Page 91 of Sunrise By the Sea

‘No, just that you can . . .’

He shrugged. ‘But I have nothing to play.’

‘What do you mean? You can play anything!’

His head tilted to one side.

‘I mean this . . . it is so beautiful.’

‘No, forget about that,’ she said. ‘What do you mean you have nothing to play?’

‘My music . . . It was lost in the mud . . .’

‘But don’t you have copies?’

Gradually she realised, and saw at last why he had been so upset.

‘That wasyourmusic . . . You wrote it?’ she said. ‘Of course! You are trying to be a composer! Oh my God. I am so sorry.’

He shrugged.

‘Oh God,’ she said. ‘So when I was complaining . . . that was your own compositions?’

‘I am very unsuccessful composer.’

Marisa closed her eyes. ‘For that girl?’

He shrugged.

‘And you lost your music. Oh God, I am so sorry. I amsosorry.’

‘I think it was way of saying, Alexei, no more composink for you. Is no good. She does not love you; nobody loves your music.’

‘No,’ said Marisa. ‘It was me! I was so sad and I couldn’t bear it and . . . maybe I just didn’t know how to listen.’

‘You hated it,’ he said sadly.

‘I know nothing about music!’ said Marisa. ‘I think we’ve established that.’

‘No, your first note was right.’

‘My first note was a mess. This note . . .’

Alexei looked at it and smiled. ‘Your spellink is many wrong.’

‘Well, I’m very sorry about that.’

He picked it up and turned away. But Marisa was so tired of being misunderstood, and so sorry for what had happened.

‘Have you eaten?’

‘You are hungry?’

She smiled.

‘I don’t eat pizza every day.’

He frowned.

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