Mrs. Visser shook her head. “It’s not for sale. It’s for playing. Sit.”
Lena nodded. “Net Vir Jou. Bobby van Jaarsveld. Piano solo.”
When the last chord faded, Mrs. Visser was wiping her glasses. sheet music bobby van jaarsveld net vir jou piano
“Jy soek iets spesiaals,” Mrs. Visser said. Not a question. A statement.
One rain-soaked Saturday, she found herself in an old music shop in Pretoria, a dusty place called Bladsy en Noot (Page and Note). The owner, a retired concert pianist named Mrs. Visser, watched Lena shuffle through piles of second-hand scores. It’s for playing
Lena played that note—a single A-flat above middle C—and held it. And for a moment, she swore she heard her grandfather hum along.
“Jy’t dit gevind,” she whispered.
Not for love, not for a lost ring, but for a single sheet of music: Bobby van Jaarsveld’s “Net Vir Jou” for piano. It was the song her late grandfather used to hum while fixing his old tractor on their farm outside Stellenbosch. He never played an instrument, but he knew every word, every swell of the chorus. “Net vir jou, Lena,” he’d whisper, tapping her nose. “Everything I do, net vir jou.”
