Page 71 of Sunrise By the Sea

‘What the hell?’ said Indira, starting forward.

The owner of the hand slowly straightened up outside the French windows, also wearing a mask, standing well back and putting his hands in the air as if someone was pointing a gun at him. It was, to Marisa’s total astonishment, Alexei.

‘Sorry. Sorry. I late. Sorry!’

‘What the hell are you doing?’

Carefully, Alexei pushed the French doors open a little and revealed a large electronic keyboard.

‘Sorry. Everyone in village know there is wedding, I think, wedding sad without music.’

‘Well, I’m afraid—’

‘No way,’ interjected Linnet. ‘Are you going to play for us?’

He squeezed Denys’s hand who squeezed back, and they looked at one another.

‘What you like?’

‘You can play anything?’

‘I try.’

‘Hang on,’ said Indira, watching in astonishment as, over the garden, figures started appearing, bright in the sunshine, and clearly dressed for a wedding; more and more. It looked to Marisa’s eyes like the entire village. Mrs Baillie and Mrs Bradley and dozens and dozens of friends wandering over the hospital grounds in their finest wedding clothes, hats and flowers, bottles of champagne, waving madly. Denys had to take a long draw of oxygen but started waving and grabbing at Linnet, who now had tears in his eyes.

‘I can’t allow this,’ said Indira. ‘You’re all going to have to go—’

‘Ah, Indira, come on. As long as they stay outside, what harm can it do?’ said another female doctor. Everyone backed up a few feet. There were curtains separating them from the rest of the ward and the patients. Everyone stared at the fierce doctor.

Indira rolled her eyes.

‘It will agitate my patient.’

‘Good,’ said Denys, with some effort from the bed.

‘Make it quick,’ said Indira to Marisa, who opened her book.

‘Do you know . . . “As”?’ said Linnet. ‘It was . . . is . . . it’s kind of our song.’

‘ABSOLUTELY NO SINGING,’ said Indira.

‘Mr Steven Wonder?’ said Alexei. ‘Of course. He genius like Shostakovich.’

And, gently, he bent down and plugged the keyboard in, and to Marisa’s absolute astonishment, after all the horrible clatter she’d been subjected to, set a gentle grooving rhythm on the keyboard, and started playing, sensationally, the uplifting song, picking out the melodic line with his top fingers, as if he had three hands.

It was, it turned out, almost impossible not to sing along. It was absolutely impossible not to dance to the groove and everyone dotted around the garden started to jiggle just a little, as did the line of nursing staff behind them. Even Mrs Brodie was tapping a foot.

Linnet and Denys stared into each other’s eyes and mouthed how they would love each other always. At the very final chorus, one of Linnet and Denys’s friends could not contain themselves any more, and in a voice of extraordinary power from behind a tree, belted out the last chorus, which meant automatically Alexei kept on playing it, until, gradually there was an entire choir singing, a chorus of people out in the garden, joined by more and more as you could hear the windows open all over the hospital.

The mood of the entire room changed completely. The sadness evaporated: there was clapping, and smiling, and eyes full of happiness. When the song ended, the applause rang from every window and doorway.

‘All right,’ said Marisa, smiling. ‘Before you are joined in matrimony I have to remind you of the solemn and binding character of the vows you are about to make. Marriage, according to the law of this country, is the union of two people, voluntarily entered into for life, to the exclusion of all others.

‘Now I am going to ask each of you in turn to declare that you know of no lawful reason why you should not be married to each other . . .’

She was hustled out as soon as they had both legally signed the register, but she couldn’t help smiling all the way out in the corridor, for overcoming something she had been dreading, and as soon as she reached the car park and could pull off her mask, she took in the fresh air in gulps, thankfully, feeling guilty for what she had left behind – but she had done her job.

She glanced around for Alexei, but he was nowhere to be found. Faintly, though, she heard the faintest suggestion of ‘Don’t You Worry ’Bout a Thing’ across the dingy car park. She guessed he was busy. There was a party going on back there, whatever the hospital authorities had to say about it. She considered joining them, but decided against it. She felt depleted. But it was done.

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