Imagining Us

Ch.42- Get me out of here or not?

By some miracle—probably adrenaline—she found her way downstairs in some sort of sitting room.

The decor of the home continued to amaze her—the touches seemed like so much thought was put into them.

Esi would've loved to see this room in the daytime. There were long drapes blanketing large windows that would allow for enormous amounts of light in the day.

It felt like stepping through history, and she could almost hear the clinking of tea cups and hushed whispers of gossip among ladies.

She would have to ask Porte about the room sometime.

This room also held one of her favorite things in the world, and even if she'd seen every other room in the estate, she knew that this would be one that she came back to.

The main attraction was the grand piano in the center of the room.

She glanced over her shoulder to make sure that no one saw her, then headed towards it.

Her hands shook as she reached out to run it along the piano.

It was a bittersweet experience. Esi had never dreamt of the day that she would touch an actual Bösendorfer . Her grandpa would've loved to see it.

She looked over her shoulder again—the royal blue-plushed bench was right in front of her; the keys were an arms length away.

No one would know.

Esi would just lift the lid quietly for a quick scale, and hope she didn't get found out and booted from the house.

She slid in front of the bench and quietly shuffled it closer to the piano.

There was so much anticipation to hear the keys as her fingers hovered over them.

She thought of one of her grandfather's favourite songs—one of the first that she remembered hearing him play—"Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" by Bach.

It wasn't the most subtle song, but she would try to play as softly as possible, and her version would be more simplified because she had memorized what she could remember of it.

The fullness of the notes echoed throughout the room—bouncing off of the drapes.

Esi didn't realize when her eyes had closed as she lost herself in the music with a few wrong notes here and there.

It brought her back to Trinidad, to her grandfather teaching her music, to him practicing his hymns for Sunday morning service.

Her eyes burned from the memories; she sniffled as she played, trying to keep herself composed.

The final note was played, and she already missed the feeling.

Clapping interrupted her moment of peace, and she spun around with a gasp.

There was a tall figure leaning against the doorway.

Mr. Danvers.

"No one has played that instrument in more than twenty years," he started gruffly. "This room—he gestured around—belonged to my wife."
He walked towards Esi, a hand running along an arm chair as he passed.

Esi sat still, unsure about whether she should keep sitting or stand.

Why did she come in here?

Where was Porte?

"She loved history...had a strange fascination with the Elizabethan Age," he murmured fondly and softly. "That time is a bit too 'off with her head for me' though."