Hey there! I know, compared to my normal postings, this is incredibly early! But hey, I think it's time to pick up the pace. As I mentioned earlier, I am hoping to bring this story to a close before Christmas, and if that is not possible, as least by the New Year. So expect more chapters soon! I hope you enjoy this one! Please comment, I love to hear from you all.
Later that morning
"Will that be all sir?" the maid asked as she began to clear away a breakfast tray of lukewarm tea and half-eaten toast.
Florian was silent and looked out the window in distant thought.
Antoine spoke for his friend as he entered from the adjoining room, "Yes, thank you."
The girl nodded and hurried from the room, carefully closing the door behind her.
Hearing the door shut, Florian wrinkled his brow.
"What time is it?" he asked wearily, glancing towards Antoine.
He sighed and looked at his watch, "Almost seven."
Florian looked back out to the street. He was not really looking at the street, of course - the view was clouded with a thick morning fog and he could hardly see the cars and people below on the pavement - but it offered a reason not to look at Antoine.
"Really, Florian," Antoine muttered, recognizing his friend's reclusive and gloomy attitude, "We must leave soon," he withdrew to his room but returned, carpetbag in hand.
Antoine laid the bag on the bed and opened it. He stood back, motioning towards it cautiously.
"We agreed it was for the best, remember?" he asked gently, "For Josie?"
With a harsh sigh, Florian stood and moved around the room, retrieving clothes from the chest of drawers and half-heartedly stuffing them into the bag.
A knock came at the door.
Florian made no attempt to stop his hurried packing, even after the second knock, so Antoine went and answered it.
"Yes, what is it?" he asked, recognizing the landlady as she gave him a flat smile.
"Pardon me, sir, but there's a gentleman who wishes to speak with you and your friend," she stated politely.
Antoine shook his head, "That is not possible. We know no one in this country."
He began to close the door, but she continued.
"Please, sir, he is in quite a state," she explained anxiously, "He said his name was Grove. Roger Grove."
Florian stopped in his tracks and lifted his head to exchange a confused glance with Antoine. Without a word, he dropped what clothing he held and walked to the door.
"Where is he?" he asked impatiently, moving passed Antoine and following the landlady to the top of the stairs.
"I showed him to the front waiting room," she said and stepped aside as Antoine hurried down after Florian.
Florian practically glided down the stairs, with Antoine right on his heels.
"Florian, wait," he begged, grabbing his friend's arm when they reached the first landing, "What is going on? Did you ask him to come?"
Florian shook his head and pulled his arm away, "I am as mystified as you."
They continued to the ground floor, passed the front desk, and turned into small waiting room off the lobby. It was a dull room, with an empty china cupboard in the corner and a scattering of mismatched end tables and chairs. It was clear of people, save one man.
Mr. Grove sat along the far wall, anxiously watching the door. He stood to his feet the moment Florian and Antoine entered.
"Forgive me," he began instantly, speaking directly to Florian, "I know this seems rather strange considering our last encounter, but I had to meet with you."
"Are you well?" Florian asked, taking in Mr. Grove's appearance.
The man looked terribly distressed; his hair was a tousled mess and the dark circles under his eyes gave away his fatigue.
Mr. Grove chuckled and looked down at his attire, "Oh, yes, I am fine. I've been all over London since about three this morning," he rambled on, exhaustion in his voice, "Really, there are an incredible amount of hotels in this city! I know that is not really a surprise, but you wouldn't imagine the trouble I've had trying to find you. But, other than a lack of sleep, I am well."
"I see," Florian nodded, still incredibly confused,"But I do not understand. Why spend so much time trying to find me? You made it very clear that you wanted me gone - "
"I was wrong," Mr. Grove stated firmly, "I have been wrong about so many things, but this takes the cake."
"Mr. Grove," Antoine stepped forward between them, "I thought we had settled this."
"Yes, well," Mr. Grove mumbled in defiance and slide a hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out a collection of letters, "I've changed my mind."
He extended his handful of letters to Florian, who stared uneasily at the bundle.
"What are they?" Florian asked.
Mr. Grove shrugged, "I'm not sure. But I know they belonged to you before."
Florian slowly accepted the letters in silence, turning over the pile in his hand and reading the addresses. He blinked as he tracked a finger over the handwriting. Some were in his own hand, both others were different. He did not know how, but he recognized the flowing, feminine script instantly.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked quietly.
"Just read them, all of them," Mr. Grove commanded gently, motioning for him to take a seat, "They may help you remember."
Florian shook his head and looked to Mr. Grove, "I do not think they will," he sat down, disheartened, "If I could not remember anything even after seeing Josie, and holding her, how could a few letters change anything?"
"Just try," Mr. Grove begged, pulling up a chair to sit opposite.
Florian looked down. He wanted to read, to remember. Three days ago he would not have hesitated. But now...
"I cannot," he whispered, handing the letters back to Mr. Grove.
Mr. Grove's eyes widened, "What? Why - "
"Because I would never want to hurt her," Florian interrupted, standing and walking away in frustration, "I do not know what I would do if I suddenly remembered. I may cause a scene and upset her. And like you said, she has a happy life now. It would be selfish - "
"Good God, man!" Mr. Grove shouted abruptly and stood to his feet, "Just read the damn letters!"
Florian turned, confused and startled by Mr. Grove's outburst.
"This is not about you being selfish, it's about me trying not to be," Mr. Grove went on, frantically moving towards Florian, "I have tried to tell myself that this was right, that you and Josie should remain separated. But I can't do it anymore," he put a hand on Florian's shoulder, "I cannot stand by and watch her suffer over your death while I know you are living. My conscious will no longer allow me to be silent."
"But your engagement..." Florian broke in, "You said I would ruin everything - that she deserved to happy without me. I thought you loved her. "
"Of course I love her!" Mr. Grove stated loudly but continued as though his heart were breaking, "I love her with everything I am. And I know she and I could be happy together for the rest of our lives, but…" he hung his head and took a deep breath, "She deserves to know that she can still choose another path," he looked up at Florian wearily, "That other path is with you, Mr. Dupont. If you would only work for it."
Florian watched in silence as Mr. Grove moved to the other side of the room. He reached beside the chair he had occupied before and lifted up a black instrument case. A violin case.
Florian's heart stopped. A solid minute passed before he could speak.
"Is that yours?" he asked, though his voice was weak.
Mr. Grove shook his head.
Florian swallowed hard and blinked, "Whose is it?"
"I was hoping you could tell me, Mr. Dupont."
Mr. Grove held out the case to him, but Florian's mind went blank. He could not think clearly. Everything was in muddled disarray - his thoughts, his emotions.
He lifted his hand and gripped the handle of the violin case carefully. It felt familiar. Too familiar. He did not even have to think before he found himself setting it on a side table and unfastening the latches.
He blinked as he slowly began to lift the lid. The motion felt so natural. But of course it did. He was a violinist, after all. But something about this case, this violin, it was different.
The lid had just barely opened before Florian's eyes rested on the instrument itself. It was beautiful.
He felt a deep tenderness in his chest as he gently ran a hand over the achingly familiar wooden edges and tight strings. His mind was a fog, but a clear moment - several clear moments - crept from a hidden place in his heart.
"This is mine," he whispered as his eyes watered and his heart leapt, "Josie gave this to me when I first arrived."
"Yes, my god, that's right," Mr. Grove's voice rang from somewhere beside him, but Florian could not focus on anything besides his own thoughts.
"And I...I did not want to take it, but she made me," a smile creeping on his face, "She said I could think of home when I played it."
Florian looked up to see Mr. Grove watching him with a crestfallen yet encouraging look in his eye.
"Why don't you play it now?" Mr. Grove suggested though his world would surely be ruined.
Yay! Florian is beginning to remember! But could it have unintended consequences? And what will Josie say when she discovers the truth?
Stay tuned!
And please leave a comment or two! I love you all dearly!