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I was sad, not because she shouted at me, but because I knew it was Tony Gardner's record, and I knew how important that record was to her. I also knew that from then on, whenever Gardner softly sang those American songs, the record would make a crackling sound.
I said I didn't want to bother him, but there was a gentle insistence in Mr. Gardner's tone. "No, no, sit down. You just said your mother liked my records."
For those few seconds, they seemed to have forgotten not only me at the same table, but everyone in the square.
Mr. Gardner began to sing, very softly, as if he only remembered part of the lyrics. But his voice still echoed clearly across the quiet canal. And it was truly beautiful. For a moment, I felt as if I had returned to my childhood, to that apartment.
You need to know your audience a bit, in some way. Something that makes you feel tonight's audience is different from last night's.
His voice would drop to almost a whisper, as if talking to himself. And when the streetlights or the lights from windows along the way shone on the boat, he would suddenly remember me, raise his voice, and ask something like "Do you understand what I mean, friend?"
It wasn't fully dark yet, but the stars were already out. Beyond the wall at the end of the rooftop, I could see windows for miles and furniture in neighbors' rooms just yards away. Many windows were lit; squinting, the distant windows looked like extensions of the stars.
When it was noisy downstairs, I would open the bay window in my room, sit on the wide windowsill facing the rolling hills for miles, and play the guitar. When I first arrived, there were several clear mornings in a row, and it felt wonderful, the view stretching endlessly. I strummed the strings casually, and the music seemed to reach across all of England.
For whatever reason, my feeling about this place was no longer the claustrophobic and frightening impression from childhood, but rather something warm, even nostalgic.
Moreover, what that woman had just said about his old teacher touched a tender chord deep in his heart—thoughts he had been afraid to face.