Disclaimer: Don't own them!

The audience rose as one and, as the pianist rose to take her bows, her eyes glistened with tears. Although the concert had been going for more than three hours the audience appeared to be in no hurry to leave. Cries for an encore rose from various parts of the room, to be swiftly taken up by more and more people until, nodding her head in acquiescence, the musician again took her place and notes rippled through the room.

Kerri sat upright in bed, her chest heaving with sobs. The blackness which stared back at her was a continual and tortuous reminder of the horrific accident in which she had lost her precious sight. A hand came out of nowhere and began to release her hand own from its tight grip on the bed-sheets.

"It’s okay, Kerri. You’re alright now."

The girl clung to the arm as one might the mast of a sinking ship and, her face wet with tears, gasped as she fought to regain her breath. The nurse, murmuring softly, helped the girl to lie down and smoothed the blankets.

"Would you like the radio on?"

"What time is it?"

The seemingly irrelevant question brought a smile to the face of the nurse, although it went unseen by the patient.

"About a quarter to seven. That concert should be starting in about five minutes. Shall I turn it on for you?" A nod of the now listless head was the only answer but the understanding nurse switched on the radio and, almost immediately, the room was filled with the sweeping sounds of the classical music which the girl loved.

******

Miss Parker, her frustration about the turns her personal life and that of her family were taking, was in no mood for Jarod’s toys and her response to his latest present was to fling it across the room. As Broots entered the black satin hit him in the face and then slipped through his fingers and fell to the floor.

"An eye mask? Who sent this?"

"Who do think? Jarod, of course!"

"What do you think it means?"

"How the hell should I know? Do I look like a mind-reader?"

As Broots continued to turn the mask and study it, Miss Parker’s frustration turned finally to anger and she exploded.

"Did you want anything in particular Broots? If not then get out!"

"Well, actually, there was a sighting..."

"Put a sweeper team on it!"

"But..."

"Now!"

Broots shuffled back through the doorway, muttering apologies and explanations under his breath, all of which were too soft for Miss Parker to hear and merely added to her frustration.

******

Kerri felt to way to the front door and, after several frustrating attempts to locate the correct key, let herself in. After bumping painfully into the corner of the hall table she was finally able to remove her jacket and found a vacant peg on which to hang it. She shuffled down the hallway, trying to recall the exact position of her furniture, in order to avoid any more painful collisions. Reaching the living area, she sat down on the couch, having first checked to see that her cat, Peter, wasn’t in the way. With a sigh she leant momentarily back against the cushions before reaching forward to find the tape which her friend, Elli, had supposedly left on the table.

A careless sweep of her hand sent the cassette crashing to the floor and, cursing under her breath, Kerri bent to pick it up. In frustration she felt her fingertips send it progressively further away and, with her head under the table, she let herself yell out loud, just once. As the sound echoed in her ears, a knock at the front door made her sharply raise her head and the crack of bone against wood made the visitor wince and then smile slightly and sadly as he heard the voice’s owner curse again. The smile, however, disappeared from his face as he watched, through the half-open door, the faltering figure move down the hall. He pushed the small red notebook through which he had been looking deeper into his pocket and cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, Miss Stevenson. My name is Jarod Rorschach. I’m your occupational therapist. The hospital gave me your address. I was meaning to come and visit you before you were discharged but time got away from me."

Kerri frowned slightly as she moved slowly forward. "I’m not sure that I remember anyone at the hospital saying anything about an occupational therapist."

"It’s standard procedure. They may well have mentioned it and you forgot. I dare say you had a lot on your mind. We like to make sure that you can manage on your own, give you things to help you along, that sort of thing."

There was a pause which Jarod did not want to break before Kerri spoke again. "I’m sorry, where are my manners? Would you like to come in?"

"Thank-you." Jarod stepped over the threshold and watched as Kerri, unsure about his exact location, tried to shuffle out of the way and almost fell over the small table. He reached out and grabbed her elbow, preventing her from completely falling over.

******

Miss Parker’s absorption in her mother’s picture was disturbed by a squeaking of wheels entering her office and she was not surprised, when she looked up, to see Mr Raines in the doorway.

"Any sign?" The deep voice echoed through the room.

"Of course not. You would know. Is there anything going on in this place - except for the reason that we’re all here, of course - that you actually miss?"

"Watch it. We’re all expendable, you know. After all, what’s one person to a corporation as big and powerful as the Centre?"

"Is that a threat Raines - or a prediction?"

"A threat - no. Just think of it as....an incentive."

******

Jarod guided Kerri into the living room and, steering her around the furniture, led her back to the chair she had been using. Having sat her down, Jarod bent and picked up the cassette, placing it in her hand.

"Frustrating isn’t it, to drop something and not be able to pick it up?"

"There’s got to be an easier way!"

"Oh yes, there is. Let me show you."

Jarod took the cassette out of her hand again and then laid it on the floor. He then encouraged her to kneel down on the floor and showed her the best way to find it.

"The thing you should do is avoid using the flat of your hand, sweeping along the floor, because that will only knock it further out of your reach. Instead act as though you’re mopping up a spilt drink, only move your hand around as you dab. Eventually you’ll touch it and then bring your hand slowly down until you can feel it’s outline with your fingers and palm. Then you can grasp it firmly. Yes, just like that. Good. Well done."

Kerri looked up, her face slightly flushed and with a smile on her lips and the cassette in her hand.

"How about getting around? I mean not just within the house but outside as well, in restaurants and places like that."

"For walking around you have several options. Some people like the use of a stick to prevent them from walking into someone. Others use a guide dog. It’s really up to you."

"And with other people?"

"For them to help you, do you mean? Unfortunately people are going to think that the best way is for them to forcibly propel you forward and you’re going to end up pretty bruised when they do. The best way is to take them by the elbow - yes, I know it sounds funny - but like this. They can either bend their elbow to about ninety degrees or keep it straight. A grip like this makes it easy for you to know where they’re going and they’re not likely to walk you into things. If you teach your friends and the people that you’re going to rely on most to do this, then you’ll find life a lot easier."

Kerri’s face had clouded at the idea of having to rely on others and she continued to look despondent as Peter entered the room. The cat rubbed itself against her legs and then went over to where Jarod was offering his hand for the small tabby to sniff. In no time the cat was curled up on his lap and purring while he continued to talk.

"I know that there are quite a few adjustments for you to make to your life, the least of which will, of course, be your music."

At the word Kerri looked away and suppressed the urge to cry. He voice was hard and full of resentment. "I suppose I’ll have plenty to adjust to without that."

"But it would be such a shame to give up a wonderful gift like yours."

"You’ve heard me play?" The interest in her voice was unmistakable.

"Several times. I like good music too and yours is some of the best I’ve ever heard. You shouldn’t throw something like that away."

Kerri’s sightless eyes turned automatically to her hands and, the interest gone from her voice and face, she sadly shook her head. "What’s the use? I can’t do it anyway. So why bother?"

Jarod stood, came over and sat next to her. She turned around slightly until he could see her face and it seemed that one of the worst things he had seen was the tears brimming in eyes which saw nothing but dark.

"You shouldn’t let a tragedy like that happen. There are ways, you know."

"How?" Despite herself, interest crept back into Kerri’s face and she looked at him with eagerness.

"Have you heard of the Suzuki method?"

"Of course. It’s how child geniuses succeed when they can’t read a note." Her voice was scornful and full of bitterness.

"But for you it’s a way to actually keep learning new music, wouldn’t you say? I mean you could borrow cd’s from your local library and learn from them. There are plenty of people who could teach you the technique and you wouldn’t need to give up. When I saw you there wasn’t a sheet of music in sight but you played as though there was. Why should there be a difference?"

Kerri’s eyes were more eager but there was still a slight reservation. "Can I be as good as I was?"

"Why not? I mean Beethoven was deaf and he was one of the most brilliant composers of all time. Why shouldn’t you succeed, just because you can’t see the keys? You can hear the notes and play the keyboard. So why not?"

Part 2