Page 113 of Sunrise By the Sea

‘She didn’t agree?’ ‘No.’

‘Oh. What did she say?’

‘Always. “Look at you in your little house with nobody to play for and there is people in St Petersburg and people in Moscow and you are here which is where it is nowhere! And your music is no good!”’

‘It’s not nowhere,’ said Marisa. ‘You love it here!’

‘She says I am very, very sad man.’

‘That’s not what it sounds like from my side of the wall,’ said Marisa.

‘She makes me feel so sad.’

Marisa sat down next to him against the wall. She barely came up to his shoulder. Her heart felt like it was breaking. But she still had to be a friend for him.

‘Well, when you are sad what do you normally do?’

He shrugged.

‘Music. But I am too sad for music.’

‘I cannot believe you are saying that.’

He stared at the floor, still distraught.

Marisa sighed. And took a deep breath.

The idea of doing what she was about to do would have felt utterly preposterous, even before she’d become ill. On the other hand, now she’d found her courage, it felt that she didn’t even know how many different ways she could push it if she wanted to. Well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

And although the man she had thought about so very much, who had become so dear to her, was sitting next to her, crying about some other stupid girl, she couldn’t help it. She was going to try and help him anyway. Because he had helped her, more than he knew.

As they sat there together, she cleared her throat, opened her mouth . . . and started to sing.

In the quietest, most mouse-like voice, barely audible. But it was singing, nonetheless.

E cedo a vostri desideri . . .

mi fai la tua amante. . .

At first he didn’t turn, didn’t react. Very softly, but tunefully, she carried on with hernonna’s favourite song, or at least her favourite song that wasn’t a hymn.

Lontano di noi sapienza

più tristezza

Her voice trembled but she thought hard about the words and their meaning:

Wisdom is so far from us . . . there is so much sadness . . . I want a precious instant . . . where we will be happy. I want you.

He turned to her.

‘That is beautiful,’ he said in his low growly voice.

Marisa shook her head.

‘It isn’t,’ she said. ‘I was just trying to reach you.’

‘Don’t stop.’

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