The Testimony of Taliesin Jones (68 page)

'You've
grown again, my Darling. Let's have a look at you
.
Yes
,
you really have,' she says
.
Then she draws breath a
nd
s
tops t
o
l
ook
at th
e
hou
se
a
nd h
er o
ld hu
sband
s
tanding th
ere.

'
Hello T
om,' s
he sa
ys
.

H
is fa
ther's reply is b
arely
a
udible. Sh
e
ki
sses
hi
s fa
ther
a
nd T
aliesin
th
inks
of Ton
i
-th
e
m
an s
he k
isses
th
ese
da
ys
.
B
efore T
oni, his mother
wo
uld h
ave
k
issed
hi
s fa
ther in
a
di
fferent
wa
y,
on the li
ps.
N
ow
T
oni ge
ts th
e
lip
s a
nd hi
s fa
ther
ge
ts th
e c
heek.

N
erves
mak
e
the open
ing exc
hanges h
asty a
nd unintenti
onally
thou
ghtless
.

'It
's a
bit
s
hort i
sn't
it
?'
h
is fa
ther
says
,
indi
cating
hi
s mot
h
e
r's n
ew
l
ook.
H
er
h
air
i
s
n
early as s
hort
as
his
o
wn. H
er
r
adical to
nsure
s
hows of
f
h
er a
ngular f
eatures a
nd fr
ames
h
er face
in a confid
ent
w
ay.

‘I’d he
ard
th
at
y
ou
h
ad
a b
eard,' s
he
sa
ys.

'
Didn't
s
uit, re
ally.
A
f
resh
s
tart,
yo
u kno
w.
H
ow w
as th
e
dri
ve?'

'
The ro
ads we
re t
errible
.
I'm n
ot s
ure
w
hat tim
e
th
e
r
e
m
oval
van will be here
,'
sh
e
s
ays.

'Jon
c
an help me move s
ome
of th
e
pi
eces
into the sh
ed
if th
ey're
l
ate.
And Tal'
s
co
oking
for us
,
ar
en
't
y
ou T
al?'

H
is
f
ather
pl
aces a
hand on hi
s s
on's
h
ead.
Taliesin can d
etect
a
s light sh
ake
in it
,
just as th
ere i
s
a s
hake in th
e v
oice.
B
oth o
f his p
arents
look at him
,
un
able
t
o
look at
ea
ch
oth
er.
H
e is
the
o
nly
thing the
y
hav
e
in
common no
w a
nd a
s
th
ey e
nter th
e
hom
e
h
e
bec
omes
th
e
fulcrum
for th
eir
conv
ersa
ti
on;
a d
iversion
from
th
e
difficulty of talkin
g
dir
ectly
to
ea
ch
o
ther. The
plat
itudes
come th
ick
a
nd fa
st.
It
's
Grown-Up
s
peak a
gain,
th
e s
hady
a
rt of not
s
aying
what you m
ean.
T
aliesin
h
as
th
e
impression
th
at
hi
s
father
i
sn't
thinkin
g
much
a
bout wh
at
he's
saying bec
ause
he
's
too busy suppr
essing
his d
eeper
f
eelings
.
H
is
moth
er
is bolder
,
abl
e
to m
easure
h
er
word
s
with
mor
e
certainty and to look at his f
ather
a
s
sh
e s
peaks. It'
s e
asier
for her to do this becaus
e s
he do
esn't
love him any mor
e.
Taliesin imagines how the photographs from
her second wedding album will compare to her first. Her expression to the
camera will be more assured this time, with much of the unreasonable expectancy
of the first album replaced by a wary realism. The smiles will all be a little
less forced, the faces wiser and a little worn
.
It
will have to be a short album because there will be few
guests and no family there to photograph.

It
is hard to believe that this is the woman who has caused
such enmity and anger. She is affectionate, beautiful and here. It is easier to
disapprove of someone when they're not there to defend themselves.

His mother moves tentatively through the house,
re-acquainting herself with the place she abandoned
.
She looks around and
things come back to her.

'I should have fixed those curtains,' she says to
herself.
In
the dining room
Taliesin asks his mother if she wants some tea -the eternal medicine
.

'I'd love some,' she says, sitting down in one of the
chairs that she intends to take back with her. '
I
think the drive took a bit out of me. '

Taliesin leaves his parents alone together, unsure of
their ability to cope in such proximity
.
He hears the door being closed and their voices become
muffied. He puts on the kettle and walks back and tries to catch the gist of
what they're saying. It sounds as if they are talking about him. It annoys him
that they discuss him and not themselves
.

'We all went through that,' he can hear his mother
saying. 'He's at that age
.'

He
makes exaggerated noises of approach to give them time to change the subject.
His father is now sitting down, with his legs out and his elbows on his thighs.
His mother has taken off her coat. When he puts down the tray his mother
praises his effort. She then walks over to the piano and sees the score of
'Bugles!' on the stand
.

'Are you still practising, Tally?' she asks, peering at
the score and preparing herself to play it
.

'Not really,' he replies, no longer afraid of admitting
it.

His mother sits at the stool and begins to play the piece
,
falteringly at first
and then with a natural facility; with all the ri
ght
weight and nuance and the
perfect pausing for 'the gaps'
.
Billy would applaud this
.

'Can you play this?' she asks
.

'No. I haven
't
been playing much,' he says.

'Why don't you have a go?'

'No Mum
.
Really I can't.'

She play
s
it again, well enough to convince Taliesin that he will
never be able to play the piano like this. He doesn't have her gift. He never
did. His own special gift is not as readily appreciable as hers, but it is, as
Billy told him, more beautiful than music, and one day, he hopes to share it
with her.

Jonathan enters the room and his mother stops playing
.
She los
es
her comp
osure
for the first
time. There is no doubt that Jonathan ha
s
grown since she left but she is unable to say so
.
Jonathan h
as
matured in other
ways. Since he's been with Rachael he'
s
become more at ease with himself
,
and his 'Hello Mum
'
is impressively
breezy for someone who for six months couldn't mention her name
.

'We'd bett
er
start taking
s
ome of the furniture out to the shed,' his father says
,
feeling that the
room is cluttering up with too many thoughts
.

His father
a
nd Jonathan start with the dining room table, holding it
up above their shoulders and carrying it funereally
,
mindful of steps and
catching corners. Jonathan is marginally taller than his father
a
nd it shows in the
tilt of the table
.
They carry it away and leave Taliesin alone with his
mother and the piano
.
She take
s
his hand
.

'Is
everything okay? Your father says that you've been a little quiet lately
.
A bit lost in your own world.
'

Ta
liesin th
inks
th
is strange, a
nd ri
ch,
so h
e
ju
st says,
'I'm
a
ll ri
ght.'

L
ater,
in th
e
k
itchen,
hi
s
m
other
k
eeps w
anting t
o
d
o
th
ings, as
i
f gu
ilty th
at
e
veryone
i
s
d
oing
thin
gs a
nd
s
he i
sn't.
Sh
e ex
presses r
emorse a
t
co
ming to
c
ollect th
e
fu
rniture, s
aying th
at i
t
won'
t l
ook
ri
ght i
n T
oni's
hous
e
.

'
Sometimes I d
on't k
now
w
hat I'm doing
.
Oh
Go
d,
w
hat
a
m I d
oing?'
s
h
e says
.