Page 8 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt
‘Well, that was the last thing I was expecting,’ I heard Evelyn say, as she flapped herself with her fan.
‘You, monsieur...’ Louis began, ‘you are, well, quite remarkable.Thatwas quite remarkable for a boy of your age. Tell me, where did you learn to play?’
I was not going to put the violin down while it was in my hands to find my scrap paper, so I just shrugged at him, hoping he’d ask me to play something else.
‘I told you, Louis, he does not speak.’
‘What he lacks in the vocal cord department is made up for by the sounds he makes with a violin.’ Louis smiled at his mother, then turned to me. ‘You are exceptional, really, for one so young. Here, let me take it from you and come and sit down and have a cup of tea.’
As Louis approached me, there was part of me that simply wanted to clasp the violin to my chest, then turn tail and run.
‘Do not worry, young man,’ said Evelyn. ‘Now I know that you can play so beautifully, I will be encouraging you to do so as often as possible. The violin was my husband’s, you see. He also played beautifully. So the violin lives here with me, under my bed. You may put it back for me,’ Evelyn said gently as she pointed to the case, which was lying on the floor. As Louis made tea, I put the violin tenderly into its nest. The name of the maker was printed on the inside of the top ofthe box. It was one I’d never heard of, but no matter. The sound quality may not have been as good as my papa’s, but it would do. Any violin would do. Evelyn did not ask me to put the case away, so it sat next to me as we all drank tea and I listened to Louis talk to his mother about the course he was studying.
‘Perhaps one day I will be designing the next new Renault car,’ he said.
‘Well, apart from being proud of you if you did, you know how much I would like that; you will live close by, rather than so far away in Lyon.’
‘It is not for long – only another eighteen months before I graduate, then I shall write letters to all the car companies and see which one decides that they need me and my skills.’
‘Even as a small boy, Louis was obsessed with cars,’ Evelyn explained to me. ‘There were not that many on the road in those days, but Louis would draw what he imagined to be a modern vehicle, and do you know, they are very close in design to what the car companies are now producing. Of course, such things are only for the rich...’
‘Ah, but soon they won’t be,Maman. One day, every family will have one, including me.’
‘Well, there is nothing wrong with having dreams, is there?’ Evelyn replied kindly. ‘Now then, young man, are you able to finish up this cake, or shall Louis put it in the tin for tomorrow?’
I decided I had space for more and I took the last slice from the plate.
‘So, what is it that you are passionate about?’ Louis asked me.
I pulled out my scrap paper and wrote three words:
Food!
Violin.
Books.
I addedreadingin brackets, and then handed him the note.
‘I see.’ Louis grinned at me after he’d read it. ‘I’ve certainly seen the first two in action today. Did you speak once?’
Not wanting to look as though I was thinking to pause, I decided to tell the truth and nodded.
‘May I ask what happened to turn you mute?’
I simply shrugged and shook my head.
‘Now then, it isn’t our place to ask, is it?’ Evelyn interrupted. ‘He’ll tell us when he’s ready, won’t you?’
I nodded, then hung my head in sorrow. Even if I couldn’t use my voice, my acting skills were coming along a treat.
‘Why don’t you stoke the fire, Louis? The nights really are starting to draw in.’ Evelyn gave a sudden shiver. ‘I don’t like the winter, do you, young man?’
I shook my head vehemently.
‘But at least Christmas brings in the light to our homes and our hearts and it is something to look forward to. Do you like Christmas?’
I stared at her, then closed my eyes as a memory of a day when the fire had been burning brightly, and the smallest of presents had been handed out amongst us after church, came to me. There had been meat for our supper and some special delicacies that had been made. I had enjoyed it, even though it appeared in my memory like a picture in a book, as if it didn’t belong to me.
