‘I played the mandolin for my mother,’ she said simply.
His gaze narrowed but he didn’t realise what she’d told him. What it meant. She smiled at him. ‘I learned the violin for years, but I found the mandolin in her wardrobe one day when I was clearing it out. It belonged to her great-grandmother.’
‘It’s old, then.’
She nodded. ‘I don’t know how she put up with me picking out tunes by ear painfully slowly when I first started. I guess it was a distraction.’
‘Because she was sick.’
‘Cancer, yes. It took a long time.’
‘That must have been hard.’
She hadn’t spoken of this in so long. But Felipe was quiet and never going to tell. He trusted her, which allowed her to trust him. ‘I looked after her. I was happy to. I dropped out of the course I was studying, lost touch with most of my friends. But I did my creative projects at home while caring for her. I loved music, art, baking...silly stuff.’
‘Not silly.’
She smiled at him gratefully. ‘It’s something we shared.’
‘Where was your father? Your brother?’ He frowned. ‘Were they—?’
‘My brother, Caleb, was at university. He’s older by a couple of years. My father worked. He struggled. Was absent.’ She frowned. ‘Actually he wasn’t great. He cheated on Mum. He promised me it was a one-off thing. That he’d been stressed. I’d thought it was just...he was lonely and it was hard with Mum having been sick for so long. But it wasn’t one lapse. There were times earlier I’d just been too young and naive to be aware of them. My mother protected me from all that. I’d thought that everything was fine. But he was a cheat in every way possible.’
Felipe was still.
‘Mum’s illness worsened. There was this new medication she could have but it was expensive. My brother set up a crowdfunding page, you know? I made some things even to sell to raise the money. And we got some in. Quite a bit. But one day right near the end...’ She closed her eyes. ‘I’d written a song for Mum. It was just for her. From me to her. She was so frail and I didn’t know...’
He stiffened. ‘Elsie?’
‘I didn’t know Caleb secretly recorded me the first time I played it for her,’ she whispered. The only time. ‘He uploaded it to the site—to solicit more donations. It got attention. It got a lot of money. Really quickly. Far more than we needed because by then...’ It had come too late for her mother. Elsie still felt so cold, so hurt to think of it. ‘Dad and Caleb said they were setting up a foundation to raise more money for other sufferers. I believed them—Caleb was studying accounting, you know? But next thing Caleb arrives in an expensive new car. My dad has a new watch...and Mum had died.’
‘Oh, Elsie.’ His arms tightened about her.
‘I finally figured it out. I went to the police. Testified against them. They faced fraud charges and were sentenced to prison. Caleb’s out now. Turned out Dad had been embezzling from his business as well so he’s still in there.’
‘And you’d lost not only your mother.’ He gazed into her eyes. ‘But your music.’
‘I couldn’t play at all for a long time. It was only...’
‘Here.’
Yes, on Silvabon. In the sunshine, sitting at the back of the café on a break, looking at the sapphire-blue water. She’d finally begun to defrost and to hear fragments of melody in her mind. Her music had returned. Some of it, at least. And then Amalia had appeared and she’d needed it too.
‘I can’t play that song at all any more,’ Elsie whispered.
It had been taken from her. The precious moment between her and her mother hadn’t just been commoditised, it had been used to con people out of their money. And as a result, she’d been abused in more than one way. Something that had been secret and special had been exposed for public scrutiny and, ultimately, mockery. The glowing compliments had turned as the truth of the money funnelling had emerged. Critics of her composition had shredded her. But it hadn’t been intended for anyone else. She wasn’t a performer like that. Maybe it had been a little sweet, but not ‘falsely saccharine’—like the scathing assessments.
Calculated to pluck your heart strings and open your purse.
‘I didn’t know he’d recorded it.’ She blinked fiercely. ‘I didn’t know he was going to use it like that.’
‘That was the violation of your trust, Elsie,’ Felipe said roughly. ‘That was the betrayal right there.’
Shame filled her when she thought of it. Shame and such devastation.
‘They stole that moment from you,’ he muttered. ‘I’m so sorry.’
She swiped away the tear. ‘Please don’t watch it.’