“Miss Matthews is it now?” she laughs. Her eyes seem to have regained some sparkle after the half term holidays. The classroom door closes with a click, the room falling into quiet except the muffled noises from the corridor. I had thought of her during the break. Something hadn’t been right with her before then, and I vowed that if she
Alexandra Ravensbrook
was still withdrawn, I’d start doing some digging with the other teachers if they knew of any concerns.
Her laugh still sounds a little forced, so I’m not entirely convinced.
“Well, a little bird told me you had applied to teaching college. Who knows? You may end up being my boss one day. I better start being nice to you.”
She would make a wonderful teacher—she is patient, studious, and captures attention with her music performances.
“Take a seat, Isabelle.” I gesture to the piano stool and grab the sheet music I had ready for her to practice.
“Debussy’s Arabesque is kicking my backside. I just can't seem to make it flow right.” She frowns, dropping her bag to the floor before flopping onto the stool with a resigned sigh.
“I’m sure you’re doing fine with it. Three more weeks and you’ll have it in the bag. Let’s start with something a little more fun to warm up.” Sitting next to her, I nudge my shoulder against hers, trying to cheer her up.
She turns to me, tears welling up in her eyes, her voice hoarse as she whispers, “I’m going to fail. I know I will. There's no point anymore.” Looking down at the piano, her fingers drift over the ivory, exerting no pressure on the keys as she sits in silence.
Yes, Miss
“Isabelle, is everything okay with you? You seem very down and distracted. It’s not like you,” I ask gently, wishing she would open up to someone, even if it isn’t me.
Her shoulders stiffen slightly as she wipes away the tears brimming in her eyes. “Nope. Nothing. I’m fine.” She shudders in a deep breath as her spine straightens, and she places the music sheets on the stand.
“Isabelle, if you ever need to talk, you can talk to me. It won't go anywhere unless I have concerns over your safety or wellbeing.” I look at her face, trying to discern any sign that she may be in danger. All I see is a mixture of sadness and tenacity, a strength behind whatever has caused her grief.
“I’m fine, Sir, honest. Just broke up with my boyfriend, that's all.” Her voice is firmer and clearer now, providing some small reassurance to me.
The knot in my stomach relaxes at the news that she’s ditched that asshole. Hopefully she’ll move on from him quickly and feel better.
Taking her lead and deciding not to press the issue, I move on with our lesson, wanting to see a smile on her face once again.
“Okay, now let’s liven things up….” I start with the first few notes of a song that never fails to put a smile on her face when we’ve played it together.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
“Things have come to a pretty pass…” She sings the first verse quietly, going easy on her voice.
By the time we get to the chorus, her smile is bright and her fingers glide over the keys as I join in.
“You say either…” My deep baritone, a stark contrast to her soprano.
“...And I say either..” she laughs as she sings, and my soul settles a little more.
“You say neither…”
“And I say neither…” She turns, grinning at me as her mind whirls with what we always do next. My favourite part; finding random rhyming words as a substitute. It usually ends in laughter, but it’s a sure-fire way of easing her worries and getting her to relax before her lesson.
“Weaver...” She belts out, her voice quivering from poorly contained laughter.
“Driver…” I sing, trying not to laugh in anticipation of what she might go for next.
“Beaver...” She sings loudly, now dissolving into laughter.
“Fiver…” I start laughing myself, and the notes trail off as she bends over cackling, her tears now ones of laughter.
She takes a few moments to stop, and I let her, watching the stress leave her body as she straightens. She
