‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for arranging this. How on earth did you do it?’
‘I know the Warrenders quite well,’ he explained. ‘Anthea is a darling. And as for him—well, he’s immensely knowledgeable, of course.’
‘But not exactly a darling?’ she suggested shrewdly.
‘Hm—’ he smiled reflectively—‘disgruntled prima donnas have been known to describe him as a monster, I believe. But he has a sort of arrogant charm, if you like that sort of thing. I mentioned you to him some time ago, but he showed very little interest. Then, when I heard you again about a month ago, I told Warrender once more that he should hear you and, rather to my surprise, he asked whether Lewis Elsworth were the choirmaster down here and agreed that he and Anthea would make it their business to be in the district and hear you.’
‘Then they’re coming here this evening?’
‘They’re coming here this evening. Does it make you nervous to know about it beforehand?’
‘Not paralysingly nervous,’ said Amanda slowly. ‘Just on my mettle, you know. I’d rather know in advance, as a matter of fact. It will make me doubly careful and eager to do my best.’
‘Good girl!’ He patted her shoulder lightly. ‘You know, I was interested in you from the beginning. There’s something quite special about you—about your voice. Do you ever come up to London?’
‘Not very often. Sometimes, of course.’
‘Warrender is conducting at the Festival Hall next Monday. Will you come up and have dinner with me and I’ll take you on to the concert? Would you like that?’
‘I’d love it!’ exclaimed Amanda breathlessly. ‘I’ll have to see about last train times, though, because——’
‘No problem. I’ll drive you back and go on and spend the night at my sister’s. Have you ever heard Warrender conduct?’
Amanda shook her head, her eyes wide with gratitude and admiration for anyone who could pull such important strings with such casual skill.
‘Then you have quite an experience coming to you!’ He got up with that brilliant smile she remembered so well from their first meeting. ‘Anthea is singing too. The Letter Scene from Eugene Onegin and something else—I’m not quite sure what. I must go now. I expect you want to do a bit of last-minute revision. What are you singing, by the way? For I presume it’s not going to be all choral work.’
She held out the music to him without comment.
‘“Hear ye, Israel”? Good choice,’ he approved. ‘Give it a touch of drama. That appeals to Warrender. And after all, you are a celestial being addressing the Tribes of Israel on behalf of God. I’ll see you later.’ And, with a smile, he raised his hand in a gesture of farewell and went away out of the church.
One or two other members of the choir began to drift in now, and casual greetings were exchanged. Then presently Lewis Elsworth made his entrance and everyone, figuratively speaking, sprang to attention.
He glanced round, made no reference to the fact that this might prove to be a rather special evening and merely said, ‘Everyone feeling on top form?—Good. I want the very best out of you for once.’
‘When did he ever want anything less?’ murmured the soprano beside Amanda. And one of the cheekiest, and most angelic-looking, of the choirboys volunteered the information, ‘I think my voice is beginning to break, sir.’
‘Well, don’t let it do so until tomorrow morning,’ was the dry retort. And the practice session began.
It was not until halfway through that Amanda saw the church door open and three people come quietly in and sit down at the back. There was a certain amount of shadow where they were sitting, but she knew instantly that they were the Warrenders and Jerome Leydon.
Lewis Elsworth must have seen them too, she supposed. But he remained so completely calm and unmoved that she felt her own quivering nerves grow quieter. Then he said,
‘All right, the rest of you can take a breather. Amanda, we’ll try your solo, shall we?’
‘Yes, Dr Elsworth.’
She smiled back at him as though all she asked was to be an angel announcing God’s purpose. And indeed Jerome Leydon’s words came back to her with such force that she was suddenly able to visualise the scene and herself the centre of it.
‘Hear ye, Israel!’ she announced in tones of radiant authority, and a little tremor of response seemed to pass through everyone in the choir stalls. Whether the same effect reached to the back of the church she could not tell. She only knew that this was her moment, and if she had not actually got the Tribes of Israel in thrall, she was doing the best she could with the choir and, perhaps, the three important visitors at the back of the church.
When the last silvery note had floated up into the shadows of the roof, Amanda glanced across at Lewis Elsworth. For, in that moment, it was his reaction which suddenly seemed to be of most importance. This was just as well, for no one came rushing forward from the back of the church to exclaim, ‘That’s a voice in a thousand!’ or even, ‘Where have you been hiding in the last few years?’
Her teacher merely nodded to her and smiled, and she knew she had done well. Then, as she sat down again, one of the older tenors leaned forward and said, ‘Well done! That’s certainly your party piece, my girl. Never heard it better sung by an amateur.’
She smiled too then and felt satisfied.
The three visitors remained during the rest of the evening practice and only when the members of the choir were finally dispersing did they come forward. Even then they paused at intervals, as though to examine and admire various features of interest in the church. They were obviously, Amanda realised, waiting until most of the others should have gone and there would be a chance to speak to the choirmaster on his own.
She stood where she was, a little undecided what to do next. Then, as the group came abreast of her, Warrender simply said, ‘Very good. Go on working.’ And he went on to Lewis Elsworth, whom he immediately engaged in conversation.
Anthea paused a little longer and said warmly, ‘You sing very beautifully. And “Hear ye, Israel” is a pretty stiff test of one’s technique. You need a lot of vocal security for those high entries.’
‘But it’s a wonderful feeling when you bring them off, isn’t it?’ replied Amanda impulsively.
‘Yes, it’s a wonderful feeling,’ Anthea agreed with a smile. ‘I think my husband was impressed.’
But evidently it was not her way to enlarge too much on her husband’s brief comments. She gave Amanda a friendly little nod but, when Jerome Leydon called to her to come and look at something he was examining, she went at once.
Looking round, Amanda saw that her teacher and Oscar Warrender were making their way towards the door leading to the changing rooms and the vicar’s office. They were deep in conversation, quite unaware of her or anyone else, and hardly realising what she was doing, she followed them at a little distance.
As they entered the vicar’s office she heard Lewis Elsworth say, ‘She’s good, isn’t she?’
‘She’s quite unusually good,’ replied the cool, incisive tones of the conductor. ‘If she works hard with you for another year she’ll be much better still. But it was not only about the girl I wanted to speak to you. As you know——’
And then at that point Lewis Elsworth came and pushed the door shut, and the mortified Amanda suddenly became aware of the fact that she had been most, shamelessly eavesdropping. Whether Lewis Elsworth had realised this or not she could not tell, but she positively slunk away back into the church, thankful that there was no one near her to notice her deep flush.
Embarrassed as she was, she would have taken herself off home by now, but Anthea Warrender came up to her and said, ‘I hear you’re coming to our concert next week. Jerome must bring you round to see us afterwards.’
‘Thank you very much. I—I’d like that immensely.’
‘Did Sir Oscar say anything further to you about your singing?’ Jerome Leydon asked with an air of friendly curiosity.
/> ‘No. I—’ Amanda cleared her throat—‘heard him say to Dr Elsworth that my voice was good and that I should be even better after another year with him.’
‘Well, that’s true, of course,’ Anthea remarked. ‘He isn’t a man of many words, you know, particularly in the early days of a career.’
‘I should have thought she was ready for something more than choir singing and weekly lessons,’ Jerome Leydon said impatiently. ‘Warrender is almost over-careful about young voices in my view.’
Anthea looked amused rather than offended by this and said mildly, ‘He has a reputation for knowing quite a bit about the subject, you know.’
‘All right.’ Leydon laughed a little vexedly. ‘I stand corrected. Will you be coming by train on Monday—Amanda?’ He hesitated, but only for a second, before using her first name. ‘Because if so I’ll meet you at Waterloo. There’s a good train which gets in about six. If you can catch that I’ll meet you at the barrier, and we can dine at the Hall. That will avoid any rush.’
‘Thank you. It sounds lovely,’ said Amanda. And to her it certainly did.
Then she bade them goodnight and went out into the gathering dusk. She would have liked to have a further word with her teacher, but he was still closeted with Oscar Warrender. So she mounted her bicycle and rode off home, wondering now what she was going to say to Nan.
‘Did they turn up at the church?’ her sister-in-law wanted to know as soon as she came in. And then, as Amanda nodded, ‘What on earth could he find to interest him in a church choir?’
‘It’s an exceptionally good one and very well trained,’ Amanda explained, with an air of candour of which she was slightly ashamed. ‘Sir Oscar was talking quite animatedly to Dr Elsworth when I left.’
Nan bit her lip thoughtfully. Then she laughed suddenly and said, ‘Well, Mandy, you did better than I did. At least you can say you once sang for Oscar Warrender, even if only as an unimportant member of a church choir.’
Amanda laughed in her turn, rather uncomfortably, and then said quickly, ‘Something else rather exciting happened. Jerome Leydon turned up. Apparently he has a sister living quite near here. He remembered me from that time at school and we got talking afterwards. And—and when he found I’d never heard either of the Warrenders he just couldn’t believe it. He said they were both going to be in a concert at the Festival Hall next Monday and—imagine!—he offered to take me. What do you think of that?’
‘That some people have all the luck,’ retorted Nan with a slight grimace. ‘You accepted, of course?’
‘Of course! You don’t refuse a Warrender concert if it’s tossed into your lap. He even said he would drive me home, so that I needn’t worry about train times.’
‘Fast worker,’ commented Nan, looking at Amanda with some interest. ‘Is he—smitten?’
‘Oh. I don’t think so. He didn’t make passes, if that’s what you mean. I think he was just intrigued to find I was thrilled by the Warrenders without having ever heard them. Or perhaps his regular girl had stood him up and he happened to have the extra ticket.’
‘Perhaps.’ Nan yawned suddenly. ‘Well, I’m going to bed. It’s been quite a day. I’ll see you get away in good time on Monday. It’s nice for you to have a treat for once.’
‘Oh, Nan!’ Unexpectedly Amanda flung her arms round her sister-in-law, in an access of gratitude, excitement and an obscure sort of guilt.
‘What’s this in aid of?’ Nan asked with some amusement.
‘Oh—just that you’re a dear not to raise any objections, and to be glad that I’m having a treat.’
‘Well, I have my faults—’ Nan brushed a careless kiss across Amanda’s cheek—‘but I’m not a bitch about other people’s good fortune—yet. I hope I never shall be.’
And, on that oddly prophetic utterance, she went off to bed.
It was not, of course, until the following Sunday that Amanda had a chance to discuss the Warrenders’ visit with her teacher. And when they did meet it was he who spoke first.
‘Why did Jerome Leydon want to hang around the other evening?’ was what he said.
‘Hang around?’ Her tone was indignant. ‘He didn’t hang around any more than anyone else did. I suppose he was interested to find out for himself what I sounded like.’
‘I suppose he was.’ Lewis Elsworth looked at her reflectively.
‘Is there anything against that?’ she asked shortly.
‘I don’t know,’ was the unexpected reply. ‘Our Jerome has been going off on a rather unexpected tack recently. He seems to have lost his taste for serious composing and is beginning to make quite a name for himself in much lighter stuff. Catchy and not without style and popular attraction, but meretricious. Good luck to him—so long as he doesn’t try to involve you in it.’
‘There’s no question of such a thing!’
‘Did he say as much?’
‘No, of course not. We never even discussed my future beyond——’ she stopped suddenly.
‘Beyond what?’ he wanted to know.
‘Oh, it was nothing,’ she exclaimed impatiently. ‘Just that he said something about Sir Oscar being almost too careful about young singers and that he would have thought I was already a bit beyond choir singing and—and weekly singing lessons.’
‘Charming,’ observed her teacher drily. ‘Did he add that he would like you to meet Max Arrowsmith and have a talk?’
‘No.’ Amanda shook her head. ‘He never mentioned any such name. Who is Max Arrowsmith, anyway?’
‘A considerable power in the world of light entertainment, and much in Jerome Leydon’s pocket at the present time.’
‘Well, that may be quite true, but absolutely no mention was made of him. And now what I really want to know is what Sir Oscar had to say about my singing.’
‘He was impressed,’ was the cautious reply. And then, more expansively, ‘He said you were unusually good and that if you worked hard he would very much like to hear you again in a year’s time and see what might be done with you.’
‘He meant—he might do something with me?’ Amanda caught her breath.
‘Yes.’ Lewis Elsworth smiled not unkindly. ‘That was what he meant. So you see why I don’t want any Max Arrowsmith pushing on to the scene.’
‘Oh—’ she made an impatient little brushing-off movement with her hand—‘you can dismiss him from your mind. No mention has been made of him and I’m sure none will be.’
She was on the point of adding that Jerome Leydon, far from misdirecting her career, actually intended to take her to hear the Warrenders. But before she could do so Lewis Elsworth pushed up his glasses on to his forehead in that gesture which she now knew indicated that he was slightly nervous and said.
‘I’m very pleased with the impression you made on Warrender, Amanda. I know I’m sparing with expressions of approval. But you sang magnificently on Wednesday and I was proud of you—and the work we’ve done together. I thought perhaps you might like some sort of celebration—you’ve certainly earned it. I have two tickets for the Warrender concert tomorrow and I’d like to take you.’
He was smiling—really smiling full at her in that moment, so that her dismay was all the more intense. And, after the first second, all the more obvious. The smile stiffened and faded, his expression became wooden and withdrawn and he said quickly, ‘Oh—you can’t get away, you mean?’
‘Not—not really.’ Amanda snatched at something less than the unacceptable truth. ‘It’s such very short notice, you see, and—and——’
‘I know. The usual trouble. You can’t get away from the hotel.’
Amanda made a slight movement of her head which might have been interpreted as a nod. For, though she did not want to commit herself to a genuine lie—particularly when Nan had been so good about letting her go—still less did she want to admit to her teacher that she was going to that self-same concert with. Jerome Leydon.
‘It doesn’t matter.’ His studiedly casual tone did not conceal
the fact that somehow it did matter very much indeed. ‘It was just an idea. I’ll let someone else have the tickets. There may be another chance some other time.’
‘I do hope so!’ Amanda spoke with genuine fervour, suddenly realising how very much she would have liked to go to that concert in his company. The company of someone who could explain and share with her a wonderful experience.
He immediately turned to the business of the lesson after that and, during the rest of the evening, there was no further opportunity for them to discuss anything even remotely personal.
She told herself that she had got out of that awkward situation pretty well on the whole. But what lingered uncomfortably with her afterwards—even when she was in bed that night—was the way his bright look of pleasure had stiffened into embarrassed disappointment when he realised that his invitation was about to be refused.
The next afternoon, with the fairly good-tempered co-operation of Nan, Amanda left in good time to catch her train to London, and all the way to town she felt a tide of excited anticipation rising within her. Any unwelcome thoughts of Lewis Elsworth, or what he had said about Jerome Leydon, faded into the back of her mind, and she thought only of the pleasure of dining with a charming and distinguished companion and sharing with him afterwards what promised to be a magnificent concert.
He was waiting at the barrier for her, looking handsome, vivid and interesting. The sort of man people glanced at twice, as though they might have seen him before or would expect to see him again in unusual circumstances.
‘It’s that subtle aura of success,’ thought Amanda with a sudden flash of insight as he greeted her. And when he lightly took her arm as they walked across to the Festival Hall together, she was aware of a feeling of pleasure and well-being—even a touch of innocent pride—to be walking with such an interesting companion.
When they entered the restaurant, with its long stretch of windows looking out across the river to the mellow pile of Somerset House, she saw that he was greeted as someone of importance with the kind of smiles usually reserved for honoured patrons. It was all rather heady and enjoyable, and she was pleased to see that they were being escorted to one of the coveted window tables.
Nightingales (Warrender Saga Book 11) Page 4
