London Harmony: Water Gypsy (4 page)

Then next day, I was excited to get to work. Paya commented on my playful mood as we cleaned the rooms. I took extra time scrubbing the hardwood floors in Teresa's office. We would be waxing them next week and I wanted to give her no pause in our work.

I shared that Ronnie had texted me earlier in the morning and wanted me at a rave, Saturday, a week from tomorrow. He wanted me to sing a full three song set. Paya was chuffed.

At lunch, my bestie forced a large container of pasta on me. She's always worried about what I eat. I just sometimes forget is all. I stood in the middle of the hall, looking down toward the break room, then toward my storage room. I betrayed myself and headed to my storage room. I listened as I ate. Then sang along with the lesson.

Lunch was almost over and I started cleaning up my things when the door opened and the light switched on. I stood quickly and said, “Missus,” to Teresa, who was just taking me in from head to toe in that impassive manner she had. I felt like a schoolgirl in my lessons, I almost kicked myself for calling a woman my age Missus. I hope it didn't insult her.

She was in a plum dress this time, immaculate and pressed. This one had a small white vest over it. She seemed to have a thing for white, but I wasn't complaining, it looked amazing on her. Her hair pulled up into a tight bun, no hairband today, not a single strand was out of place. I took note that yes, she was wearing makeup now, it got my eyes warring between focusing on her smokey eyes and her glistening lips.

She looked at me and the sheet music on the top of my stack of things in my hands. She uttered a single syllable, “Well?”

I blinked. Well what? I glanced down oh... I asked, “You... want me to sing?” She made and exasperated sound and made a motion with her hand to continue. I blinked and said something intelligent and well articulated, I believe it was, “Ummmm.”

I blushed in embarrassment then put my stuff on the shelf I was standing by. I looked at the sheet music then took a couple conditioning breaths and started. She just cocked her head slightly, listening. Then when I was done, I went to grab my things so I could make a run for it.

She exhaled sharply and shook her head. “Again.” I shrugged, still not knowing what was going on. So I started and she held up a hand and snapped, “Pay attention. Apply yourself. Now start again, remember the lessons I highlighted.”

I knew I couldn't do this, it was beyond my capability, but I did feel like I was improving. She stepped up to me shaking her head in exasperation, into my personal space as I sang. I could smell her pleasant flowery scent and I tried to ignore the flush of heat I was feeling. She reached out with both hands and grasped my sides, her palms on my stomach and she applied pressure.

That forced my breathing higher in my chest and the tone of my voice deepened slightly, I had to force a waver out of my voice at the heat from her touch. She nodded and stepped back. “Like that.” Then she turned with a satisfied look on her face and spoke over her shoulder, “Practice that over the weekend then we'll continue.”

I blinked and watched her go. My skin buzzing under my uniform dress where she had held her hands. My god, the woman, was beyond sexy, even being an emotionless ice queen. Wait, practice? Continue? What the bloody hell was going on? Was I in a Twilight Zone episode?

I looked around as if someone were watching. I grabbed my stuff and hustled out into the hall. I noticed a well-coiffed middle-aged woman with glasses stick her head out of the adjacent classroom with a curious and confused look on her face. I turned and scurried to my cleaning cart. Washrooms, I'd clean the washrooms the best I could for the green-eyed woman.

Paya took me to dinner with Harry at her parents, I was distracted, going over the day's encounter in my head, still feeling the heat from her hands on my stomach. I decided to do my best in the lesson this weekend, to try to improve so she didn't have anything to criticize. Though I knew it was beyond my capabilities.

I shook those thoughts aside and concentrated on having some quality time with my bestie and her family. They were such spectacular people. When I was dropped at home that night, I stayed up practicing until I tired of Wendell's persistent moaning and whining about the screech owl noises I was making.

But then the git was silent when Mrs. Thatcher said softly through the wall, “Sing me a song Tabitha dear? It always lulls me to sleep.” I smiled, the woman reminded me so much of my own grandmother. I can still remember her smile every time we went to visit on holiday before she passed. I said gently, “Ok.”

I chose a cover of a throwback hit of the emotional Brown Eyes, by Mandy Fay Harris. I've always loved the emotion that woman threw into her music. That mysterious J8 reminds me so much of her, and her voice is spookily similar to the rock legend. Oh! Speaking of, it's the second Friday of the month! J8 has released a single every other week for months now. She hasn't released an album yet. I queued up the new single, Thursday Nights, to download from iTunes.

Then I started singing for Mrs. T while I closed my eyes and let the music flow through me. It was a haunting melody, it always left me with a calm melancholy when I was done. I let the words carry me along in their wake as I sang softly. There was something about this song that just felt like hope and love and an odd sense of healing maybe? I was never quite sure.

I finished and took in the silence from Mrs. Thatcher's room and smiled. Then Wendell said quietly without his usual snark through the wall, “Good night Tabitha,” Mr. Illes added from his room softly, “The voice of an angel my tiny virag.” Then from below, I heard, “Good night Tabitha.”

I smiled warmly, this was my own little surrogate family here. I said, “Good night everyone.” Then I snuggled deeper under my covers to fight the chill air as I drifted off to sleep.

***

Paya rang after the generators shut down for the morning. I answered with my customary, “Hiya Paya!”

She groaned then said, “Hey girl, you catch the new J8? I am so going to be first in line for concert tickets when that woman tours. She's brill!”

I chuckled, she was such a fan-girl...
yeah fine whatever, so was I, shut your piehole.
I replied, grinning to myself, “I queued it last night, haven't had a chance to listen.”

She chuckled at me. “How am I supposed to squeal properly with you when you're behind the times. Listen to it and ring back.” Then she added, “What did you have for breakfast?”

I rolled my eyes. “I need to hit the grocery today. My cooler is barren.” Then I added, “Mum.”

She brushed that off with “If I were your mum, I'd feel a failure if I didn't make sure you ate properly. But you'd have the hottest mum at the school outings. It wouldn't be fair to the other children having dowdy mums.”

I shook my head, my grin threatening to split my face. “You are so full of yourself missy. I'll eat something this morning after I hit the grocery.”

She chastised, “You better, now promise me. Just say yes ma'am.”

I rocked my head side to side and made a goofy look at the mobile and said, “Yes, ma'am. I promise.”

I could hear the satisfied grin in her voice as she said, “There's a good girl. Now listen to the song so I can go on about it without you looking like a bloody muppet, then ring back.”

I chuckled as she rung off. Then I sighed and attached my headphones to my mobile and started the new track, Thursday Nights. There was always something about J8 songs, every word had double meanings and every emotion had two directions. Like there were a song inside a song, like a secret between two souls. There was the song she shared with the world, and the one that was something private, a whispered promise to another heart.

I caught the beat and couldn't help swaying with the melody as the woman sang. I wanted to be outside where I could close my eyes and dance to the hypnotic rhythm. The words cut into me, painting a picture of an old black and white movie, of laying under the stars watching a story unfold in front of you and the one who holds your heart. The wonder in the eyes of two souls as they are swept into the story. The excitement of, not knowing what would come next. Then the movie comes to an end, leaving only hope, anticipation and... love? This song was about love. She loved someone with all of her heart. I opened my eyes and took a deep breath. Bloody hell, that was intense.

More than ever I wondered just who this woman was that could paint the world with broad strokes of emotion like Mandy Fay could. I thought about the hope and love in the song and longed for the day I found the heart that matched mine in all the ways this song intoned like she did.

I caught myself humming the catchy tune as I opened the music book and continued reading. I gleepd in mirth when my mobile buzzed. A single word from Paya, “Grocery.” She knew me too well. I sighed and closed the book.

I hopped up and checked myself quickly in my little mirror, bundled up, then stepped out into the warming air. The barge looked wet as the snow and ice melted. It was supposed to be around three degrees today, the bitter cold snap was finally ended.

I grabbed Mrs. T's rubbish and wandered down the plank to the shore, taking in the spectacular view of the Thames over my shoulder. I shook my head in disbelief as I realized I really loved living on the water, I only wish the living conditions weren't so squalid. Hell, running water and a toilet that wasn't a shared chemical toilet that made me want to lose my stomach contents when I used it would be a plus. I grinned, I had only used the sodding thing a handful of times since I became a tenant here. I have myself trained to wait until I can get ashore to Joe's or at work to do my business.

I found a rubbish bin and stuffed the bag into it. Then I headed for the closest grocery. There was a quaint little Co-op, just down the lane. I didn't want to spend much lolly, and had to stay away from anything that needed to be cooked since I could only use my little hot-plate during generator hours. So it was mostly prepared foods, fruits, veggies, sandwich supplies and to my glee, lunch meats since the winter months were cold as a fridge in my room.

I was able to get supplies to last a week for just under seventeen quid. I still cringed at that, I had to start getting more frugal if I wanted to get a flat sooner than this time next year, It would be nice to avoid another winter on the barges. No more splurging at the food carts.

I gave my finger to a taxi that almost flattened me in the zebra crossing on the way back. What a tosser! I arrived home with my meager offerings and stuffed them into the styrofoam cooler. I had learned my first week here not to keep any food on my little shelf or anywhere else in the open. It was quite a fright to wake up to see two rats just a few centimeters away eating my bread. I had screamed like a bloody girl.

We don't normally have vermin problems, the Captain has poison and traps stuffed into every nook and cranny. Ours are some of the most livable of the floating slums. But sometimes we get mice or rats that come on board at night on the planks, I didn't want to advertise for them. Mrs. T says that is why she has Terminator, I guess he has tallied an impressive body count. I grinned at the idea of the little dog taking on a rat half his size.

To keep my bestie happy, I ate some buttered bread and an orange then kicked back to read and to practice that bloody impossible lesson Teresa had given me. I could actually sing it at normal volume now that the barge was mainly empty except Mrs. T and I. I found it difficult to control my tone on two fortepiano transitions between octaves without sliding.

I slowed it down and tried the passage at half tempo. I spent most of the day on it and I could hear some improvement. It was so frustrating. I had thought I was at least a passable singer, but if this is a regular lesson, then I was sub-par. How did I ever think I could ever go beyond singing at raves or karaoke bars? I kicked myself for the negative thoughts. I didn't want to disappoint that marvelously frightening woman.

I started again, varying the tempo and trying to slip into the sweet spot where my voice just took over from my mind and body. Where it could make the words into real music that could touch people, share something of me with them.

I was about to throw the papers when my mobile buzzed. I didn't even look. “Hiya Paya.”

There was a pause. “Whoa, who nicked your last biscuit?”

I smiled and let my frustration bleed out of me. “Terribly sorry. Just so bloody frustrated with this lesson. I feel like a poser if this is what music really is.”

She almost snapped, “Nonsense, you are bloody brill woman. I wish I had your voice and the conviction and feeling you put behind it. Now, get yourself gussied up, we're doing karaoke tonight Tabs.”

I groaned. “Payaaaa. Why not just go out clubbing instead?”

She said in a cute sing song manner, “Because I... want to sing. Be a good girl and get ready, we'll be at the road in an hour.” An hour? I realized that my room was getting darker, it was twilight outside. Shite! I had practiced the day away.

I sighed. “Ok. Fine. But I'm not going to like it.”

I could hear the grin in her voice. “Bollocks, you love it and you know it.”

I shook my head with a crooked smile and said, “I hate that you know me so well.”