A Man Called Darius Page 20

  I put my arms around him and our tears mingled.

  “I will not leave you now, my darling. If we cannot marry, for whatever reason, then I will live with you. I give myself entirely to you because... I cannot live without you, Darius Crane.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I had decided that I would do everything in my power to get Darius out of that little bed-sit, come what may. It was depressing and I wanted him to come back to Rowan Trees with me but he was hesitant. I tried to deceive him into thinking that he could come with me to Banbury for a few days, just to give him a break, but I needed him to take everything that was his from that place... and never return... and just how could I get him to do that? How could I get him to take everything he possessed in this whole wide world for a visit of a few days in the country?

  “Where will I get the pupils in Banbury that I have here in London, Frannie. I have twelve students now and the possibility of another two when I go to St. Mark’s.”

  “St, Mark’s?” I enquired thinking that this was the name of a hospital, but Darius explained.

  “St. Mark’s is a private school,” he said. “It is quite near here.”

  I wanted to tell him about my legacy... about everything Aunt Martha had left to me and yet I knew if I did, it would crush his independence and I could quite possibly drive him away from me. I had to think of something else.

  “Where do you teach your pupils, Darius?” I looked around the bed-sit as I asked my question. “You could never get a piano in this place, surely?” I said, but quite without knowing it, he gave me the solution to all my problems.

  “The landlord lives on the ground floor here. He lets me rent his front room, which has a piano in there. I have no troubles that way.”

  I excused myself, saying that I needed to get some shopping before I returned home to Rowan Trees, but I did not do any shopping... I went to see the landlord and made an arrangement to pay him two months rent in advance for the bed-sit that Darius occupied and the same for the room with the piano. He was delighted, but I had one proviso... I gave him the rent and another ten pounds security with my solemn word as a lady that he would receive another hundred pounds when Mr. Crane’s personal belongings arrived at Rowan Trees and I left him the address. I returned to the flat and told Darius we would be going to Rowan Trees that afternoon, only for the one night, but if he should chose to stay longer, that would be O.K. by me. I felt if he could only get a breath of the fresh air... as a view of Rowan Trees was out of the question... then he might be converted to change his mind and stay... I telephoned Frampton again and told her of my plans, but I think she must have thought I had gone mad when I told her I was going to buy a piano in Banbury as soon as I came home and would she please put an advert in the local newsagent. It was to read …

  ‘TUITION GIVEN IN PIANOFORTE’

  Professional tutor

  Apply... the Rowan Trees, Telephone 5093.

  ***

  It was so sad that Darius could not see Rowan Trees as it gleamed so beautifully in the sunlight as we drove up in the taxi. The front gates seemed to smile at us and I had never noticed this phenomenon before, in all the times I had come home in the past, from my visits to the ‘ smoke ‘ but then I had never been in love before. Frampton came out to greet us and when I introduced her to Darius, her eyes lit up and she threw her arms around him.

  “Oh, Sir,” said, “I have heard so much about you. I feel I already know you.”

  Her remarks surprised me, as I would have sworn that I had never said anything about Darius in all the time Frampton was with me in Banbury, but she later contradicted my thoughts by telling Darius that she had heard his name so often... at breakfast... at dinner... and tea... not to mention supper and she had often wondered why I hadn’t brought him home before. I was totally stunned, but when I approached her later on the matter, she confirmed what she had said was true and that I had often spoken about Darius... and of Iraq when we were sitting together in the garden. I wondered if I ever really knew myself after that, or was it just that when someone was deeply in love, they could never really hide the object of their love, no matter how much they tried... or perhaps Frampton saw the heart more than I had imagined... from her own feelings of a past love.

  She prepared the most delicious roast dinner and I watched Darius as he ate. I am sure he had never eaten a meal like it for a very long time and Frampton cried into her apron when I told her that Darius could not see her glorious repast. She had not for one moment sensed that he was blind, but I am sure it was she who convinced Darius that he would be happy at Rowan Trees and that he should never think of returning to London because later on that evening, he asked me if he could stay for ‘ just a few days’ and strangely enough a brand new grand piano arrived at Rowan Trees two days later... a little later than I had expected, but then, better late than never and Darius was stunned when he saw it … or should I say when he could feel the keys and knew how much it meat to him…

  He settled in with little difficulty and it took him no time at all to learn the geography of the house and garden, so that he was able to move about freely, without accident of knocking things over. Frampton was more than careful when she dusted anything, to return it to its original space. It was kinda like the shelves in the grocery store... and I could see that she too had fallen in love with Darius, from the way she spoke to him and in the many, many little things she did for him. He particularly enjoyed her delicious omelettes, which needless to say, pleased her greatly and I could see that I would have to watch his diet or he would get as fat as a horse... a farm-horse, that is....

  ***

  Darius stayed for a month and I knew he was happy. When I wasn’t at home, he was being well looked after by Frampton and as I have previously said, I am sure she was instrumental in many ways for making him stay at Rowan Trees. Consequently, I gave up my job as a lecturer at the hospital in London but continued to do health visiting in Banbury and the surrounds, using the old ‘beetle’; my dear old stand-by. I wanted to be with Darius as much as possible and so, even my visits were curtailed to two days a week. There was only one thing missing in my life at that time... I wished it had been a leap year.

  ***

  Darius still maintained that he should return to London, because of the trouble he was causing at Rowan Trees and because of the extra work that Frampton was expected to do, but when my dear friend and housekeeper arranged for three pupils to come to the house for piano lessons, (God knows where she got them, because no-body answered the advert) he had some of the wind taken out of his sails and he wasn’t so objectionable about staying a little longer. By the time the twelfth pupil came (and I think it was recommendation by word of mouth more than the card in the newsagents) he had settled in completely and had no thoughts or desire to return to London as he now felt able to pay something for his keep and for the care and attention that was showered on him, mostly by the faithful and ever diligent Frampton and of course....I was delighted.

  Needless to say, he was amazed and overwhelmed when I produced all his personal belongings, which were surprisingly very few, from the garage, where I had them stored until he came to his decision.

  Now my life was full, for the first time ever and every day was a day of love. The piano I had bought was the best ‘grand’ we could get at the time, but it did start the ball rolling and his playing brought life and vitality to the old, conservative and remote Rowan Trees. I often wondered what Jeremy would have thought of me now and of this new transformation to the old house that he had come to know so well and where he had committed his soul to my care on so many occasions. I think he would have been happy... in fact, I’m sure he would.

  “You are free now, my dahling... “I could hear him say and I thought how strange it was that when you are unhappy or in suffering of any kind, how life seems to drag from day to day... hour to hour and ever
ything seems black and hardly worth-while... and yet, when you are happy and in love, the time just flies by and everything is bright from day to day... from hour to hour. Life is just wonderful and you want to sing about it. That was how I felt when Darius was with me at Rowan Trees and I wanted it to go on that way, forever and ever and ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  It was a strange and beautiful world that I lived in, with a man five years younger than myself... a man who couldn’t even see me. I knew that my time for child-bearing was soon to run out as I was then thirty-eight years of age and knowing myself as I did and also being a nurse, I knew that I would have to move fast if I was ever to conceive a child, but I wanted Darius to be the father, of course but he had never asked me to marry him and being somewhat old-fashioned because I suppose of my upbringing, I was reluctant to have a baby before marriage.

  ***

  It was in November 1961 that the letter arrived from Father Garry... or should I have said, Bishop Garry? Well, both titles were incorrect as it happened, as my very good and sincere friend had now been created a Cardinal. He had gone to Rome as a Bishop and they had kept him there to promote him into the Prince of the Church that he now was. He explained in the letter that he had been created a Cardinal, although it really meant that he had been ‘made up’... anyway, the letter had taken quite some time to reach me as it had been sent to the Manse that now had other tenants and they didn’t have a forwarding address for me. It was sent back to the Post Office who forwarded it to me in the fullness of time... their time... I hasten to add. Garry wanted me to visit him in Rome, if I could manage it, as that was his home now and he wasn’t connected to the U.S.A any longer. I was delighted for him in his promotion and wrote him a letter where I said I would be delighted to come to Rome, if I could persuade Darius to come with me, but I didn’t tell the Cardinal that I was living in sin... I just said that Darius and I had met again and that we were very much in love and that we were TOGETHER, hoping he would read something nice and wholesome into that, as indeed the situation was, for us... as far as we were concerned. To my utter astonishment I received a telegram... not just a letter from Garry which read ;-

  ‘Best news I’ve had for months, Frannie... Hold on to him.’

  I could just picture Garry’s face as I read the telegram, with his bright, cheerful grin and his crossed tooth at the front and I told Darius the news of how we had been invited to Rome together, when we were sitting in the garden one lovely summer’s afternoon, under the oak tree as usual, He had just returned from a visit to Doctor Boylan for his usual check up on his eyes as there was some trouble in the spasm of the optic nerve and he was having to take tablets to lessen the tic that had occurred in his face from time to time. This caused him a lot of embarrassment, especially as he was dealing so much with young pupils and children are rarely known to be the source of discretion, when it comes to any unusual facial movement.

  “How are you today Darling? “ I asked as I poured him a fresh orange juice.

  “I’m very much better, love and the old eyes seem to be settling. It’s only the left one that’s playing up... the right one seems to be O.K. What a nuisance, eh?” He kissed me... but somehow I felt there was something wrong; something he wasn’t telling me. I watched his face as he sat down, but there was no indication that my thoughts had any foundation, other than a woman’s intuition, I suppose... so I dismissed them. Perhaps I didn’t want to accept that anything could be wrong....

  “Not so many ‘jumps’ as last time,” he added. (He always referred to the tic as the ‘jump’) “The quack has given me some different tablets for the headaches though. Pink ones … long things... Look!”

  I couldn’t identify the pink tablets with anything I could recognise, but I knew Doctor Boylan well and I was sure he was doing the best he could for Darius.

  He looked up into the thickness of the leaves of the oak tree.

  “Frannie... I’ve written some music, Braille of course and a music company in London has accepted it for publication. They phoned me earlier this morning. I didn’t trouble you with it as I had to be at old Boylan’s by 9.30, but I think they said I should expect an advance of about one thousand pounds.”

  “Oh Darling, I’m so thrilled for you. I think that’s wonderful news.”

  “Well, we’ll just have to wait and see,” he said in his usual modest manner.

  Then out of the blue he turned to me and I had never seen him look that way before. It seemed as though he was fully sighted. Even the expression on his face made me think that he could actually see me.

  “Would you like to spend your honeymoon in Rome?” he asked quietly.

  I could hardly believe what I had heard, but I saw his lips and I knew it was for real. I threw my arms around him. My happiness was now complete.

  “I love you so much, my darling,” was all I could say.

  “If you’re sure Frannie. I mean, if that’s what you really want. I’ll never be able to see again... you know that?”

  “My darling, I adore you. This is what I have always wanted. Can I set a date for the wedding?”

  He fumbled around, feeling for his orange juice, which was rather an unusual thing for him to do as he could always go direct to anything he wanted, after the first initial stage of knowing where it was. I watched his beautiful eyes, that were in reality only an ornament in his handsome face, but they were life and feeling and meaning to me. My life without Darius would have been a negative of a photograph. He smiled at me and I kissed him.

  ***

  We were married on December 4th 1961 and Darius Crane gave me a reason at last for living. I sent a telegram to Cardinal Gillespie telling him how we would be flying to Rome on our honeymoon and would be there for Christmas and the New Year. He wired back.

  ‘‘WELCOME.....I KNEW YOU’D DO IT. CONGRATULATIONS. ‘‘

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Rome was magnificent, especially at that time of year but I worried for Darius. There was so much beauty that he was unable to see and therefore I tried to take him to as many of the musical festivities as I could and explain the grandeur and the colours so that he could understand and appreciate, to some degree, what was going on around him. Fortunately, as Darius had been a sighted person for the most of his life, he was the more able to accept and understand my explanations than if he had never known what colours were, had he been born blind. He was always grateful and I think he enjoyed the ‘sights’ from my descriptions and I got more pleasure from watching him sway to the wonderful music that we heard, than from many of the other sights that were truly breathtaking. I just loved him so much that he reflected all the beauties and glories of Rome for me, which I would never truly have noticed had he not been with me. The warmth of his hand in mine in the cool evening air was my paradise.

  Cardinal Gillespie insisted that we should call him Garry and he and Darius got on very well together. They were both musicians... Garry played the church organ and would have gone on talking about music from dawn till dusk, if allowed to …and I sometimes took the opportunity to take in some of the sights on my own, when the two men in my life were absorbed... and I knew I could tell Darius all about it when I returned. It also gave him a chance to rest, as he seemed to get tired quickly when we went walking. I was his ‘eye’ and he tried to assure me that he ‘saw’ as much as I did, by the means of the music he heard. He loved the heavenly Gregorian chant of the various orders of monks in the city and he played the organ at the Church of St. Peter in Vinculis, (with permission of the Rector and in agreement with our Cardinal friend.) and he considered that to be a wonderful privilege. We also got an audience with His Holiness Pope John the twenty-third, which was an experience neither of us would forget. He was a jovial man, rather rotund and older than I had imagined a Pope to be, especially a new one... and he hadn’t been ‘made-up’ for long... He celebrated Midnight
Mass on the Eve of Christmas, which we were able to attend, courtesy of the Cardinal again. I rather think we were very privileged indeed, considering that neither Darius nor I was of the Catholic faith.

  I was sorry that Darius could not see the paintings of Michaelangelo in the Sistine Chapel, because there, I was lost for words. People were complaining of stiff necks when they stood up as the ceiling was best viewed lying flat on your back. The coliseum rather frightened me and left me in awe as I imagined the gladiators of old, sparring with their partners where I understood they fought to the death. I saw no blood in the dust, but it wasn’t hard to imagine. The Circus Maximus was much the same and my thoughts went out to the Christians as they stood their ground against the lions that savaged them as the spectators roared their delight and the Emperor’s orchestra played on regardless.

  It was a frightening place to be in, full of poignant history and the smell of death seemed to linger there. I shuddered as I walked away from the shadows of such horror and felt a little better as I entered the Temple of Vesta, where the virgins ‘hung out’ according to the Very Reverend Cardinal Gillespie. The holy staircase was one of the most memorable sights, I think... with its great picture at the top of the crucified Christ with His mother and St. John standing by the cross. I stood looking at that picture for a long time. It seemed to convey a message that I could not easily grasp and yet when I left the place and strolled around the Trevi Fountain, it all seemed to come to me. There was a peace and a tranquillity that I had never known before and the strangest thing of all... the strangest feeling of all, away out there in the heart of the Roman Empire, was the sad and haunting sound of a voice calling to me... ‘You’re free now Dahling... as free as the air…’