Presenting ones self to an audience of thousands after playing the solo of a lifetime, did not compare with the excitement I felt when I received the ultimate gift from my father. However my excitement soon turned against me; my father was dead. His parting gift to me was an old violin that his Grandfather had made from cedar. In the hands of a professional the violin made an exceptional sound. My father would send me many gifts after each concert I performed at, but my mother would always remind me that the gifts came from dirty money; whatever my mother thought of him he was still my father. When I turned twenty-one my mother had a massive heart attack and was dead before she reached the hospital. With my father being my only living relative I decided to get back in touch with him; but I saw him briefly. I wish I had spent more time with him and maybe I could have got to know him better. I picked up the violin, took a deep breath and slowly ran the bow across the strings. I felt my lip tremble and I could no longer hold back the tears. I then slumped into the chair and watched as my mascara ran down my cheek. This day was meant to be the happiest day of my life and yet I sat there feeling no excitement at all. I collected my things together and decided to head home. What point was there in sitting in my dressing room, feeling sorry for myself? With both of my parents now dead, with no living relatives and too much money in my bank, I felt as if I should get away from it all. Away from everything and start something new.
As I reached the front door of my apartment, a voice called out from behind me, “Matilda?”
I turned around to find my father’s associate, Jack Edwards, standing at the bottom of the steps with his hands stuffed into his pockets. “Jack...” I was not sure what to say to him; I was not sure if he even knew that my father was dead. Jack had been working with my father for the past twenty years or so. I saw him a couple times when I visited my father at his home in Manchester. I knew little about him and would rather not know him. My father never spoke kind words of him.
“Is there something you want?”
“Have you spoken to your father recently?”
“I have not...” I found it hard to hold back the tears once again, “...now you must excuse me, I have things to do!”
“If you do speak to him, tell him I called”
“Of course”
Before he turned to walk away his eyes lowered, “You bought a new violin?”
“A gift, from an admirer”
A large grin appeared on his face; he turned and began walking swiftly down the street. As I entered my apartment, I shut the door quickly and fell back against it. I slowly dropped to the floor, pulled in my knees and cried.
After being on the floor for almost half an hour, I stood up and looked in the hallway mirror. I was a mess. I placed my violin in the cupboard and took my father’s violin into the bedroom. I had no clue of what I should be doing. I had not eaten in five hours and did not feel like it. I decided to have shower, see if I could wash away the pain. Feeling the water pass over me, made me feel relaxed. In a short moment of relief, it felt like everything from the day did not happen; however, reality soon brought me crashing back to earth as someone was in my apartment. I climbed out of the shower, placed a towel around my body and slowly walked into my bedroom. I could have sworn I heard a voice; but nothing. I sighed, feeling stupid for panicking. It’s just me being pathetic, because I’m all alone. As I walked through the door I heard a voice call out.
“He said she had the violin!”
I’m not pathetic. Oh, fuck! Where’s my bloody mobile?
“Check the bedroom?”
No, don’t check the bedroom; shit!
“It’s here!”
“Like hell it is”
I grabbed the crystal vase off my chest of drawers and smashed it into the guys head. He fell backwards and a pistol slid forwards across the wooden floor. I grabbed the gun and held it straight out in front of me. Arms slightly relaxed, not to feel the force jolt me if I had to shoot someone. Another guy entered the room and I moved the gun in his direction; he raised his hands and tilted his head. The guy on the floor stood up, I moved the gun back onto him and this is when I felt my towel drop. Shit! Despite the fact I was now naked, I did not move an inch.
“You appear to have lost something”
“Yes, my virginity, six years ago”
The first guy was looking up and down, and smirking.
“If I catch you smirking one more time I’ll put a bullet in your brain”
At this point I lowered the gun,
“Fuck you!”
The guy with his hands still in the air laughed, “We just want the violin!”
“What?”
“The violin on the bed, it belongs to the boss”
“I think not, that belongs to me, it was a gift”
“We just want the fucking violin”
“Would you like a fucking bullet instead?”
“You have a filthy mouth for such posh lady”
“Do I care? No, now get out of my house”
“You haven’t a clue what you’re dealing with; did your father teach you how to hold a gun?”
I had a mini flash back of when father took me to Yorkshire; to a gun club. I was surprised that he would want me to learn how to handle a weapon, after years of telling me that his career choice wrecked his marriage. He wanted me to be able to protect myself if anything ever happened to him. I remember him telling me that the way you hold a violin, is much like the way you hold a rifle; that surprised me. He placed a rifle into my hands,
“Imagine you are holding a violin”
“Seriously?”
He nodded and raised his eyebrows,
“Seriously! But place the end of the rifle into your right shoulder. Run your left hand down the shaft of the gun, till it feels comfortable. Do not stretch out your arm, or you will feel too stiff”
“I feel stupid”
“You look stupid!”
I laughed and he smiled.
“Now, your right hand controls the sound the violin makes, same principle; place your hand onto the trigger. Good!”
“It’s strange; it feels comfortable, just like my violin!”
He smiled and pointed at the target straight ahead, “Okay, do you think you can hit that?”
“Are you serious?”
He nodded and stayed silent. I lifted up the rifle, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, held it, opened my eyes, released the breath and squeezed the trigger.
“I’m impressed!”
The tone of his voice sounded somewhat pleasing. I had hit the target on the second circle from the middle. It felt almost, good. One of the guys snapped his fingers, “So did daddy teach what happens when you fire a gun?”
“Yes, a tiny piece of metal flies out the end, penetrates your body, giving you seconds to live”
“Not really. You sarcastic bitch!”
I felt a sharp blow to the back of my head, which sent me crashing to the floor. My vision was blurred and I could only hear muffled sounds.
I began to gently wake up and instead of being sprawled out on the floor, I was propped up against the wall with a blanket over me. Looking across the floor at all the broken glass, my eyes came across two feet. I was greeted with the smile of a handsome young gentleman with dark brown hair and amazingly dark eyes.
“Morning Miss Franklin”
My eyes slowly sunk back down, followed by my head. After having my house broken into and being smashed over the head with one of my many beautiful vases, I was reluctant to utter a word.
“I said morning Miss Franklin? Did you lose your hearing in the night?”
“Night?”
“Ah, she is not deaf after all and yes night. It is seven am and did you know your door was wide open, you could have been robbed”
At this point it was a tongue-in-cheek moment and I immediately stood up.
“Do watch the glass Miss Franklin; you do not want to hurt yourself”
“Quit calling me Miss Franklin, my name is... well you most likely already know that to. Now who are? A cop, another hitman or someone I rejected in a bar?”
“Please get dressed Matilda; you’re turning me on...”
Sarcastic arsehole! I grabbed a few things from my draw and headed towards the bathroom. There was certain nobility about him, which I actually admired and it was evident that if I wanted to know more, I would have to get dressed; as I was practically naked.
“...And I’m just a friend”
“I do not need any more friends”
“I didn’t say I was yours. Now get dressed. Please”
As I began to shut the door, I felt myself staring at him and caught him smirking. It was a long time since anyone had taken my fancy. I began to wonder what the hell had been going on. I had an amazing night playing one violin and then moments later overwhelmed by another; without my father’s violin, I felt that my heart had been ripped out. It was the only thing I had left of his and was not about to let it go that easy. As I was getting dressed I kept flashing back to how it felt to hold a gun in my hands; I had a power. I could still feel the adrenalin rushing around my body, wanting me to take another gun between my hands. I looked into the mirror and pictured myself holding my father’s violin. Slowly sweeping across and then down with the bow... my father was right, a rifle is just like holding a violin. With the way I felt, I am glad my mother was dead, as she would surely not have approved of the things I was considering. I wrapped up my hair as there seemed no time to pretty myself up and opened the door.
“So are you going to tell me who you are?”
“Seeing that you are now appropriate, of course. Abott, though my first is Dillon, but it’s pointless just call me Abott. I’m working freelance with an agency and your father was helping me out”
“So it is Dillon? And you are a detective?”
His eyes rolled.
“Kind of...”
“Kind of?”
“I said I work freelance”
“Well whatever you were doing with my father, I would rather not know, as it is not my business. My business is that I want that violin back and no one is going to stop me!”
“Matilda wait, you don’t know what you’re dealing with, these men mean business and whatever your father did, that violin was payment”
“I really do not care, what have I to lose?”
“Your life!”
“What life?”
“Please see sense Matilda, this is not a game!”
His voice became louder as he grabbed my arm.
“You will let go of me¸ why should I listen to you, I have known you all of five minutes?”
He pulled some documents out of his jacket pocket and pushed them into my hands.
“We have been keeping an eye on Jack Edwards for many years, but had no real evidence to put him away. Every time we got close, something would jeopardise our operation...”
“I do not understand, Jack is a middle man, he is an errand boy...”
Dillon’s voice softened, “No, he’s the one calling all the shots!”
I felt a tear run down my cheek and then Dillon’s hand brushed it away with his finger. He had a gentle touch. I looked up into his eyes and could have kissed him straight away, but he backed off.
“You can’t go near this man, he’ll kill you!”
“Like I said I have nothing to lose”
“And how exactly are you going to get back your violin?”
“Dillon, I may look and act like a spoilt little rich girl, but when you live your life around corruption and lies, you become quite resourceful!”
I walked towards the door, picking up my coat and bag along the way and Dillon did nothing to stop me. Before I disappeared from his sight, we both gazed in each other direction; I could feel sadness is his eyes and revenge in my own.
A couple of months ago my father mentioned that he would be moving into the city, as the company had bought a new building on the far side of the park. At seven in the morning this park was tramp central. Every one of them sifting through the bins looking for breakfast; I wanted to be sick. The park opened up into a clearing and most of the buildings were viewable, especially the new one my father mentioned. It must have been the right one as it had a large billboard across the front, ‘Open For Business In The Summer’. Yeah, just what were they selling? There was a brakes brothers van outside the front of the building, which intrigued me more. I knew that brakes brothers sold food, so I wondered what kind of buffet would they be serving up. The entrance appeared to be open, so I let myself in. I was soon greeted by the receptionist.
“Good morning, can I help you?”
Oh crap, well why would I think it would be easy to walk straight in. “Possibly, I am looking for Mr Edwards?”
“And you are?”
“An old friend”
“Everyone is always an old friend, how about a name”
Bitch! The tone in her voice told me she was not just some stupid receptionist.
“Okay, Matilda Franklin!”
She lifted her head, smirked and held out her hand, “Please follow me Miss Franklin”
The fact that she smirked at the mention of my name, made me think this might have been a bad idea. She led me towards an elevator, “Press fifteen, it will take you to the top floor and...”
Just before the doors shut she grinned, “...good luck!”
That was something I really did not want to hear. Good luck? Why the hell would she wish me good luck? I watched as each number lit up as the elevator passed the floor. I began to panic thinking I should have listened to Dillon after all. I even tried pressing other floors, but nothing happen and then the doors opened at fifteen. I walked out in the large room and then froze as I heard my name, “Matilda?” I turned in the direction of the voice and Jack was sat down behind a large desk, “What are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you!”
“How did you know I was here?”
Crap! “My father mentioned the company had bought a building here and I needed to see you”
“Okay and what do you want?”
What am I doing? “To apologise for last night, I was rude!”
“It’s fine”
He did not seem to believe me.
“I must go, I’m sorry”
As I turned around one of the guys that was in my apartment walked out of the elevator. Oh shit! I walked straight passed him towards the elevator but the doors shut and the elevator went down.
“Matilda, you sure you’re okay? It’s just rather strange for you to ever apologise to me and you’re always rude!”
I started breathing heavy as I felt the adrenaline rush around my body. “You’re right, I am not okay and I want my violin back!”
“What violin?”
“The one you stole from me, my father’s violin!”
“Anything your father has belongs to the company, he knows that. Kick her out”
The guy grabbed hold of my arm and when the doors opened, threw me inside. The doors shut and as he leaned forward to press the button, I noticed a gun in the back of his pants. I was not going to leave here till I had my violin. He kept turning his head and looking me up and down; and smirking. He was really pissing me off.
“Did you not get enough last night?”
He never said anything and just kept smiling. The doors opened and he walked forward. It was now or never. I grabbed the gun from the back of his jeans and kicked him out of the elevator. I thought the doors would shut automatically, but they stayed open. He looked up towards me, “What the fuck? It would have been better for you to do nothing sweetheart and the safety is on”
I lowered the gun and shot him in the leg, “No, it’s not” I pressed a random number and the doors shut. I was feeling all kind of weird and it felt good. I placed the gun in the back of my pants and thought quickly. I looked up and thought it would better if I was not in the elevator when it opened.
While I was on my hands and knees, tunnelling through ventilation shafts, something hit me and hit me hard. It was something Jack said. He talked about my father in the present rather than the past; I was now a little confused. If my father was alive, why would he want me to believe he was dead? Nothing was making sense. I found an opening and climbed down in to what looked like an unfinished room. They were still painting the walls and there was equipment everywhere; equipment I could quite possibly use. As I began to rummage through everything that I could use, I removed a cover sheet and found a large supply of paraffin; this intrigued me. The elevator door opened behind me and I peered over my shoulder; no one. Thinking quickly, I grabbed to tins of the paraffin and took them over to the elevator. After that I began to move around more stuff, putting them into a pile of things I could use and I came across nail gun. This was like an adventure playground for the insane. The elevator doors shut and began to go down; this was it. However, I did feel rather stupid for coming here, I should have just left and gone to the police; but on the other hand, they most likely owned the police. There was no point dwelling on the ‘what if’ situation, I just had to deal with the not dying situation. Where’s my bag? Ah... Time for a cigarette to calm the nerves! The elevator opened again and this time I heard numerous voices. I took another puff of the cigarette, stared at the end while it slowly burnt down and then flicked it across the room. Showtime! As the cigarette hit the floor, it ignited and a trail of fire headed straight towards the elevator. I heard some of them screaming. I peaked around the corner to see one of the men stood away from the flames. I leaned around the corner with the gun in my left hand and used the wall to steady my arm. I fired two shots into his chest. Shots were returned in my direction as I moved back behind the wall.
“Find that fucking bitch!”
That was Jack’s voice. The fire soon had a mind of its own and began spreading to the cover sheets and the plaster board.
“Jack we need to put this fire out before it destroys half the building”
“Don’t you think I know that, but the sprinklers aren’t working yet”
I looked around the corner again and counted how many of them there were; six. I needed to get rid of more to even have a chance at getting anywhere. The paraffin that was left, I covered over with a sheet and I had three shots left in the gun. Smoke was now running along the ceiling and the visibility was dense. So I carefully leaned around the corner, fired the remaining shots at the paraffin tins and on the last shot there was a loud explosion. The force took out most of the walls, shattered all the windows and pulled down most of the ceiling. I must have hit some sort of canister.
As I got off the floor, I had scrapped my entire arm and had something sticking in my side. I looked down to see what it was and it was a large shard of glass. Common sense was telling me not to pull it out, but instead I just yanked it out and blood came with it. I tore some cloth from the cover sheets and wrapped it tightly around my waist. I found the nail gun, held it out in front of me and slowly walked around the corner to find Jack standing with a gun to my father’s head, “Daddy?”
Jack smirked, “You seem a little shocked Matilda!”
“I thought you were dead?”
“That’s what you...”
Jack pushed the gun into my father’s head, “Shut it!”
I lifted the nail gun up higher, “You kill him and I’ll nail your fucking head to the wall”
“My, you surely are your father’s daughter. But as I don’t do well with people threatening me, say goodbye daddy”
“No...”
Jack fired two shots into my father’s head and bolted off down the corridor. I ran towards my father as quickly as I could, but it was too late and he was dead. Losing your father once was painful, but seeing him shot in front of you and losing him again, only made me feel the pain more. I leaned down and kissed my father on the cheek; at least I got to kiss him goodbye. The revenge was deeper than before and this time I didn’t care what would happen to me. I spied a shotgun lying on the floor, grabbed it and took off down the corridor after Jack. It was time to use this instrument much like I use my other instrument. At the end of the corridor there was only one room, so lifted the shotgun, planted it firmly into my shoulder, ran my arm down the shaft and took deep breaths. As I entered the door, Jack was sat behind a desk and Dillon was stood leaning on the front of the desk.
Dillon... “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Finishing up where I left off!”
“Finishing what?”
“Well I did try to stop you coming here and now we are just going to have to kill you, since, after all you have destroyed half the building. It’s gonna take forever to get back on track!”
“I don’t care; I stopped caring five minutes ago when he shot my father!”
Dillon moved in front of myself and Jack, “Look you’re not that person, you’re not us, and you know you’ll never fire that gun!”
Something happened were I no longer felt like listening and Dillon flew backwards across the desk. He was hiding the violin on the desk and it too fell and smashed onto the floor.
“Jesus Christ Matilda are you insane? Now there’s no violin, what you gonna do?”
“Well my father’s dead...”
I turned the gun on Jack and fired. I watched as he bled to death in front of me. After watching him die, I walked over to the violin and picked it up; maybe it could be repaired. As I lifted it something fell out. I placed the violin on the desk and crouched down. It was a small diamond violin, almost five centimetres in length. I stood there wondering what to do next. Maybe it was time to have a little vacation.
COMMENTARY: FRANKLIN’S VIOLIN
The idea for Franklin’s Violin came from my love of classical violin music. Two of my favourite violin artists are Vanessa Mae and Bond (which is a group of four female violinists). On Bond’s album Shine, there is a piece of music called Speed and after listening to this over and over, it created a Lara Croft type character in my head. As Lara Croft grew up with absent parents, I was influenced to create a character in a similar aspect. However I decided to tone down the character; almost like a pre Lara Croft. For the title I decided to keep it simple as the story is about a family violin, but on the other hand it is the legacy of how the violin turns a person into something they cannot predict. The reason in making the violin out of cedar, rather than it normally being made from several different types of wood, was to suggest that being professional with one instrument would automatically make the characters professional with the other; “In the hands of a professional the violin made an exceptional sound” In the hands of a professional a gun would just be an exceptional piece of equipment. The violin is the main focus of the story and I tried to keep Matilda fixated on this. I had to create an object in which she was passionate about in order for her to react. If I had made the object into a person, I feel that the story would have been a lot longer. With the object being a violin and both parties wanting it, it could not be damaged and as soon as it was out of Matilda’s sight it was mentioned briefly; her only main concern was to get it back.
Most often people write can’t, won’t, gonna and kinda instead of using proper English and with Matilda’s character I wanted to move away from this and write it correctly. The purpose of this was to hopefully present her as a posh or well spoken lady. It is only when she is confronted with situations that make her angry or mad that she begins to use slang and swears a lot. The story had been developed three times. The first draft appeared to make the story bigger that it actually was; it was bordering a novel rather than a short story. There were too many characters and the story moved around a lot. On the second draft the story was looking more like a short story as it was more contained within one place; however as the storyline was changed slightly it did not fully explain how Matilda learnt how that holding a violin was much like holding a gun. The story seemed too farfetched that she would magically acquire these skills without training. So in the third and final draft, I used a mini flashback to explain where she had learnt the skills to be able to hold and fire a weapon. This was also a great choice as it gave a small insight of her relationship with her father. Besides Matilda’s character there are two others: Jack Edwards and Dillon Abott. Both of these characters have changed over each draft. Jack original started as one of Matilda’s fathers’ oldest friends and then became more of a man her father despised. As for Dillon, my first thought was to place him as Matilda’s ally, but I thought that it would not make her appear as the strong character I wanted her to be; so I made him out to be two-faced character. I used Dillon as a kind of turning point for Matilda, as a way for her to decide if she should go up against Jack or stay away. I thought that it would be good to show a soft side of Matilda, as up until she had met Dillon, she was quite feisty. So I added a little love interest that would betray her later, as I have myself been a victim of being betrayed by someone who leads you on; and thought it would be a cruel device to use.
With the first draft I was explaining scenes in too much detail, so in my third draft I had left out large chunks the story, rather than explaining how the character got from A to B. This may look like the story jumps around a bit, but I feel that it makes the reader think about what is going on in Matilda’s head as she moves around. When Matilda gets into the building, steals a guard’s gun, shoots him and then ends up in another part of the building, I did want her to find an arsenal as that would have been too easy. Despite the story being about a woman who learns how to use a gun, because she plays violin professionally, I wanted her prove that she was resourceful as she told Dillon. In the scene where she finds different types of tools, I purposely left small bits of information as to set up a surprise scene for the readers when her opposition entered the room. A little shocker for myself was bringing her father back into the picture, which I had not planned to. I always watch films and never expect to see someone that is supposed to be dead come back to life and then get killed again; so I decided that I would write this in to my story and see if it worked. I feel it did, but the idea was to let the reader feel Matilda’s pain and want her to kill Jack. By the ending I wanted it to move fast, almost like the way adrenalin does around your body. When the violin breaks, she has nothing left to care about and kills Jack anyway. I was not going to destroy the violin, but I had a thought about the title and looked on the Franklin Mint website for a diamond violin. After finding one I thought it would be intriguing to what was Franklin’s Violin.
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