Part 7

And now... Ava wanted to play the piano for a career. Kathy leaned back into the car seat and closed her eyes.
She couldn't let her do that. It wouldn't work, she was too much like her father to stick to anything and make a career in it. If she studied law, and got a good job, even though she might lose interest in it she would still be getting paid well. But if she got this career in music and lost interest in it, it would be fatal. She would be useless all the rest of her life, not good at anything, a drudge, just like her mother and father. But why was she so persistent? Stubborn, like Paul had been. She wouldn't give it up.
Kathy tried to look at it through Ava's eyes. She didn't know about her father, what he was like. To her it would probably seem as though her mum was telling her not to do something she really wanted to do, for no reason. Because she hadn't given a reason. Well, if Ava was going to be so stubborn about this, she'd have to give one. Tell her about her dad. She didn't want to do that, unlock all those memories she'd kept a secret for years. Kathy sighed. She'd just have to. She opened the door, got out and locked up the car.

As she walked around the corner of the house, she could hear music being played. She didn't know what it was, but it sounded gentle and refreshing, like a warm Spring day. Then the music changed. It slowly became agressive, the gentleness was gone and all that was left was a torrent of angry notes, cascading down like an angry voice. Kathy felt her heart beat faster. Then, as she opened the back door and walked into the corridor, the music had changed again. A note of hope had crept in, and the music became gentle again.

Kathy leaned on the door post of the living room, watching her daughter play. The slim fingers danced over the white keys in perfect time, and her face mirrored what the piece was saying. Suddenly Kathy wondered if playing the piano meant more to Ava than she had thought.
The music had stopped. Ava was aware of someone else's presence and looked up. As she saw her mother standing there a bitter look came into her face. She stood up, put the music book on the rack and closed the lid of the piano. She walked past Kathy, but her mum laid a hand on her arm.
She looked like she wanted to say something, but was embarassed to say it.
'Ava, you play so well... I'm really sorry about the concert... and – I'm sorry I was angry about it.'
Ava glanced up at her mum. Did she really mean it? Her mum's expression told her she did.
So she was expected to just forget how mean her mum was? Act like everything was okay suddenly, just because her mum was having a few pangs of consience? Ava held onto the grudge.
'You're sorry, but you won't let me play at the competition, will you?' Her voice was hard.
For once Kathy didn't have a sharp reply ready.
'Ava, I think we need to talk about the piano playing... and your dad.'
'We never talk about my dad.' Said Ava rebelliously.
'Well we need to talk about him now.' She sighed, and sat down on the sofa. 'Come on, sit down.'
Ava didn't want to, and she didn't like being told to, but she sat down anyway.
Kathy began. 'You don't know this, but your dad used to play the piano.'
Ava interrupted. 'I know that, Granma told me.'