Harry stifled a sigh and walked over to where the other cast members had gathered under a tree. He wasn’t a fan of the media. They tended to make a fuss and he hated fuss. He put it out of his mind, greeted his friends warmly, then caught up on everyone’s news and gossip.
Over at the hall Harry spotted Christine Jennings waving wildly trying to get his attention. He strode over and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, laughing when she pretended to swoon. She introduced him to the two journalists standing with her.
‘Hope you don’t mind that I arranged for you to do an interview,’ she said.
‘That’s fine.’ He smiled politely at the women.
‘Are you excited about performing in your home town?’ the older one asked.
‘I can’t wait,’ he replied, realising as he said it that he really meant it.
‘Why’s that?’
‘Events like this give people from around the country the chance to dip their toes in the world of live musical performance.’
‘Not everyone likes opera though. I would have thought people around here would prefer country music.’
‘You could be right. But Les Mis isn’t opera, it’s musical theatre.’
‘What’s the difference?’ the younger woman asked.
Harry opened his mouth to explain but the other journalist interrupted with another question.
‘Opera in the Alps in Beechworth is hugely successful. Why is that, do you think?’
‘Apart from the fact it showcases some of the best operatic talent our country has ever seen, its main point of difference is that they hold it outdoors. I think that’s what appeals to people. There’s something magical about taking things back to basics, which is what we hope to achieve with our concert here in Yallambah.’ Harry smiled. ‘Obviously on a much smaller scale.’
‘As a singer, it can’t be easy singing outdoors to a smaller crowd, can it?’
‘I’ll let you know,’ he replied. ‘I’ve never sung in an outdoor concert.’
‘What are you looking forward to the most?’
‘Bringing a touch of theatre from under the stage lights to under the starlight.’
Harry watched them scribble in their notebooks. He’d be quoted on that.
Half an hour later, after they’d asked him dozens of questions – from his favourite show and his favourite role to his favourite food – and taken dozens of photos, they let him go. The older woman cheekily asked why he was still single and suggested her daughter would be keen to meet him. He brushed it all off with a laugh and was grateful when Christine interrupted and said he was needed inside to start rehearsing.
When he entered the large multipurpose hall, Harry immediately relaxed. The entire space, normally used for basketball and high school sport, had been taken over by the orchestra and singers. Black spaghetti-like cables and leads crisscrossed the timber floor and there were people moving about everywhere. Harry was home.
Casually dressed musicians and singers mingled together, chatting and laughing as they waited for the sound technicians to finish setting up the microphones and doing whatever it was they did – way out of Harry’s area of expertise.
Andrew took hold of a microphone and waited a few moments to get everyone’s attention.
‘Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Orchestra, if you’ll find your seats we’ll get started. Singers, please line up behind your microphones.’
There was shuffling and chatting for another few minutes before everyone was in position. The singers’ microphones were set up in front of the orchestra in a makeshift stage. Harry stood patiently behind his and began his deep breathing and vocal warm-ups while he waited for everyone to be ready. The conductor tapped his baton on the music stand and the group quieted immediately. Soon the familiar sounds of the music filled the cavernous space and Harry closed his eyes and pulled himself into character.
For the next four hours he lost himself in rehearsing for the show. It was the first time in weeks he’d forgotten about his father.
Chapter 20
Early Saturday morning Eddie headed over to the footy oval where the finishing touches were being done to the open-air stage for the concert. It looked incredible and much bigger than she’d expected. In front of the stage, hundreds of white plastic chairs were being carefully arranged in straight rows on the freshly mown grass. A wide centre aisle was marked out from the stage to the end of the seating area with red carpet. Beyond that, patrons would bring their own chairs and picnic rugs and sit wherever they wanted. The organisers had prayed for good weather and it looked like their prayers would be answered. The day was hot, but the night promised to be mild with no wind. Perfect.
She couldn’t wait to see Harry but he’d been so busy with rehearsals the day before that they’d only been able to chat on the phone. He called to apologise that their rehearsal had run late and after dinner at the pub all he’d wanted to do was get home, see his family and crash into bed. Eddie had totally understood.
After setting up for two hours, Eddie felt sweat trickling down her back and her hair clung to the back of her neck. She dug into the pockets of her shorts for an elastic band and scraped her hair up and away from her neck and face.
‘There’s Harry Baxter,’ Aimee exclaimed, poking Eddie in the ribs.
She looked over to the stage and her breath hitched. Harry had removed his shirt and as he carried a heavy piece of sound equipment over to the stage, the muscles in his back flexed. Aimee’s voice had carried over the breeze and at the sound of his name, he turned. The instant he spotted Eddie, his face exploded in a broad grin. He placed the sound equipment down before jogging over, arms outstretched, like a man welcoming them to the Promised Land. Baby butterflies did a happy dance in Eddie’s stomach.
‘Eddie!’ He hugged her tight, squeezing all the air from her lungs before kissing her firmly on the lips. ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ he declared loudly.
‘I’ve missed you too.’
Out of the corner of her eye, Eddie caught Aimee’s look – a look that demanded she explain what was going on. She hadn’t breathed a word to anyone about her relationship with Harry, not even her best friend.
‘How’s your dad today?’ she asked, ignoring Aimee who stood beside her, quivering with questions.
Harry’s eyes darkened. ‘No change, but at least he’s not worse.’
‘Will he be here tonight?’
‘That’s the plan.’
He looked strained so Eddie didn’t push it.
‘What have you girls been up to?’ he asked.
‘Setting all this up,’ Eddie said, indicating all the chairs lined up in neat rows. ‘Aimee roped us in to help. Hence how I look.’ She brushed off her hands on her dirty jeans. It was the first time in living memory she’d been embarrassed by her appearance.
One corner of his mouth lifted in a cheeky smile. ‘You still look all right to me.’
She ran her fingers through her knotted hair. ‘I need a shower.’
Aimee checked her watch. ‘You’ll be cutting it fine. If you don’t head home soon, you won’t make it back in time. It’ll take you at least three hours to make yourself presentable.’
Eddie glared at her friend. ‘I don’t look that bad.’
Aimee grimaced. ‘Don’t look in the mirror.’
Someone shouted his name and Harry waved in acknowledgment. ‘As much as I’d love to stand around and chat, I have to get back to work. We’re having a quick sound check then another rehearsal. If I get a chance I’ll call you later before the show starts. If not, will I see you at the afterparty?’
Eddie nodded.
He winked. ‘Good. We can pick up where we left things on New Year’s Eve.’
‘New Year’s Eve?’ Aimee whispered.
‘I’ll explain later,’ Eddie hissed under her breath.
Harry gave her a quick hug and another kiss before loping off. A skinny blonde appeared from behind the stage and greeted him enthusiastically. Edd
ie tried not to let it bother her, but the way the woman draped herself over him caused the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. Harry and the blonde were joined by more people and they all walked off behind the stage and out of sight.
Aimee grabbed Eddie by the arm. ‘What happened between you two on New Year’s Eve and why haven’t you told me about it?’
‘I didn’t want to jinx it.’
Aimee put her hands on her hips and stared at her. ‘Jinx what?’
‘We’re sort of seeing each other.’
‘Are you kidding me? What do you mean “sort of”?’
Eddie shrugged. ‘It’s early days, and I’m not really sure how we’re going to work things once he’s in Melbourne, but we’re going to give it a try. Sorry, Aimz. I know I should have told you, but I wasn’t sure if it was just one kiss or if there was more to it.’ She closed her eyes briefly and let the sensations of that kiss flood her memory.
‘Just one kiss? There’s clearly more to it than that. I can see it on your face.’ Aimee wagged a finger in her face. ‘I can’t believe you’re only telling me this now. I thought you were my best friend. We’re supposed to tell each other everything. Remember that full disclosure clause we signed?’
‘In primary school,’ Eddie reminded her.
‘Still counts. Now, tell me everything. From the beginning.’
‘You know most of it already, how we met down at the hall on Christmas Eve when he came and helped set up. I didn’t hear from him again until the day before New Year’s Eve when he came to see me at the farm and invited me out for New Year’s at the pub. We had a few drinks, danced, then went for a walk down to the creek to get away from the crowds. That’s when he kissed me.’ She sighed. ‘Oh, Aimee, it was magical.’
Aimee’s eyes widened. ‘Then what happened?’
‘Someone set fire to the IGA.’
‘You didn’t leave him for that, did you?’
Eddie nodded.
‘Are you crazy?’
‘I was on call. What else could I do?’
‘Did you see him the next day?’
Eddie shook her head. ‘No. He had to go back to Sydney.’
Aimee’s face fell.
‘But we’ve spoken every day.’
Aimee grinned, grabbed Eddie’s arm and squeezed. ‘I knew it. He’s The One, Eddie, he’s The One. I can feel it in my waters.’
*
The weather behaved perfectly. A gentle breeze kept the flies and mosquitoes at bay – that and the smell of insect repellent, which seemed to float in a thick layer over the entire town. After spending another hour setting up, Eddie had gone home, showered and changed and got a lift back into town with her grandparents so she didn’t have to worry about driving if she had a few drinks at the afterparty.
As the late afternoon shadows lengthened across the oval, Eddie and Aimee joined the throng converging on the oval, greeting locals they knew and saying hello to complete strangers. Despite Eddie’s reservations about opera, she knew she was going to enjoy herself.
The air buzzed with excited voices mixed with the sound of galahs singing from the top of the gum trees bordering the oval. Volunteers wearing hot pink vests handed out programs, buskers moved around the crowd – some playing jazz, others more classical music – and kids darted between people’s legs. Eddie was surprised how many young people made up the audience. She’d expected a mature blue-rinse brigade, but there were men and women of all ages, and despite expecting to see a plethora of pearls, the women were wearing everything from jeans and boots to their Sunday best. Accompanying the women she recognised dozens of freshly washed farmers out for a night of entertainment.
The smells were as tantalising as the sounds. Green marquees dotted the edge of the oval, each selling a different type of food – from the men at the Lions Club with their sausage sizzle to the bronze-skinned Spanish couple stirring giant tubs of paella.
Eddie had offered to volunteer tonight, whether to manage traffic flow, hand out programs or give directions, but Steve wanted her to enjoy herself for a change. Still, she had her phone and pager with her in case anything happened. Eddie was no boy scout, but she liked to be prepared. Aimee had changed her mind about helping the St John ambos the second she found out she would be too far away to watch the performance.
They collapsed on the tartan picnic rug Eddie had spread on the ground.
‘This is going to be amazing,’ Aimee said. ‘Glad we got here early. This is a great position.’
‘Is Gus coming?’
‘Nah. He was happy to stay home with the younger kids and I was happy to have a night out without them. Win-win. Are your grandparents here?’
‘They have seats near the front.’
‘How’s your nan?’
‘Her hip’s fine, but she’s dosed to her eyeballs on painkillers tonight. She must be bad because she let me push her to their seats in a wheelchair.’
Aimee glanced up. ‘I can’t picture Daisy in a wheelchair. She’s the fittest eighty year old I know.’
‘Eighty-four next birthday. And unfortunately no longer as fit as she was. The hip replacement knocked her about, and now her arthritis has flared up too.’
‘That sucks.’
‘Sure does.’
Someone walked past selling programs and Aimee jumped up to buy one. Eddie scanned the crowd. The plastic chairs reserved for those who paid extra were filling fast, and all around Eddie and Aimee picnic rugs were being laid out in a hotchpotch patchwork pattern on the grass. A cork popped beside them and someone giggled. Eddie glanced over at the couple sitting on the next blanket over. The man gave the woman a lingering kiss before pouring sparkling wine into her glass and handing it to her.
‘Did you bring wine?’ Aimee asked as she sat back down. ‘Because I’m not driving tonight.’
‘Yep. There are glasses in the bottom of the basket wrapped in a tea towel.’
She rifled through the cane picnic basket. ‘Found them.’ She held a glass out to Eddie. ‘Want one?’
‘Absolutely.’
Aimee checked the label. ‘Did you steal this from your grandad’s collection? This is top shelf stuff. Will he mind?’
‘I doubt it. He probably won’t notice.’
A fact that troubled Eddie greatly. Her grandad was usually as sharp as a tack, but since Daisy’s fall he’d become increasingly forgetful. The day before she’d caught him standing in the kitchen staring into space as if wondering what he was supposed to be doing. The most frightening thing was he’d turned on the oven without lighting the gas and it took Eddie half an hour to clear the house of the smell. She was terrified to think what would have happened if he’d lit a match. Although Frank wasn’t lying when he told everyone he was fitter than a Mallee bull, he was starting to look, and act, his age. More concerning, she suspected he was actually showing the early signs of Alzheimer’s.
While Aimee chatted to the couple beside them, Eddie cast her eyes around the crowd hoping to catch sight of Harry, but dusk was falling fast, making it harder to see anyone’s faces. She heard musicians and singers warming up behind the stage. Oboes, violins, trombones and cellos joined in a cacophony of sound as they tuned their instruments. Harry was probably back with them getting ready too.
Aimee scanned the program. ‘This is going to be a fantastic night. Les Mis is an incredible show and now you know Harry plays one of the leads you’re going to enjoy it so much more.’
‘I’ll probably have no idea what’s going on,’ Eddie said. ‘I can hardly remember the movie.’
‘That’s because you fell asleep.’ Aimee handed her the program. ‘Read this. It explains the entire storyline.’
Just as Eddie finished reading the program the stage lights came up and everyone stopped talking and moving around. The conductor raised his baton and the orchestra started to play.
Eddie was mesmerised from the first note.
*
‘Are you crying?’ Aimee asked Eddie when it
was over.
She blotted away her tears with a sodden tissue she’d scrounged from the bottom of her bag. She undoubtedly had mascara smeared everywhere. Thank goodness it was dark and no one could see.
‘No.’ She sniffed. ‘Maybe. Yes. Okay I was crying. It was so sad when the old guy died.’
‘Valjean?’
Eddie nodded. ‘And that song was . . .’ She paused. ‘I can’t even put it into words.’
‘You mean “Bring Him Home”?’
‘Yeah, that’s the one.’
‘What about Harry?’ Aimee asked. ‘What did you think?’
‘He was outstanding.’ Eddie had barely taken her eyes off him all night. ‘Clearly the best performer.’
Aimee chuckled. ‘You might be a little biased. I was watching you and I don’t think you even noticed there was anyone else on stage.’
Eddie sighed. ‘He was so good. It was hard to focus on anyone else, but they were all good. Incredible. Can you imagine being able to sing like that?’
‘I know, right?’
‘And how hot did he look in that costume?’
‘If you’re into uniforms.’
‘When he and Cosette and Eponine sang that song together.’ Eddie tapped her heart. ‘I thought I would burst into tears. It was beautiful.’
Aimee laughed. ‘Told you you’d love it.’ She stood and grabbed Eddie by the hand, pulling her to her feet. ‘Come on, let’s go find him.’
‘What about our stuff?’ Eddie said, tripping over a tree root in her rush to catch up with Aimee.
‘No one’s going to steal it.’
As they got closer to the stage the crowds parted and Harry looked up. ‘Eddie!’ He beckoned her to join him and when she reached his side, he pulled her into a warm hug. ‘What did you think? Please tell me you enjoyed it.’
‘Enjoyed it? She was swooning every time you opened your mouth,’ Aimee said before Eddie had a chance to answer. ‘You were wonderful.’
Eddie nodded and found her voice. ‘Yeah, wonderful,’ she repeated.
Harry’s laughter rumbled around them.
‘What’s so funny?’ Eddie asked.
‘You are.’ He grabbed her hand and squeezed her fingers. ‘I’m glad you came.’
One More Song Page 19
