The Song

Part Sixty-Three

Over the next two days I poured over the piano. I didn’t care that the weather was gorgeous and the beach was calling my name, or that I had clues to hunt for. My heart and soul were all about this song I was working on.

“Jess come eat dinner!” my Dad called.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re eating,” he said, coming and shutting the piano cover right over my fingers.

“Dad!!”

“This song is great, but you need to take care of yourself.”

“Fine,” I sighed, like a small child, “I’ll come eat.”

Caroline had set things up on the back deck, tiki torches glowing to keep the mosquitoes away. We ate pasta and sipped cold white wine, my Dad and Caroline chatting about some restaurant they wanted to take me to once Aston arrived.

“Sounds great.”

“Are you even listening?” my Dad asked with a smirk.

“Not really.”

“Seriously girl, that song…” my Dad teased.

“I want to finish it before Aston gets here,” I said.

“This your gift for him?”

“Maybe,” I shrugged, a smile playing on my lips. They knew all to well that it was, but I wanted to play coy with it.

“Oh Jess, I meant to tell you, I found some old home movies,” my Dad said, “I’ve got a few more recent ones if you want to watch them tonight.”

“Home movies?”

“I think some stuff from your wedding, not sure what else is there.”

“I’d love to watch,” I said, my heart starting to pound. Was I about to uncover something?

I got myself some more wine and then got comfortable in the front room, sitting on the sofa with my feet up on the coffee table.

“Here’s the wedding footage,” my Dad said, “It’s all sort of out of order, I had it burned to a DVD from random files on my phone.”

I watched myself in white, beaming with happiness out on the back terrace of the house in London. I looked so happy, so unbelievably happy, and I couldn’t help but grin wildly when I watched Aston and I smear cake all over each other’s faces. We looked so incredibly in love.

“This is from your first visit here,” my Dad said.

It was grainy footage of Aston and I running along the beach at twilight, laughing crazily.

“What the hell are we doing?” I laughed.

“Trying to catch fireflies.”

“Oh gosh!” I giggled, just as it appeared we caught something. We were hovered over something, and then the clip went dead, transitioning into what looked like a concert.

“I didn’t know this was on here,” my Dad mused.

I saw myself in a long blue gown, smiling happily as I sat down at a piano. “What is this?”

“Your last school recital.”

I felt my heart stop.

“What?”

“Yeah, I recorded some of it,” my Dad said, “You wrote the song yourself.”

“I know. This is…” I started, only to stop as I started to play.

This was the song.

I sat and watched myself play through the song, my fingers dancing along the keys as I tapped in time with my foot. I was clearly lost in the song, my love for the piano and my boyfriend pretty evident in the performance.

“Jess?” my Dad said quietly.

“Hmm…”

“It’s ended.”

I shook my head, turning to look at him. I’d been so mesmerized by the performance that I’d completely zoned out.

“Can we watch it again?” I asked.

We watched it five times through, and then my Dad gave me the disc to put in my laptop as I moved over to the piano. For some reason I felt absolutely determined. This was it; this was the key to everything.

I watched the performance a few more times, trying to remember the song. But I had nothing. No little inklings of an idea or anything.

As I put my fingers on the keys I felt my heart drop. I couldn’t remember it. I didn’t even know what key to start on.

“Jess?” my Dad asked, coming to stand by the piano, “Are you ok?”

“I can’t remember it.”

“You’re not expected to.”

“No Dad, this was supposed to be it, the key to everything. This song.”

“Jess…”

“I need my piano,” I said firmly, determination filling my veins.

“What? Sweetheart, calm down.”

“No Dad,” I said, “For this to work, for my memories to be unlocked, I need to play this song on MY piano.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive Daddy, I need a flight to London as soon as possible.”

“You should talk to Aston,” he said.

“I will, but I need to get this flight sorted. He can meet me there, we’ll come another time soon.”

With a deep sigh my Dad nodded, heading off to find his phone as I stared at the piano again. This had to be it, I had to remember it.

My Dad helped me make the calls to transfer my ticket to the first flight out the next morning and then I was up in my room, packing all my things together as I tried to ring Aston. I didn’t want to freak him out, so I told him just to give me a ring when he got my message.

He must have been busy with a gig though, because when I attempted to go to bed that night I still hadn’t heard from him. It wasn’t like I was going to sleep anyways, but it was clear that he thought I was. Even so, I thought ringing him at 4am would only making him worried.

Instead I watched the recital over and over again, trying to unlock that memory. But nothing. I knew that my piano was the key to it all.

The next morning I got on a little plane, connecting up to New York so I could get a flight overseas. I was so determined about the entire situation that I couldn’t think of anything else.

It wasn’t until I was at JFK airport in New York City, waiting for my connection to London that Aston got through to me.

“Hey you ok?” he asked.

“Ast… I’m flying to London.”

“What!? Why!?” he panicked.

“I found it.”