I used to work at a tiny music shop in the eastern suburbs, around ten years ago. I never in a million years imagined that that job and knowing who to contact about property conveyancing would somehow lead to me being given the most wondrous gift imaginable.
It all started with a little old man, Henry, who would come in to play the pianos but never ever buy anything. Most of the guys on my sales team thought he was a bit painful, always going on about how he used to play keys in a jazz quartet in his thirties, and that it was the time of his life. I loved listening to him and really enjoyed showing him our new stock when he’d come in to play the pianos.
There was a particular brand he liked, a German piano, Ronisch. He liked them because they were made of high quality spruce and they were assembled in the same country they were made. His favourite was a silkwood grand, kind of blond in colour. It had rich warm tones and a beautiful resonance that only older pianos seem to possess. He would play that piano for hours. One day, out of the blue, Henry bought that piano. It was my happiest moment as a sales person.
One day Henry arrived in store, waving a sheet of paper in front of my face. He was white as a sheet himself, and he fired a lot of questions about property conveyancing in Melbourne. As it turned out, he had paperwork from a house he’d decided to sell and no one to help him do it. Henry had no idea what it was all about. It was quiet, so I helped him figure it out and showed him the people to call for information about finding the vendors statement.
Two weeks later, I got a great job in an inner city company and decided to move on. That was the last time I saw Henry. Until recently, when I was contacted by my old manager. Henry had died, and they needed me to contact his lawyer. As it turns out, Henry had left the beautiful Ronisch grand to me.