Jennah squeezed his hand. ‘OK?’
‘Mm.’
‘Terrified?’
He nodded, his mouth dry.
She smiled. ‘Then you’re fine. That’s exactly how you’re supposed to be feeling. I must confess, I’m a little terrified myself!’
He took a shaky breath, still staring at the long flight of steps ahead. ‘Here goes.’
‘Wait – did you remember to take your meds?’
‘Right before we left.’
‘OK.’ She let her breath out slowly and then surprised him with a kiss. ‘You’re so cute with your hair all gelled and spiky. You know, all I’m going to be thinking when you’re on that stage is that I get to take you home with me tonight.’
He smiled. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
He laughed. And took her hand and went up the steps to the Royal Festival Hall.
The applause was heavy and went on for a long time. When André finally came off the stage his face was pale, beads of sweat lining the creases on his forehead.
‘Thank God that’s over,’ he mumbled to no one in particular.
Flynn stood up and offered his hand. ‘Well done.’
André accepted the handshake with a wry smile. ‘Were all sixty-three split notes noticeable?’
‘Not to me.’
‘Oh well then, perhaps there’s still hope. When are you playing?’
‘After this one.’
‘Well, good luck. Oh, and in case I don’t see you before the end, I was wondering if you and Jennah wanted to come out for a drink with me and Rachel afterwards.’
Flynn raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘OK.’
‘Great. See you later.’
Flynn sat, elbows on knees, squeezing his stress ball to warm up his fingers and staring at the ground. His heart began to hammer again as he realized that the Chetham’s girl, Amelia, had already started the second movement. He tugged at his bow tie and tried to swallow. He noticed a scratch on the side of his well-polished shoe and rubbed at it distractedly with a bitten-down fingernail. Dear God, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t need to win – I just want to get through this . . . Just get me through this . . .
He was jolted by the sound of applause. Already? The guy with the headset had his hand on the red curtain, ready to let Amelia through. Flynn gripped his knees, his fingertips with their bitten-down nails white against his black trousers. He tried not to look up as she came in, long dress rustling.
‘Do I have to go back out?’ she asked the headset guy, sounding flustered.
‘Yes, just one more bow. Ready? One, two and—’ The red curtain was twitched back again and Amelia stepped back out into the bright lights.
A shiver of terror rushed through Flynn and he inhaled deeply and tilted his head back against the wall. The applause died and Amelia rustled back in, her cheeks aglow, and disappeared down the corridor.
‘Ready?’ the headset guy said to Flynn.
Flynn looked at him and nodded numbly.
The guy beckoned him over. ‘OK, nothing to worry about,’ he said, taking hold of the top of Flynn’s arm with an iron grip. ‘There’s no rush. Take your time walking on and remember to adjust the stool. And try to enjoy it out there!’
The tuning was beginning to die away. Flynn stared down at the floor. The headset guy peered through the gap in the curtain. ‘OK, here we go. One, two and—’
The red curtain disappeared. Strong, hot lights blinding him. Five polished wooden steps to the stage. A mass of black backs and black music stands in front of him. A narrow pathway ahead of him through the orchestra, leading to the conductor’s rostrum and the piano. He went up the steps. Made his way between the chairs and stands. The conductor smiled at him as he approached. He reached the piano. To his right was the dark mass of audience, stretching back and up, further than his eyes could see. Somewhere out there were Mum and Dad and Rami and Sophie and Harry and Jennah.
He sat down at the piano. Adjusted the stool. Felt for the pedal with his right foot. Touched the keys. The applause died away. Nothing but the pounding of his heart. He sat still, resting his hands in his lap. Then looked up at the conductor and nodded. The conductor turned back to face the orchestra and raised his arms. A moment of screaming silence, then the music started. The soft, simple, two-note introduction to Rachmaninov’s Third Piano Concerto rose from the orchestra. Flynn returned his gaze to the piano. He lifted his hands and started to play.
Acknowledgements
My deepest thanks go to: my mother for all her time and hard work, Tiggy Suzuma and Tristan Back for quotes from Backuma’s Revised Musical Dictionary, Thalia Suzuma for her wit, Brendan Davis for the leap of faith and Charlie Sheppard and Lucy Walker for their invaluable edits.
A NOTE OF MADNESS
AN RHCB DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 446 43139 9
Published in Great Britain by RHCB Digital,
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This ebook edition published 2011
Copyright © Tabitha Suzuma, 2006
First Published in Great Britain
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A Note of Madness Page 23
