The Fabric of Family

Our families had been friends for generations. Our mothers were friends and their mothers were friends and their mothers were friends. If there was such a thing as a friend tree, like a family tree but for friends, then our family’s branches would be intertwined. Perhaps even down to the roots. The Majors and the Castles. The women have always kept their maiden name and passed it onto their daughters.

My name is Alwyn Major, and I am about to turn fifteen in the year 1995. I used to play with Jasmine Castle all the time when we lived in the same street. Our mothers had a fight and we moved away two years ago. I had wanted to write to Jasmine, but my mother said that I was not allowed to.

“You will find new friends” She would say.

My mother and Jasmine’s mother had always told us while we were growing up that we were destined to be best friends and the told us of the story of our family’s history. Jasmine and I were enchanted by in and determined to continue the tradition. We spent many sleepovers talking about how we would also have daughters who would continue our family legacy. Our daughters would probably explore space together in the year 2000 we thought!

I was going into year 10 at school and had made the decision to be a musician. I had become a bit of a loner when we moved. My heart was broken at the loss of my best friend and our dreams were shattered on the kitchen floor of our mothers. My mother never told me what had happened, but we did leave without my father. I found solace in playing the piano and so the piano became my new best friend. I was quite good, and I enjoyed composing music.

One balmy Sunday afternoon, I was composing a song and my thoughts led me to Jasmine. I wondered what she was doing now. Did she like music? How was she going with schoolwork? Most of all, did she miss me too? So, I decided to go against my mother’s wishes and, with a notion that Jasmine would understand music, I decided to write the first four bars and then send it to Jasmine to finish the next four and we could send it back and forth. I could sneak a letter in the mail on my way to school. I would use stencil writing on the envelope so no one would recognise that it was from me. There would be no return address so I hoped it would reach her.

I had not felt this excited for a long time as I folded the manuscript into thirds with my first four bars. I wrote a short letter, talking about the music and how much I missed her and had wanted to write.

P.S. Sorry I was not strong enough to write earlier

I sealed the envelope and found a stamp in my mother’s office drawer. I licked it and stuck it on the envelope.

“I am off to school now!” I yelled from the front door.

I did not even wait for a reply. I raced down the road to the red post box and mailed the letter. The next few days were excruciating but finally, one week later, I had a reply waiting in my room! I ripped open the envelope, as carefully as one can when you want to preserve what is inside but cannot wait to read it!

Dearest Alwyn,

I have missed you so too and was so excited to read your letter. You do not need to be sorry about being strong enough, I had not been either. I do love music. I am focusing more on English at school though. I have had a go at adding bars to your song. I am sure they are not as good as yours, but I would love to keep working on it together. It could be like an heirloom quilt except each patch is a new set of bars in the music. Please keep writing….

The letter continued and my heart swelled over every word. There is something romantic about writing a letter to someone but when you receive a letter back, I could not think of anything more wonderful. It was something you could always hold. Always read whenever you wanted to without relying on your memory of what someone said. Letters documented history, just like this piece we were creating together would.

I took the manuscript to the piano and played the eight bars together. It was such a lovely phrase. I wrote the next four bars. Over the following two years, until we were both finishing high school, we added to the piece each week. It was now quite a work of art at 11 pages. It moved through a range of emotions. I had just received the last bars from Jasmine, and I finished the piece off with my last four bars. I wanted to perform it at my final recital. I sent Jasmine and her mother an invite.

On the day of my recital, I sat down to breakfast with my mother.

“Are you excited about tonight?” She asked.

“Yes, very much so” I replied. I had worked hard on my four pieces and was looking forward to debuting The Fabric of Family, this was the title I had given mine and Jasmine’s song.

“Mum, I invited Jasmine and her mother tonight” I blurted out. I did not know how else to bring it up.

She did not respond right away, she just popped another mouthful of rice bubbles in her mouth.

“Good,” She said once she had swallowed.

“Good?” This was not the response I expected.

“Yes, it is time I spoke with her mother and we mended fences. I know you have been writing to Jasmine, honey. I am glad for it. It was wrong of me to say you could not. Our fight was so silly too.”

She paused, looking like she wanted to say more.

“Mum?” I prompted her; eyebrows raised.

“You know your father was not an honourable man?’

“Yes”

“Well, he got into quite a bit of trouble with the law and I found out about it and went to Jasmine’s mum to talk about it. She said some things I did not want to hear because I still loved your father. Instead of getting mad at him, I became really mad at her” My mother explained.

“That makes sense, it happens.”

“When your father was taken away, I was too ashamed so that is why we left.”

“Do you think you can be strong enough to apologise?”

“Yes, and I want to be very much as I have missed my friend just as you have missed yours.”

“We have been writing a piece together that I am performing tonight. It is our version of the quilt!”

“That sounds lovely. I cannot wait to hear it”

My recital went better than I could have hoped, and I received a standing ovation at the end of Jasmine and my piece. I called her up on stage to take a bow with me, introducing her as the co-writer. After the show, we raced off to the café up the road together, yelling at our mothers to hurry up and catch us! We all sat down, and it was like old times. Of course, our mothers forgave each other, and we talked about how sometimes silly things can lead to such big holes in our hearts. We all made a pact to never create such holes again between each other. Jasmine’s mother mentioned to mine that our old house was up for sale and Jasmine and I talked about going to art school together, me with my music and her with her writing.

When we moved back into our house, I found a box of all the collected items from our family’s history. There was some music in it which I had not noticed before. It had the title “A Piece for Sarah”

***

1902

I was only ten years old when we arrived in this new country. There were some children who had lived here for a while and I was placed in the schoolhouse with them. I was shy, learning to live in a new place.

“My name is Sarah Castle. What is yours?” A blonde curly-haired girl said matter-of-factly.

“My name is Tilly Major. Do you like the piano?” I replied. I loved the piano and I was so grateful that we were able to bring mine with us.

“I do but I cannot play it. Do you play? I would love to hear you play?” Sarah said.

She came over that afternoon and I played her some songs and we became the best of friends. We swore that when we got married, we would keep our names and that our daughters would always be friends and keep their names too. Sarah was so bold and so matter of fact that I immediately knew these things to be true. I sat down and wrote her a bossy piano piece that very day.