Chapter Eighteen

“You’re going, Mum. Touring Europe’s best orchestras with Maestro Ksenia Tokarycz? I can’t even believe you’re thinking about saying no.”

Tilda had reached peak fangirl. Polly tried to tell herself it had nothing to do with the girl watching her mother snog the world’s most famous conductor in the rain and then drag her into her bedroom not to emerge until morning.

She felt much the same way herself.

The principal conductor of the Sydney Symphony Orchestra had been late to rehearsal that Monday. Polly was very pleased to be the reason why. Though, Sumi Abe engineered Toks’ life with the precision of a drill sergeant and she hadn’t been impressed when Toks called her at eight in the morning from Polly’s bed. Polly discovered she was a little scared of Sumi now she’d heard her in action.

She winced at Toks’ response to her.

Their level of familiarity made a few things clear.

“Be nice,” she’d murmured, and was surprised when Toks looked a little shamefaced and did, in fact, moderate her tone. She kissed Polly slowly afterwards.

“Sorry,” she whispered, and it felt like she was apologising for a few things.

The autumn sunlight was magic on her bed hair.

“I think it’s Sumi you need to be apologising to,” Polly said.

Toks was still focussed on Polly’s lips. She was propped up on her elbow and her free hand was travelling south. “She’ll understand,” Toks muttered, and again, Polly knew that was weighted with extra meaning too.

Sumi would have to understand, she thought, arching up to get to Toks’ lips again, opening her legs to let Toks slip between them. Polly wasn’t going to throw this away again.

“I have to go,” Toks whispered, as she loomed over Polly. Her mouth fell open as she watched Polly grinding against her knee. “Fuck, babe. Please come with me.”

Having Toks hush her need all over her once more gave Polly her superpower. It was crazy, it was probably dangerously stupid, but she could face Europe again if Toks was with her.

She’d follow her anywhere.

Just as they’d originally planned.

But she wasn’t going to wait in Toks’ apartment in Sydney while the maestro waved her stick around.

“I’ve got two pianos to tune up at the high school at Milton Brae. And you’ve got a week of Mendelssohn and Schumann. You come back to me.”

Polly gripped Toks’ shoulders. Toks pressed up with her knee and Polly’s head drilled deeper back into the pillows. They found their rhythm like a favourite song.

“Oh god, babe, please. Come on, baby, come on. Oh, darling.” Toks made a curious sobbing noise as she watched, and Polly’s eyes snapped back open just to lock onto Toks’ and pull her closer. “I’ve missed this. Fuck, I’ve missed you, Pearl. My beautiful girl— oh!”

And Polly tumbled over the edge again almost laughing at the look on Toks’ face. “So you know what’s waiting for you,” she said, once she had her breath back. She knew that was cruel. She offered a kiss to soften her words. “You come back to me,” she said again, because the sixteen years when Toks hadn’t still hurt and one night of incredible sex didn’t fix everything straight up.

“I will,” Toks whispered, fervently, kissing her throat. “I promise.”

The sun climbed higher over the ocean. They could have stayed there all day if it hadn’t been for the world.

“Go and be amazing.” Polly pushed her out of bed and had the infinite pleasure of watching Toks stride confidently around her room, bare naked to the streaming sunshine and cocky as hell as she found her clothes and tossed them back to the floor again, still wet from the storm.

Toks put her hands on her hips and flicked an eyebrow at her until Polly joined her in the shower.

“Of course she’s going.”

Magpie had a tough-love look about her. Polly supposed the years they’d all spent caring for her – cosseting her in patience and understanding – had to devolve into affectionate bullying sooner or later.

“I said yes in the moment, but I—” Polly knew what was coming the moment Magpie opened her mouth.

“The heat of the moment? The intense passion of the moment?” Magpie fanned her own face. “The red hot, searing climax of the moment? I’m having hot flushes just thinking about it.”

“All the moments, actually, if you have to know,” Polly said, mock-primly. Nothing was going to dampen her mood this morning. “Toks asked and I figured it was just… you know, the moment—”

“Hoo yeah. The moment!”

Polly glared. “But then she asked again. And again. She really meant it. So I said yes, because—” She spun around on the spot. The deck in the crisp autumn air and the sunshine dappled through the trees and the whole world a hundred times as beautiful this morning. Because Toks wanted her. Because Toks had essentially begged her – on her knees between Polly’s legs, lying beside her later in the moonlight, one hand tracing endless patterns on her skin.

“I should have crossed the world to find you,” Toks whispered, their foreheads pressed together. “I should never have stopped searching for you, Pearlie Paterson. I should never have let you go.”

She shouldn’t have.

But Polly kissed her softly. “I should have done the same.” She wasn’t sure how, even after all those months in hospital and then pregnant with a baby she didn’t want, but it felt fair to say it. “We were both stupid. Shall we leave it at that?”

Toks gave her a look that wiped away years, and nodded. There was one more gentle, worshipping kiss, then the mood changed. She nudged her with her hips, strong thighs pressing against her own. “You think you’re going to get away with calling me stupid?”

“You think that overbearing attitude is still going to work on me?”

There were teeth at her throat and a hand between Polly’s legs in a moment. She knew exactly what Toks was going to find there and endured her triumphant chuckle.

“Seems it does.”

She let Toks roll her over again and wondered how she’d lived so long without her.

Toks had kissed her goodbye later, Richard waiting patiently in the car. She entreated her again to think about Europe and only say yes.

It was so easy when Toks was watching her like that. Yes felt like the only answer – the one that packaged up sixteen years of waiting, wishing, wondering and wanting, and exploded them out of her chest in a glory of possibility.

She didn’t have to settle any longer.

She could live again.

“I have to admit I’m nervous. It’s been so long,” she said, “but I think I want to go.”

“You think?”

“I do.”

Magpie grabbed her in an approving shoulder squeeze, then went straight back to her coffee.

“You look… different, Mum.” Tilda was watching her curiously.

“She looks relaxed,” drawled Magpie.

“Did you get some good sleep, then?”

Magpie hooted. “Kiddo, they were not sleeping.”

“I know that!” Tilda flushed crimson and her sixteen-year-old embarrassment turned immediately to belligerence. “I know what they were doing!”

“Do you, junior?”

“Leave her alone, Magpie. I slept. We both got some sleep, thank you very much.” Polly tipped her head to one side and thought about it. She’d definitely slept more than her usual hour. Curled up with Toks behind her as the big spoon there hadn’t been the slightest hint of a nightmare. “I got lots of sleep,” she said, puzzled.

Magpie nodded sagely. “Don’t have the stamina you used to, darls? The two of you are getting on, you know. You’re sixteen years older, of course—”

She cackled and protected her cup as both Polly and Tilda moved to thump her.

“I didn’t have any dreams,” Polly clarified. She saw her moment. Waited until Magpie had taken a sip of coffee. “Well, not bad ones. She gave me plenty of good ones.”

Magpie snorted coffee. “Thanks for putting that thought in my head. How am I going to sleep now? Ow,” she finished lamely, wiping coffee from under her nose.

“You deserved that,” Polly told her.

It was a truly wonderful morning.

Magpie was still being filthy with the innuendo a few days later when Draga came for dinner.

She took one look at the schedule Polly had printed out and pressed her lips into a thin line.

“We can move on from the bedroom humour thank you, Magpie. Have you looked at this itinerary? Have any of you even thought about what it means?”

That was directed at Polly. Polly was still buzzing from the solid hour she’d spent on the phone to Toks before her evening performance. They’d whispered and giggled like they were teens again. It was so sickeningly sweet Polly was flying high above the escarpment, swooping on the updrafts like the eagles. It meant she wasn’t entirely focused on what Draga was trying to tell her.

Sumi had sent through a schedule covering the four weeks in Europe that Toks wanted Polly to join her on. It was absolutely insane. Polly couldn’t believe how much Toks worked. They’d be touring the Vienna Radio Symphony orchestra through Spain, then spending a week in Milan for an opera at La Scala. There was a week with the Berlin Phil in their hometown, and a week in Severin, Korovinja. There certainly wasn’t time for sightseeing, but if she was going to be with Toks Polly knew she wouldn’t want to waste time being a tourist.

“There’s a cafe near the theatre in Milan where we’ll have breakfast every morning,” Toks told her. “Giacomo loves me. Always saves me a table on the balcony when I’m in town. It has the best view of the Duomo. You’ll love it. Spain will be hectic, but we’ll put Sumi on the bus with the orchestra and hire a driver just for us. Have you been to Barcelona? Polly, it’s gorgeous. I can’t wait to show you. We’re doing Bruckner’s Fourth actually in the Sagrada Família – incredible acoustics. And of course, my apartment in Berlin. You’ll love that too. Though, don’t imagine you’ll see much of Berlin, my darling. Unless it’s the view from my bedroom. Top floor. No, I don’t think I’ll even let you out of bed to admire it.”

“Let me?” Polly asked.

“You heard.” Toks was already smug. It was unbearable. It was wonderful. Polly melted just at her tone. And Toks called her three times a day just to let her hear it.

Polly was half thrilled, half terrified.

“You’ll be fine in Vienna, in Spain and Germany, Polly. But Korovinja? Polly, child, are you ready for that?” Draga frowned at her.

“Oh, Severin will be completely different,” Magpie breezed when Polly paused a moment too long. “It’s a bright, modern city now. One of Europe’s shining lights. I might come with you, darls, and spend some time in some of those wonderful art galleries. Find some inspiration watching the beautiful people on those lovely wide boulevards.”

“I could go with you,” Tilda piped up.

“You’ll do no such thing,” snorted Draga. “You have school.”

“Which I can do anywhere.”

“Don’t go cramping your mother’s style,” Magpie told her, as if she hadn’t planned on doing the same thing herself.

The conversation deteriorated into the usual casual bickering and Polly frowned briefly at the schedule. Being in Severin would be difficult for her, but demons were meant to be conquered, weren’t they? Having Toks’ hand in hers as she did would make it easier, wouldn’t it?

Justin didn’t think so.

“You’re out of your mind, Poll.”

Even Daz looked at her like she was mad. “Why the fuck would you ever want to go back there?”

Polly knew Justin and Daz wouldn’t be excited about the prospect of her visiting Severin. After all, it had been the awful events of sixteen years ago in Korovinja that had brought them together. They understood far more intimately than the others what she’d been through. They’d been boots on the ground in the Incident too, blood in the game just like she had been. And they’d picked up the pieces of her when she’d shattered there. If Polly had any sense of contentment and equanimity in her life, huge, generous handfuls of it was due to the gentle patience of those two men.

But she had hoped for a little more than outright rejection.

“You know what you’re risking, don’t you?” Justin said. “You still can’t sleep through a night without nightmares, Poll. You still shake like fuck when you tune an F sharp. You can’t even touch your cello without your blood pressure shooting up. I’m a nurse. You can’t hide that shit from me.”

She loved him for his care. “I know. But I’ve got to try. Haven’t I?”

Daz shook his head. “Nup. You really don’t.”

“I’ll be with Toks.”

“Also not a positive influence. She fucked you up worse than Korovinja. And you’re going to do both things together?”

“If that woman loved you, she wouldn’t ask you to do this, babes.”

They looked at her.

She scuffed the floor.

“Fuck, Polly,” swore Justin. “Tell me she knows. Please tell me she knows what happened to you – what happened to all of us – in that fucking concert hall in Severin.”

Polly’s newfound happiness crumpled into an awful, sour tangle in her chest. “I don’t want her to know. She loves her home country. She loves the Dom Harmonja. And… she loves me. I don’t want her to have to—”

“What?”

“Choose,” blurted Polly. “I don’t want to ruin anything for her just because I’m a useless mess.” She lifted her chin. “I’ll just have to be strong. I can do it.” She ignored Justin’s huff, but it hurt a little.

Daz gave her a sad smile and a hug. “Poor silly Polly.”

That was enough for her to fetch the Browning Long Rifle, but the dilemma turned out to require more shooting than the Steinway could handle.

There was no signal up on the escarpment where she took the rifle to truly examine her feelings. The timeless curve of Thirteen Mile Beach and the vastness of the ocean stretching out to the sky made her think about the fragility of life. The weapon in her hand reminded her how easily life could slip away. She’d been given a second chance with the one human being who completed her soul, and Ksenia Tokarycz wanted to share the world with her.

What the fuck was Polly doing hiding from life in the same house she’d grown up in?

She lined up some difficult targets and peered down the sights.

Raising a child was an excuse that could only stand for so long. Tilda was sixteen now. When even the child born from the gunsmoke and confusion Polly had been hiding from told her to woman up and get on with her life, it was probably time.

What was the difference between passion, salvation and ruin anyway?

Toks and Richard had already returned to Jerinja after a Saturday afternoon performance when Polly got back to the house.

Voices in the music room stopped her at the top of the stairs, hiding just out of sight.

“She’s out shooting,” said Tilda. “Up on the escarpment, I think. She does it when she’s freaking out.”

Toks was in skinny jeans again – black and tucked into boots, a jacket with the sleeves pushed to her elbows over a simple tee. Polly lingered just to look at her, the way her impatience made her hands find her hips, brushing the jacket back. The way the gold chain at her neck rested on the rise of her chest. The eagerness in her lips. The smirk that was desperate for her. For Polly. The urgency in Toks’ whole body and the way she needed to find her.

“Pearlie is freaking out?” Toks spun on the spot.

“She shoots the Steinway when she’s at her worst, so don’t worry. She’s not doing that.”

“My Steinway?”

“Only one target Steinway around here, Maestro.” Magpie was slouched on the lounge. She raised her brows at Polly, but didn’t give her away.

“Mum can call out a specific note and then hit the right strings until it’s tuned just the way she wants it,” explained Tilda. “I’m not sure what makes her darker, shooting it, or it never quite making the sound she’s searching for. Probably best to leave her alone when she’s like that. You know, memories and everything.”

Toks let that hang in the air for a moment too long. “What memories?” she asked, bleakly.

Tilda went quiet. Magpie gave Polly a hard stare, deep in her hiding place on the stairs.

“Think you better ask her that yourself,” Magpie said.

And Toks looked so hesitant, so worried about losing what little they had, Polly burst out of her corner before anyone could say anything else.

“You’re here!”

The relief on Toks’ face made Polly sure she was making the right decision. They’d had sixteen years of silence between them. What was a few more weeks? Months?

In the meanwhile, Toks was striding toward her, the relief quickening into that shiteating grin Polly adored and her hands reaching for Polly’s hips. She pulled her into a stupidly entitled kiss and the touch of her lips, the touch of her fingers on Polly’s chin, stopped all of her worries.

They’d figure it out one day.