London Harmony: Water Gypsy by Erik Schubach Read Free Book Online

git was silent when Mrs. Thatcher said softly through the wall, “Sing me a song Tabitha dear? It always lulls me to sleep.” I smiled, the woman reminded me so much of my own grandmother. I can still remember her smile every time we went to visit on holiday before she passed. I said gently, “Ok.”
    I chose a cover of a throwback hit of the emotional Brown Eyes, by Mandy Fay Harris. I've always loved the emotion that woman threw into her music. That mysterious J8 reminds me so much of her, and her voice is spookily similar to the rock legend. Oh! Speaking of, it's the second Friday of the month! J8 has released a single every other week for months now. She hasn't released an album yet. I queued up the new single, Thursday Nights, to download from iTunes.
    Then I started singing for Mrs. T while I closed my eyes and let the music flow through me. It was a haunting melody, it always left me with a calm melancholy when I was done. I let the words carry me along in their wake as I sang softly. There was something about this song that just felt like hope and love and an odd sense of healing maybe? I was never quite sure.
    I finished and took in the silence from Mrs. Thatcher's room and smiled. Then Wendell said quietly without his usual snark through the wall, “Good night Tabitha,” Mr. Illes added from his room softly, “The voice of an angel my tiny virag.” Then from below, I heard, “Good night Tabitha.”
    I smiled warmly, this was my own little surrogate family here. I said, “Good night everyone.” Then I snuggled deeper under my covers to fight the chill air as I drifted off to sleep.
    ***
    Paya rang after the generators shut down for the morning. I answered with my customary, “Hiya Paya!”
    She groaned then said, “Hey girl, you catch the new J8? I am so going to be first in line for concert tickets when that woman tours. She's brill!”
    I chuckled, she was such a fan-girl... yeah fine whatever, so was I, shut your piehole. I replied, grinning to myself, “I queued it last night, haven't had a chance to listen.”
    She chuckled at me. “How am I supposed to squeal properly with you when you're behind the times. Listen to it and ring back.” Then she added, “What did you have for breakfast?”
    I rolled my eyes. “I need to hit the grocery today. My cooler is barren.” Then I added, “Mum.”
    She brushed that off with “If I were your mum, I'd feel a failure if I didn't make sure you ate properly. But you'd have the hottest mum at the school outings. It wouldn't be fair to the other children having dowdy mums.”
    I shook my head, my grin threatening to split my face. “You are so full of yourself missy. I'll eat something this morning after I hit the grocery.”
    She chastised, “You better, now promise me. Just say yes ma'am.”
    I rocked my head side to side and made a goofy look at the mobile and said, “Yes, ma'am. I promise.”
    I could hear the satisfied grin in her voice as she said, “There's a good girl. Now listen to the song so I can go on about it without you looking like a bloody muppet, then ring back.”
    I chuckled as she rung off. Then I sighed and attached my headphones to my mobile and started the new track, Thursday Nights. There was always something about J8 songs, every word had double meanings and every emotion had two directions. Like there were a song inside a song, like a secret between two souls. There was the song she shared with the world, and the one that was something private, a whispered promise to another heart.
    I caught the beat and couldn't help swaying with the melody as the woman sang. I wanted to be outside where I could close my eyes and dance to the hypnotic rhythm. The words cut into me, painting a picture of an old black and white movie, of laying under the stars watching a story unfold in front of you and the one who holds your heart. The wonder in the eyes of two souls as they are swept into the story. The excitement of, not knowing what would