The night appeared to be humming. Vibrating with an intensity so vibrant in such a melancholy tune that Hecate felt as if the stars were weeping, the moon in mourning. It went well with the frozen sky, something that she loved but it sounded peculiar in the open air. Like the heavens had drawn back the curtains. It had taken a while to realise that this time it wasn't in her head. Someone was definitely playing somewhere. She ran her eyes over the landscape and saw a light glowing in the boathouse belonging to the neighbour nearby. On the balcony, Hecate could see the yellow lodge house. Curious, she slipped out of the front door and wound her way around the path and hedgerows that separated their houses, the moonlight leading the way.
The light was on at the boathouse and Hecate tentatively peered inside. She was not a natural snooper and chided herself for her curiosity but the lure of the music was overwhelming. Her neighbour, Miss Cackle, was a kindly woman who worked at the dance school in town. Hecate had never thought about what position she held there. Maybe she was the receptionist? But watching Ada furtively, she thought anew. She couldn't have been more surprised than if Ada had been a prima ballerina. She was not. She was still doing quite the unexpected. She was sitting in an antique chair, bow in hand, tending lovingly to the cello nestled inbetween her legs. She looked like she was in a world of her own. Hecate's eyes were drawn to the pale green culottes she was wearing. She'd never seen Ada wear trousers before. Obviously it made sense when playing such an instrument. Hecate didn't think she'd dare, it seemed a rather shocking pose in public. Nevertheless, she couldn't help noticing the woman's dainty ankles.
The music was divine. Hecate wondered that if the music in her head that she sometimes heard in the night was actually her neighbour playing in her boathouse. She stood entranced at the door as it swirled around her, soaring and dipping like a flock of swallows, steady as a robin's stare. She must have made a noise for after finishing her piece, Ada looked up, sighed and smiled.
'Hello again' she said. They'd met earlier that day in the ice cream parlour, Hecate debating between the pleasing shades of cappuccino, cream and almond. She liked bittersweet flavours. Ada had strolled in and had surprised her by ordering a combination of pistachio, coffee and sour cherry. Not the sickly flavours she'd thought that such a pastel attired woman would choose.
'This one is delicious' Ada had said, pointing to the matcha. Hecate thought it looked radioactive but she took her advice. It really was delicious, bitter and intense with an underlying kick of sweetness. Hecate turned to thank her but Ada was already gone. They'd only met a handful of times since Hecate had moved in and had gone as far as exchanging pleasantries once in a while but they hardly knew each other. Now Hecate wanted to tell her how the music whirled in her brain, made the sky relax and struck a splinter of flame in her heart.
'I appreciated your choice of ice cream' was what Hecate actually said. She felt like a fool. But Ada looked at her and seemed to understand what she wanted to say.
'I'm glad you enjoyed it' she said, resting a hand on her instrument. Hecate thought she meant both the music and the ice cream but wasn't sure. The silence should have been uncomfortable but it wasn't.
'I had no idea you were so talented. You play so beautifully. I never knew this is what you did at the dance school.'
Hecate couldn't think why she hadn't seen Ada carry the cello case around town. Maybe she wasn't as observant as she thought she was.
'We have a bare bones orchestra. It gives us a motivation to continue our life's work and not fade away into office jobs. We were lucky to be employed there. The recession has not been kind to artists.'
Hecate had realised that but didn't think she knew any artists. She hadn't needed to think about it. She was from the world of academia where education was always in demand somewhere.
'My mother would have liked me to be a teacher. But I couldn't settle in a classroom. Not my kind of environment. The theatre is my medium. But in absence of that, the dance school is good for now.'
'Have you been playing each evening? I thought I'd heard it but for some reason I thought it was in my mind.'
Ada tilted her head and smiled sadly.
'Who says that sometimes it isn't in your mind? The stars sing. Even if you don't realise that's what you're hearing.'
Hecate didn't know what to say. In the soft light, Ada's pensive smile glowed even though her eyes were merry, thankful to be able to pick up her cello and play even though her darkest moments. Hecate had only seen her cheerful and bustling, a gentle whirlwind and to see her sadness peeking through made her heart churn. It was such an unusual sensation that she felt a bit lost. Unsure of herself around Ada.
'I've never thought about it that way.'
'That's the beauty of music. It's a magical power, really, a healing power in a way. It makes time stand still and casts a net over your troubles for a while. It's such a live energy. I don't know where I'd be without it.'
Hecate had never heard of music being described this way before. Music was outside her comfort zone and she felt like she hadn't really understand the full impact of it until now. They conversed about more mundane matters and Ada offered her a drink. Hecate accepted, feeling at ease around the other woman and she drew up a chair and sat for a while, listening to the soft crescendo creep into her soul and take root. She had already decided that she would break her habit of not allowing people into her private space and invite the other woman over to her house to talk some more. Listen out for the music that highlighted the sky. Because Ada and her music was just too enticing.