didnt know her thought her genius came easily. I knew that whatever she was born with, the music she made came from her hearts blood. When she was working, you couldnt drag her away from the piano. For days and nights unend shed go without sleeping - Id practically have to force myself into the room with a tray of food. Shed be pacing or playingstruggling with some refrain. When shed finally come outstarving, shed say, -- she would look so happy! I knew she loved it; you could feel her excitement when she had gotten it just right!"

  Helen paused, searching for words to portray a personality that by its very uniqueness defied simple description. The icon the world had worshipped was merely the public image of the complex, complicated, and all too human woman Helen had known.

  "Shes been called so many things. A gifted child prodigy they said when she was six, a remarkable composer they said when she was twenty, and at thirty they called her a master. Some things they said arent written down in those articles. There were those who called her arrogant, temperamental, an egotistical perfectionist. All those things were true, but she was so much more to those who knew her! Whatever she demanded of others, she demanded ten times that from herself. She put all of herself into everything she did, and expected the same from others. She was the force that drove all of us, and in return she gave us beauty beyond belief. We made allowances I suppose, for her temper and her arrogance. She was never cruel or malicious, simply so intense, so consumed by her music! She was the light of our lives!"

  Anna sat quietly, trying to imagine Graham like that, wishing she had known her. When she thought of the tormented, anguished woman who would not even hear of the world she had once ruled, Annas heart ached. Where was that imperious virtuoso now?

  "What happened to her Helen?"

  "The accident changed everything," Helen said with a finality that warned Anna not to probe for details.

  "Helen," Anna began tentatively, "I heard Graham playing todayit was so beautiful! Why doesnt she perform any longer?"

  Helen shook her head. "She wont play for anyone anymore. Hasnt since the accident. She was in the hospital for months. When she was finally released, she came immediately to Yardley. Shes lived here since then. Her father was alive back then, of courseits been over ten years. He stayed on at the main house in Philadelphia, and I came here to be with Graham. He visited, but I knew it was hard for him to see her so changed. At first friends would call, and so many important people from the music world, but she wouldnt see them. For months she barely spoke, or left her room. After a while, she began to go outside, mostly at night. She wouldnt let me help her. Shes always been so stubborn, even as a little girl!" Helen smiled at some memory. "It broke my heart to see her stumble. Sometimes she fell, and it was all I could do not to run out to her. But, oh! Such pride-! I knew it would hurt her more if she knew I could see her like that."

  It was physically painful for Anna to imagine what Graham had suffered, or the extent of her loss. Neither could she imagine that the stubborn independent woman she was coming to know would simply give up.

  "But, Helen! She's still so strong. Whats happened to her?!"

  "She didnt
go near the piano for that whole first year, and I feared for her mind, I really did. I can never remember Graham without her music! When at last she began to play again, I thought everything would be all right. But the music was so sad! I dont care about that anymoreIm just happy that she plays at all."

  "It doesnt make sense! She can manage quite well, and with a little help"

  Helen looked alarmed. "Oh no, my dear. Its not because of her injuries. I only wish it were. Graham lost something much more than her sight in that accident. She hasnt composed a piece of music since she came home from the hospital. Its as if the music left her that night -after she had lost so much already!"

  "But what--" Anna began, confused.

  Helen stood suddenly, gathering her things. "Ive gone on too long, Im afraid. I must sound like a silly old woman to you."

  "Oh, Helen. I know better. It must have been so hard for you all these years!"

  Helen smiled. "To have Graham home, alive, was all I wanted. If only I could see her happy again! I wish you could have known her so accomplished, so full of life. She loved her music so, and the world loved her! When she toured, the concert halls would be full! People stood for hours to hear her play. Oh, she was something to seelike a young lion, so graceful and proud!"

  "She still is, you know," Anna said softly. "I heard her play, I felt her musicit was one of the most powerful things I ever experienced."

  Helen looked at Anna strangely. "You can see it, then?"

  "Oh, yes!" Anna exclaimed. "She has such passionin her hands, in her voiceeven in those beautiful eyes!"

  Helen touched Annas face tenderly, then turned quickly away. "I think it will be good for us that you have come."

  When Anna found herself awake and restless at midnight, she returned to the library. She curled up in the large leather chair, books open in her lap, compelled to revisit Grahams past. She searched the newspaper and magazine images of the vigorous artist, struck by her vitality and fierce passion. The photos of Graham on stage, lost in the rhapsody of her music, were among the most arresting portraits Anna had ever seen. Anna was stirred as if by the memory of someone she had once known and now missed. There was a sense of loss that felt deeply personal. As Anna lay tossing later that night, searching for sleep, the strains of Grahams music echoed in her mind.