September 2017

22 September 2017. Oooooo panic panic!!!!The play is tonight. I hope everything will be perfect! Well, the Head thinks it’s wonderful. She told Christo and me we were miracle-workers! But it is mostly Christo who made the miracle happen. Me – I just sorted the boring stuff like the costumes and the scenery.

Hey, by tomorrow it will all be over. I hope I’ll be writing here that it was a great success!

I finished writing in my diary and slipped it back in its hiding place: the bottom desk drawer behind a pile of old National Geographic magazines.

Jonas came home from work – with a bunch of roses for me.

“That’s for good luck, my love. I hope your play will go well.”

“Are you coming to watch? Please tell me you’ll be there!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Harmony. You know I’m your most loyal fan!”

He hugged me then, held me close for a long moment. And when I looked up into his eyes, all I could see was love and kindness. No sarcasm, no suspicion. This was the guy I had fallen in love with back when I was ten years old! We were meant to be together – through the hard times as well as the easy times.

And somehow, somehow we would make this all work out: we would turn ourselves from a couple into a family. Somehow!

“Well, I’m your most loyal fan too,” I told him. “Never forget that!”

* * * * *

Five minutes to seven; five minutes to lift-off!

Backstage at the Community Hall, in the wings, I stood beside Christo. The curtains were about to open. Our children were all in position on stage, all in their bright costumes, looking excited and nervous and terrified all at once. I could feel Christo shaking beside me.

“It’s going to be fine,” I whispered. “Don’t stress! It’s going to be wonderful. The audience will love it!”

The dark auditorium was packed: with parents and past pupils and well-wishers. And a few VIPs. And Jonas, of course. I made sure he had a seat in the front row.

Christo took my hand in his, held it against his heart for a moment so I could feel how fast it was beating.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Harmony,” he whispered back. And then the curtains opened. And the children burst into song and movement.

When finally, finally, the play ended and the curtains closed, our audience went wild.

“Encore!” they yelled. Clapping, stamping their feet, ululating.

Beside me, Christo’s eyes were shining. “We did it, Harmony! You and me together. This was our baby and we made it happen!”

He hugged me then, hugged me and held me tight. And I hugged him back, long and hard, swept up in the excitement and joy of that moment.

The children were rushing off the stage now, high as brightly-coloured kites from their success. And that’s when I noticed: Jonas was back stage too. In the shadows, so that I couldn’t see his face. How long had he been standing there?

He came forward now and shook Christo’s hand, congratulated him. Kissed me lightly on the cheek and congratulated me. But his voice, his movements, seemed robotic. Like he was on auto-pilot.

And next morning, when I opened my bottom desk drawer so I could write about our play’s great success, my diary was gone.


Tell us: Where is Harmony’s diary?