Pavarotti, a Christmas Story, Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Armed with her violin case, Liza pulls the door of the sexton’s house shut behind her on Monday afternoon. Tomorrow, the students from the music school will take part in the world-famous “Gouda by Candlelight.” This afternoon, they’ll have their final practice and instructions.

She looks up at the grey clouds hanging low in the sky. Maybe it will snow. She almost hopes it waits—then at Christmas, the city can be wrapped in an extra-thick blanket. She loves the quiet, fairytale feeling snow brings.

She pauses. Should she walk along Moleneind, or take the path Behind the Church? If she goes past the church, she might run into him. If she slips through the street behind her house, she’s being childish. Avoiding things only works for so long.

“Okay, be brave,” she murmurs to herself. Still a little tense, she chooses the path past the church. She glances back toward the Willem Vroesen Garden. A pair of shivering tourists have just stepped through the gate and are heading her way, probably in search of the warmth of the church shop. No one else is around.

She scans the path along the church all the way to the bend. A thin crust of ice covers the narrow, murky ditch beside the cobblestones. She passes the little bridge leading to the Catharina Gasthuis and peers through the gate into the museum garden. Empty.

At the stonemason’s workshop a few metres farther on, the noise is deafening. Everything in front of his door is coated in grey dust. She quickens her pace. Her ears ring with the shriek of the stone saw.

Along the side of Saint John’s, buttresses jut out here and there—like the legs of a crane—to keep the church from sinking into the marshy ground the city rests on. Liza glances behind the supports and steps carefully under the archway that connects the church to the opposite side of the path.

Just beyond the arch, tucked against the right side of the church wall, is a deep recess. Sheltered from the wind and pitch-dark at night—an ideal hiding spot. Liza tries to peek around the arch before she reaches it. She doesn’t watch the uneven cobblestones closely enough. Her foot slips, her ankle twists, and before she knows it, she’s on her knees on the cold stones.

Stupid girl, she scolds herself. Don’t get so worked up over something that probably isn’t even there.

Her case has sprung open and lies five feet away. She reaches for it, but her knees protest. Better to stand first.

“May I help you?” a warm, cheerful voice calls from behind her.

There he is, shoots through her mind. She feels the blood drain from her face. Her arms and legs turn to water. She turns her head and meets his dark-blue eyes. He smiles and holds out his hands to her.

Shy and unsure, she takes his hand. In a moment, she’s standing again. She brushes the dirt from her clothes and accepts the violin case he’s picked up from the street.

“You need more sleep, miss—that’s how accidents happen.” Her cheeks heat instantly, the warmth spreading through her.

“I have to go to music school,” she stammers. “I should keep going.”

Inside, she berates herself for being such a coward. Say something nice, she urges, but her mind feels packed with spray foam. Nothing comes out.

She looks at him once more. His eyes and mouth are still smiling, and his bright white teeth flash. His long black hair falls to his shoulders. She doesn’t bother looking at his clothes—she can imagine well enough.

“Bye,” she manages. Turning quickly, she heads off. Her ankle aches a bit, but it holds.

She reaches the attic on Westhaven just in time. Mr. Kwartsmaat is already standing there with his conductor’s baton, ready to give the opening notes. Still breathless from the stairs and the shock, Liza slips into her usual seat beside her neighbour and gathers her things. Before long, the music wraps around her completely, and she finally begins to calm down.

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Chapter 3

Did you enjoy the first chapters of the Christmas Story? Would you like to read other stories, too? I’ve two books for you, you can start reading today.

Hitchhiker: nineteen, homeless, and chasing a dream — can Nadia survive without losing herself? She left with hope. She stayed for survival on Victoria’s unforgiving streets.