Vanstein Copyright

Chapter 11 – Good News

“Mom hasn’t come home.”

With her favorite rabbit doll in her arms, Angela stood at her neighbor’s entrance.

Angela had been entrusted to this neighbor’s house on several occasions when Merch was unable to return home as a result of work obligations. The neighbor, a family of police officers for generations, had treated Angela with her single mother, with amiability from time to time.

The benevolent police family offered meals, a bath, and warm blankets for Angela.

And so that carried on for the next day and the subsequent days as well.

In the end, Merch never returned home after that date.

Although her police neighbor investigated various aspects of the situation, the whereabouts of Merch was elusive, and thus Angela was compelled to turn to a distant relative whom she had never met.

Then after relying on the acquaintance and on the relative… Angela moved from one unknown family to another for nearly a year, until she finally ended up in an orphanage in the suburbs of London.

In the large hall of the orphanage, there was an old upright piano.

Every morning, noon, and night, day in and day out, Angela played “Papa’s Song” on this piano so that if even the faintest melody of the song reached her mother’s ears, it would convey to her that she was here and that her mother could find her. She thought that she would be praised for how skillful she had grown.

Since the same piece was played each day, the children at the orphanage teased her, leading to frequent quarrels.

On the advice of the teacher, she told Angela that of course she can play “Papa’s Song,” but once in a while, she should play a different song or even a song that the other children liked.

Over time, when Angela would play the piano, the children would congregate around her, singing songs with the accompaniment and bursting into laughter with their silly dances.

Even among the adults, Angela’s piano performance was valued by them. At the church established together with the orphanage, it was Angela’s job to accompany the hymns.

As long as the sheet music was available, Angela could play any hymn at first sight, and her piano skills were superior to those of the other adults.

During Christmas, Easter, or other events, while the children were performing a drama, she would amaze the spectators with her operatic accompaniment.

If she could not play the piano, Angela would often fantasize about her mother while gazing at the locket pendant.

She believed that integrating into her surroundings and finding her place among the people around her would have been much more challenging if she had not been able to play the piano.

As Angela grew up, she never felt a twinge of resentment against her mother’s absence. Nevertheless, the piano playing skills that her mother had imparted to her were a source of confidence that enabled her to confront any hardship that she might be subjected to.

It was a skill that would never be snatched away from her, even if she were to be deprived of all her possessions.

Although difficult times would happen, happiness would follow as long as I kept on playing the piano.

For Angela, these were words worth believing in, and it was undoubtedly her mother who laid the foundation for her to do so.

When she opened the locket pendant, there was her mother in the picture beaming at her. It was as though she was complimenting Angela for continuing to play the piano.

That smile made her believe that instead of harboring a grudge against her mother, her mother must still love her from a certain place, and reminded her to play “Papa’s Song” once more tomorrow.

After the age of 12, even though her role at the orphanage had shifted from being the one being cared for to being the one doing the caring, she kept on playing “Papa’s Song”.

Since the name of the piece was childish and embarrassing, she renamed it “Requiem” as a prayer for her father and mother’s left hands, respectively.

Then came a scorching summer Sunday, when Angela, who had just turned 16, went on to play “Requiem” early in the morning.

As that was a Sunday when worship services were conducted, this was one of the rare days in which the grand piano in the chapel could be used.

Her performance was naturally loaded with passion, and “Requiem,” a piece she had been well-versed in, was enveloped in a solemn tone, colored by the morning sunlight that penetrated into the chapel.

Bang.

Without any warning, the large door of the entrance opened, and a noblewoman stepped inside, closing her parasol. The time was rather early for a member to attend the morning worship service.

Angela rose to her feet, wondering if by any chance that was her mother…

The backlight streaming through the open door obscured the noblewoman’s face.

Strolling gracefully to Angela’s side, she removed her hat, which was adorned with feathers, and offered a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Angela.”

By the gesture of taking the hat with her left hand, Angela understood that this was not her mother, yet the palpitations in her chest did not abate at once.

Angela was struck speechless by the nervousness and could only manage to shake her upturned, crimson face in a broad, vertical motion.

“I have good news for you, my dear.”

And that was how the encounter with Ms. Jacquelyn began.