Soul Music

SOUL MUSIC
Candice was just registering that the stone doorstep was too cold for
sitting. But she didn't bother to move and continued staring out over
her back yard. A mid October sun cast low over the end, highlighting a
haphazard border with a few shrubs and the spent seed heads of summer
flowers, tangled with weeds The fence panels also were faded, grey and
slightly bowed. Dan should have replaced them in spring but somehow the
job was relegated to the bottom of a long list that they had never
completed.

There was a patch of grass in front of the border- not really worth
having, except the last owners had left a garden swing behind. They had
moved to the terraced house four years ago, just before she was
pregnant with Suzie and when all she had wanted was a gravel path,
flagstones and some of the brightly glazed pots she'd seen on a TV
garden makeover. But later her mother's opinion changed all that. She
had stood majestically turbaned at the back door and, folding her
strong arms across her chest advised "Girl! When de baby here you'll
need de swing. And -" she pronounced with evangelical conviction "De
garden swing muss have de grass!"

Last year there was a bare patch just beneath the swing where Suzie had
jumped on and off the seat, on and off, off and on, or drummed her
trainers impatiently: "Swing me! Mummy, Swing me!" she would cry. It
was an afternoon like today when Suzie had seen ants for the first
time.
-Mummy! Mummy! Look, there's animals. Look! She had yelled over to the
kitchen door to where Candice was sitting now. Her daughter was on her
knees examining the cracked earth beneath the seat.
- Mummy, come on! she insisted.
Candice had sighed and moved across to where her daughter knelt. She
crouched down beside her and together they examined the circle of
hardened earth where the ants scurried between the cracks.
-They're just ants love. But Suzie had already jumped back onto the
seat.
-Push me mummy! Push me! Higher! Higher!

None of that mattered now. Candice smiled to herself at the memory of
something so trivial, yet she stood up as she had done last year and
moved towards the swing. She pushed at the empty seat. It twisted
awkwardly and swung back at her shins. Then she closed her eyes and
felt for the weight of the seat beneath her hands. She pushed harder
this time but with more care so the seat swept forward quite smoothly
and as it traced its downward arc she heard Suzie wail again. It was a
distinctive wail and Candice reluctantly opened her eyes.

She stepped back into the kitchen. It seemed darker now and more
cramped with an ill-assorted range of old melamine cupboards, an
unstable gas cooker, a small pine table in the centre of the yellowing
vinyl floor. Suzie's wail continued, weaving through the curtains and
sliding over greasy plates piled high in the sink; it echoed into empty
milk bottles and punctured the rhythm of the kitchen clock.

Candice knew what she had to do.

So she sat at the small table, placed her fingertips at her temples and
in slow circular movements massaged the wail from her mind. Then she
could hear Dan, up for his 2 o'clock shift, moving across the landing
from the front bedroom into the bathroom. She took the mirror and her
makeup bag from the windowsill and began with foundation, smoothing the
liquid up over her throat, out along her cheeks and across her
forehead. Dan was coming down stairs as she lined her lips, and he was
there in the mirror standing behind her as she carefully applied the
first deep red coat. He rested his hands on her shoulders, gently
squeezed them. She froze slightly, and continued deliberately, reaching
for powder to dust her face while he stroked her cheek. He nuzzled her
neck, his skin soft and fresh soaped clean.
-You're lookin' good girl. Off somewhere special then? He asked.
-Nowhere really. Into town. Do some shopping. Just wanted to make an
effort, that's all, she replied to his reflection.
-Well, I'll be off in a sec. Will you be out long?
-'Til evening I should think. You know how long it takes with the buses
and Suzie.
He moved round the table to stand in front of her. He looked at his
wife and she continued looking at her mirror.
-Look love you mustn't&;#8230;&;#8230;&;#8230;.
-Mustn't what? She said levelly, without looking up. "Go on. You tell
me what I mustn't do."
-Torture yourself, he said. Please love, don't do it. You're being too
hard on yourself.
-You don't understand. You can't.
Dan did not respond in words. He reached across the table and she
turned from him to put the mirror back onto the windowsill.
-Go off to your factory Dan, and let me get on with my day.
He went to the front door then returned to kiss his wife on her
forehead. "Love you", he whispered and was quietly gone.

She glossed her braids and twisted them into a coil on top of her head.
Then she found her bag and went to the full-length mirror in the
hallway. She smoothed the faded red dress over her stomach and turned
sideways, hands on hips and smiled at her profile. She could do a good
smile - even make her eyes sparkle too. And although her dress was
shabby and her heels were worn, she was tall and her movements still
very graceful. She continued smiling at the mirror and the mirror
smiled back. "You're lookin' good girl" she told the mirror out loud.
But she was not sure if the mirror believed her.
************
It was almost midday when she reached The Glass Cellar. It was a club
across the city on a side street next to the railway station. Discarded
flyers, some pink, some blue lay scattered around the entrance,
advertising the weekend's act. She picked one up instinctively and read
that Polly had been singing. Envy lashed her throat. If it had not been
for Suzie her name would have been on that programme.

She went quickly down the steps to the Cellar and pushed open the door.
Every inch of the walls seemed to be covered in antique gilt mirrors,
all shapes and sizes, giving the room a quality of infinite space and
yet the illusion of a crowd. In fact the crowd was still quite small
but she fancied that some heads stopped talking, just for a second or
two, or turned in her direction when she walked towards the bar.

-Well hello there Lady! Called Al the moment he saw her approaching.
"Nice to see you again. Grace - "he called over his shoulder to the
kitchen "Look who's 'ere Grace!" And then
- Dan with you is he?
-No. He offered to look after Suzie so I could get some time to myself.
You know, off to the shops and that." She hesitated for a moment,
nakedly betrayed by some shopping bags that would have supported her
story. Nevertheless she looked directly at Al. "So I am footloose and
fancy free for the whole day."

Grace eventually came out of her kitchen. She was a childhood friend of
her mother's and they had arrived from Jamaica at the same time. She
came round the bar and wrapped Candice in a warm embrace "Oh darlin' it
is nice to see you. So nice. Where you been all dese months, eh? Don't
be a stranger to us no more, you hear?"
Al turned to Grace "Candice just tellin' me Dan left holding de baby
dis afternoon." he said and raised his eyebrow in that code that
partners share. Grace would join the deceipt. What else could they do?
Candice had had a rough time, and no one should go through all of
that.
He turned to Candice -What you 'avin' then, love. On de 'ouse.
-Vodka and tonic. Large one please Al. Make it very large and loads of
ice.
-Good. Dan left holdin' de baby an' you come out an' enjoy yourself,
said Grace. Well, Ah mus' get on. Ah talk later when me finish in
dere." And she disappeared into her kitchen.

Candice turned the cool glass in her hands, building courage for what
she had set out to do. Al busied himself wiping down the bar, drying
glasses. "Fancy free den eh?" he repeated at intervals, more or less to
himself, not knowing quite what else to say. What could he say to a
woman who had suffered like Candice. Anyway if she wanted a good time,
his job was to keep her happy. No harm in that was there?

Every now and then he glanced at Candice. She sat at the bar, back
straight, legs crossed, seeing but not watching while the mirrors
consumed the crowd. When her thighs felt the gaze of a man sitting near
the door she saw his reflection but she did not turn to look, even when
he moved in.
-Another pint and whatever the lady's having.
Candice remained straight on her stool and drained her glass.
-I'll have the same again, she said. "Thank you."

She swayed to Private Dancer, brushing the stranger lightly on the
shoulder.
-Like Tina Turner then?
-Sometimes.
-Aven't seen you in 'ere before? He probed.
-Likewise
She never did see his face, not even during the long silence that
ensued, so he drank up and disappeared back into the crowd. The vodka
had given her the courage to ask Al for what she wanted. Or should she
ask Grace? Well, she figured that Al would be bound to check with Grace
anyway.
-Al? She asked tentatively.
-Yes love?
-Al, I want to sing.
Al relaxed into a sparkling grin. "Praise de Lord! Welcome! Welcome
back! Me only sayin' to Grace dis weekend, dat Polly can sing but when
Candice sing she fill de rooftops!" He went on excitedly "An' now de
new season just startin' you pick a good time to come back. We can book
you some fine nights Candice, some fine nights." Then something in her
face told him to stop.
-No Al, I have to sing tonight.
-But today is Tuesday! We don't never 'ave singin' on de Tuesday.
-Al, she said. Al please. I need to sing tonight.
Al cocked his head to one side and reflected briefly: here was
something he could not understand. "Me 'ave to talk to Grace. Soon
come."

Grace stood patiently stirring curry goat while he elaborated his
tale
-I know, I explained it was Tuesday an' all but&;#8230;
-Man! You crazy! De girl lost her babie -Praise de Lord she not lost
her voice. So if de girl wanna sing let her sing! She'm a sing good and
she like sing. Anyway, when she sing de people stay an' drink -maybe
eat more me curry goat. You'll see.
**********
Candice stood on the platform while the infinite mirrors at once
absorbed and multiplied the crowd. One hundred Graces, hands on hips,
alongside countless Als pouring endless pints before faceless men and
women, now laughing, now turning. Then she sang.

The sound flowed from her core and beyond her fingertips to cocoon her
in a world that revolved round the sound of her voice, and where
haunted shadows slowly ebbed away. The crowd was still and fancied it
was drawn into her world but the crowd could not know it. For the song
was hers and she was the song.

And even while the music was fading and the crowd applauded she walked
down the steps and out of the bar, carrying her song within and drawing
her world around her into the night.

**********
So she unlocked the front door to her home where the song replaced the
wailing, and where Dan was smiling and was hugging her as though she
had been away for a very long time. He was taking her hand and leading
her towards the kitchen, telling her he had a surprise and opening the
back door. She stood and stared out over her yard.

The shrubs were neatly trimmed and the border weeded. The grass had
gone and there was her gravel path, and flagstones with the blue glazed
patio pots filled with vibrant autumn flowers. But the swing was
gone

-No! Wailed Candice. "No! No!" Her voice broke, her world evaporated.
Where had it gone? Where was Suzie's swing? Where was her daughter's
the cry, where was her song?
"It's all gone! What have you done! She turned on her husband and
flailed at his chest. "What have you done! How could you.
" You've taken Suzie. You've taken her away from me. You've taken her.
How could you? How could you?"

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