Fragment # 18 – Florestan’s birthday’s present

I’m waiting for Steve to come back, so that we can go to the restaurant together. The phone rings suddenly, when I didn’t expect it at all.
“Allo, Tantine?”
“Florestan? Bonjour mon poussin!”
“Bonjour ! Maman me dit de te dire merci pour le cadeau.”
“Il t’a plu au moins ?”
“Oui, oui, je ne l’avais pas encore… Bisous, Tantine, je te passe Maman.”
“Bisous, mon cœur.”
“Charlie ?”
“Hi, Isabelle. How are you doing ?”
“I’m good. Thank you very much for the toy, he hasn’t stopped playing with it since he got it. It’s a hit!”
“Well, it’s a pleasure. How’s Daniel?”
“Oh, you know your brother… He’s fine, but he works too much, as usual. Have you talked to your parents lately?”
“Er… no, no, I haven’t. Why?”
“Nothing, just a thought, they invited us for the next long weekend in Paris, and Florestan was asking if Paul and you will be there.”
“I don’t know about Paul, I haven’t seen him in ages. But I won’t be going. This weekend is the one I spend in the Isle of Skye with my granny… Actually, that makes sense, that Mum and Dad didn’t invite me. They know I’m not free.”
“Well, then, I suppose it’s sorted. Oh, Charlie, I’m sorry, I have to go. Florestan wanted to bake a cake, and he went back to the kitchen, and…”
“Sure, it’s fine. I’ll talk to you soon anyway, ok? Say hi to Daniel for me and give a big hug to my godson.”
“I will! Take care, bye.”
“Bye.”

I put the phone back on the little table, by my bed.

I open the piano. The white and black rectangles have always made me feel like a fortune-teller, who is about to read out the future of the world. For those who know the right language, music, it will be clear and unmistakable. But for the others… They’ll just stay in the dark a little longer. But I don’t even understand what I play, half of the time…
My right finger finds the C and … Hymn to Joy, Beethoven…