'I'll pay my living expenses out of my own bank balance,' Caroline said with some dignity. 'I should hardly expect my—^my patron to do that. Or I may be able to stay part-time at the office. It depends on what Mr Marshall thinks.'
'I imagine he'll think you've taken leave of your senses,' Aunt Hilda stated gloomily.
But Jeremy, with something of the affectionate support which he and Caroline had extended to each other over the years, came to her rescue once more.
'Now, Mother, why not rejoice a little on Carrie's behalf? I know this does all sound rather improbably wonderful, but wonderful things do sometimes happen in this wicked old world. As a matter of fact, I'm hoping that something marvellous is going to happen to me.
but I don't want to exult too soon,' he added in parenthesis.
Then before Caroline could say any more than, ^Oh, Jerry, do you mean that ?' he went on,
Tm truly glad for you, dear. You deserve some good fortime. Only—if you'll take a bit of cousinly advice—get that harsh boss of yours to keep your job open for you if he will, just in case you don't startle the world as a singer. Miracles do happen—but not often, as well I know. Don't take your hand c^f that typewriter until your first operatic contract is signed, so to speak.'
'Oh, I won't, I won't,' Caroline assured him, warmed to the heart by his sympathetic support, which she had found so sadly lacking during the past weeks.
'Well, that's the first piece of sense I've heard this evening,' commented Aunt Hilda, and, metaphorically washing her hands of her niece's nonsensical plans, she turned to her son and asked, 'What train are you catching to Birmingham tomorrow?'
'Oh, of course! You're going to the Birmingham concert, aren't you?' Caroline exclaimed. 'I hope Lucille sings marvellously and that you enjoy every minute!'
'She will—^and I shall,' Jeremy assured her, and he gave her hand a hard squeeze, as though to tell her they were back on the old confidential terms once more. Consequently, when Aunt Hilda retired to bed later, and they were left alone together, Caroline found it perfectly easy to say to hun,
'Jerry, you don't feel I've been a bit mean to steal a march on you, so to speak, when we've
always regarded you as the only singer in the family until you get firmly established?'
*I know what you mean.' He threw a careless arm round her. 'But you've as much right as I have to try to be a professional singer. You have a long way to go, of course, and you mustn't be shattered if you don't eventually make it. Very few people do, you know.'
'I know—and thank you for being so generous and understanding.' She smiled up at him gratefully.
*Well ' he laughed musingly*—I suppose I
might have felt differently if I hadn't got some fresh hopes myself instead of struggling on unnoticed and unsuccessful. But now I've got Lucille behind me '
'Oh, Jerry, to what extent?'
*A11 the way,' he replied in a sudden burst of happy candour. 'We more than like each other, Carrie. We're in love—and you're the first person I've told.'
She managed somehow to say how happy she was for him and that yes, of course she would keep it a secret, and yes, of course she realised that now he must strive harder than ever to attain a position worthy of Lucille. An ambition which he seemed to regard as no longer beyond any reasonable reach, now that he had her cooperation.
Somehow Caroline managed to shut off full comprehension of what all this would mean for her. It was no longer a question of subduing anguished jealousy. It was more a fight with leaden despair, which she must conceal from him at all costs. And the only way to do that, even
momentarily, was to think of him rather than herself.
That too was almost beyond natural capability, for she could not share his euphoric trust in Lucille. She was shaken by the thought that he might be indulging in groundless hopes, both professionally and personally.
Not for the first time, Mrs Van KrolFs words returned to her, and nothing in that lady's cynical view held comfort for anyone who loved Jeremy. It was possible of course that her judgment of the French singer was biased; that in fact Lucille was capable of a sincere love, which she had bestowed on Jeremy. It was easy enough to love him, as Caroline well knew. But none of her own personal glimpses of Lucille held much reassurance for her.
'Don't you agree?' asked Jeremy at that point, and she realised that her attention had wandered dangerously from her cousin's blissful rambling.
*Oh, I'm sorry, Jerry dear! It's all so exciting that I can hardly keep my thoughts on one aspect.'
She even managed to laugh quite convincingly, and he seemed to find nothing odd about her lapse of attention.
*I know what you mean. I'm in a bit of a daze myself,' he conceded cheerfully. 'It doesn't seem possible that you and I have been going on for
years at a rather boring dead level ' thus did
he describe the happy relationship of the past'— I'd almost given up hope of anything exciting coming my way. Then suddenly you find a diamond ring, use it to bring pressure on a celebrated couple in the very world I'm trying to
enter, and we secure their qualified support. After that—as though all this isn't enough—I meet darling Lucille and we fall in love. It's like a piece of fiction, isn't it?'
Caroline said that it was. She even brought up the well-worn bit about truth being stranger than fiction, and they laughed over that together as though it were something quite original.
But when she finally tore herself away from Jeremy's happy reflections, which he seemed prepared to continue indefinitely, she shut herself in her own room, sat on the side of the bed and stared bleakly into space.
On what was she to fix her hopes?
That Jeremy would indeed find happiness with Lucille, while she, who had loved him for years— she knew that now—^must stand aside and console herself with some problematical career? Or was she to hope that her assessment of Lucille was correct, and that one day a disillusioned Jeremy just might turn to herself for consolation?
Neither prospect seemed to offer much happiness in the immediate future—or even the long-term fiiture, come to that. The CAREER, in dazzling capital letters, which had seemed to shine like a beacon only a few hours ago, had now shrunk to a doubtful candle flame, in the light of Jeremy's news. She was lucky—oh, she knew how incredibly lucky she was!—^to be offered this extraordinary opportunity. She must work very, very hard to be worthy of it. But if Jeremy had told her this evening that she was his love, she would have given it all up.
At least—she thought she would.
She went to bed at last with none of her
questions answered. And although she fell asleep almost immediately, she woke to a weight of depression totally out of keeping witi the euphoric hopes she had discussed with Miss Curtis and Mrs Van Kroll. In addition, she had now to face the task of tackling her employer on the subject of her future plans.
Caroline knew that the choice of the right moment was always an important one where Kennedy Marshall was concerned, and it was late in the afternoon before a good opportunity arose. Meanwhile she had toyed with the idea of not telling him the great news at all until she had once more managed to consult Sir Oscar about the exact programme he proposed for her. But an innate sense of fairness told her that Kennedy Marshall was entitled to know as soon as possible what she had in mind and how far it would affect his own plans.
Consequently, when he pushed aside a pile of files and said, *Well, we can consider that settled for the time being,' she drew a deep breath and asked,
*Have you a little time to hear something I need to tell you? It's about future working plans.'
Tire away.' He looked at her with full attention, she noticed, which was not by any means always the case when she introduced a subject outside his own choosing.
She explained to him then, in a steadier voice than she had expected to achieve, that Oscar Warrender's good opinion of her had prompted her teacher to consult an old friend about the financial
difficulties inherent in any practical plan.
lOO ON WINGS OF SONG
'And this friend ' she was growing slightly
more breathless now*—has offered to finance me for six experimental months of intensive training in order to assess what my future chances might be.'
He listened to her without interruption. Then at the end he simply said, *So you want to leave me?'
'I don't^' she cried distressfully. *It's not that at all. I mean ' she stopped.
*What exactly do you mean, Caroline?' His tone was not at all provocative. Indeed, for the first time in all her recollection of him, it was almost kindly, and suddenly she found it quite easy to complete her explanation.
*I like working here—for you. I truly do, even though we cross swords occasionally. And I love the work. But this is a chance in a thousand—in ten thousand. I can hardly believe even now that it's happened to me. That was why I was so staggered by that phone call yesterday. It was from my singing teacher. Miss Curtis, to tell me she'd foimd someone who would back me.'
*Not a man, I trust?'
*No. Do you mean there would be objections if it were?'
*From me personally? So far as I'm entitled to
have them—yes. As you know ' he gave her
that wicked smile'—I'm a nasty distrustful sort of chap, and would suspect him of ulterior motives as a matter of course.'
'A friend of Miss Curtis?' Caroline smiled incredulously.
'I should be loath to regard an elderly woman teacher as a satisfactory first line of defence. But
ON WINGS OF SONG lOI
go on. You say, in the words of the old song, that you don't want to leave me but you think you ought to go. You can't have it both ways, my dear.'
He had not often called her 'my dear', and perhaps that was what emboldened her to say quite firmly, 'If I would be any real use to you as a part-time worker, I could possibly combine the two things—for the experimental six months at any rate. If Sir Oscar agreed '
'Oh, so Warrender is in this up to the neck too, is he?'
She explained further about the famous conductor's role as principal adviser and director of her studies, and Kennedy Marshall rubbed his chin reflectively.
'Well, I don't mind admitting that I'd be very sorry to lose you, Caroline,' he said at last. 'I suppose we might get hold of a good routine worker to take care of much of the standardised stuff. It would mean quite a lot of reorganisation, of course, but I was already considering involving you in more of the outside work. Attending performances, making personal judgments—for I've noticed your natural judgment is good—and so on. In fact, to a certain extent, I suppose you would be talent-spotting. Would that interest you?'
'I would adore it!' Caroline flushed with sudden excitement. 'If you really think my judgment sufficiently good.'
*I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise,' he told her drily. 'Well, talk to Warrander and see what can be arranged. If what I've suggested is a practical possibility to combine with whatever he
has in mind for you, I'm willing to go along with it.'
'Ohj thank you!' She smiled at him as though he had offered her the Koh-i-noor, which was perhaps what prompted him to reply provocatively,
*Until you're sufficiently experienced for us to rely on your unsupported judgment I'm afraid you'll have to put up with my company at a good many performances. Do you think you can bear that?'
*ril try,' she retorted lightly. And then, as she thought that soimded churlish after he had been so willing to co-operate over her plans, she put out her hand and just touched his as it lay there on the desk between them.
*Thank you,' she said again, and her tone was warm and friendly.
He turned his hand and for a moment his long, strong fingers closed roimd hers. Then he said almost curtly, 'You're a good child,' and dismissed her with a nod.
Back in her own office Caroline looked at her hand as though something quite imusual had happened to it. She remembered reading somewhere—^though she could not recall where—that *touch is the strongest and most primitive form of communication and should be used sparingly'.
'Well, I don't often hold hands with him!' she told herself with a laugh, and turned to other matters.
Half an hour later the telephone rang, and she was summarily bidden to the Warrender presence that very evening, to discuss and arrange her initial programme.
When she arrived in his studio she was not much surprised to find that there was little discussion, in the sense of querying anything he had to say. But the amount which he had already set in motion astounded her. Apparently it had been arranged that she should attend three or four times a week a well-known Opera Studio, where less than a dozen students received intensive and highly professional training.
'You'll be behind most of them in some respects,' Sir Oscar told her, 'but vocally you'll be on a respectable level of competition. Presently I shall be able to tell in which branches you are really deficient and in which you can rely to a certain extent on what you have learned in your rather sketchy development to date. In addition I shall want you here for personal study once a week, whenever I'm in this coimtry. You understand?'
Caroline said she understood, and then broached the subject of the suggested rearrangement at her office.
'So long as both you and Marshall understand that the demands of your musical training take precedence over anything else, I have no objection. Any other question?'
'Yes. Mrs Van Kroll is in favour of my entering for a contest organised by the Carruthers Trust in six months' time. But you said you were not much in favour of pubhc contests.'
'In general I'm not. But in your particular circumstances it might be one way of testing your weaknesses and your strengths, and it would give you an extra incentive to work hard. Mrs Van Kroll is being very generous at the moment, but
even the kindest of patronage can be a tricky thing and can cease at any moment.'
'i^yway, I don't want to lean on her generosity any more than is strictly necessary/ Caroline explained earnestly. 'I'm not a natural sponger. Sir Oscar, and I want to be independent as soon as ever possible.'
'I'm glad to hear it.' He smiled faintly. 'So, provided you work steadily, without pinning all your hopes on the pot of gold at the end of the Carruthers rainbow, I expect I shall let you enter when the time comes.'
'Just one more thing,' she said quickly, as she saw he was preparing to dismiss her. 'You do understand. Sir Osc^r, don't you, that although Mr Marshall is co-operating over the new arrangements with his office, he has no idea that it's his godmother—that it's Mrs Van Kroll— who's financing me. It's very important that he shouldn't know.'
'I think you may rely on my discretion,' said the conductor gravely. 'It has been tested quite often in the course of my career. Now confirm your arrangements with Marshall as speedily as you can. I want you to report at the Opera Studio on the first of next month. Good night. Miss Caroline, and prepare yourself for working under a very hard taskmaster indeed.'
'At the Opera Studio, do you mean?'
'No—here,' he replied, and waved her away.
There was no one to whom she could report these developments at home, for Jeremy was of course in Birmingham, and Aunt Hilda ostentatiously avoided any reference to what she obviously regarded as some strange temporary
delusions on Caroline's part.
Conversation therefore centred on minor domestic happenings, in which Caroline could, from long practice, display a remarkable degree of interest. Reflections on her own fortunes were, as usual, reserved for the time when she was alone in her own room.
The long talk with Sir Oscar had put fresh light and colour into the whole scheme for her projected training. So much so that even the thought of Jeremy and Lucille together in Birmingham could not detract from the excitement of having such detailed plans laid down. He had not made anything sound easy, but he had somehow made everything seem possible.
She did not know that th
is was part of the famous Warrender technique for getting the best out of everyone he handled. She only knew that he had fixed her attention so firmly on the attainable future that it was difficult to linger too sadly over the unsatisfactory present.
Caroline was glad that he had almost agreed to her competing in the Carruthers Contest, for only thus could she see any way of eventually repaying Mrs Van KroU for her incredible generosity.
At the office the following day Kennedy Marshall displayed as much interest as could be expected from a busy agent with three major problems on his plate—and no more. Having established the salient fact that Oscar Warrender agreed to what he had himself proposed, he said,
'Well, start combing the agencies for someone with whom you can divide the office work. I will myself attend to the other details over the weekend when I have more time. No, don't thank
me. We've been through that already and have agreed that I'm a kind, imderstanding fellow. Now get me the Nicholas Brenner file.' Which she did.
It was later than usual when Caroline finally reached home, to find Jeremy alone and waiting for her. By great good fortune Aunt Hilda had gone in next door to have a cosy—^not to say boastful—chat with her neighbour, and Jeremy began his tale at once.
'I haven't told Mother more than half of it,' he explained. *You know what moimtains she builds out of the most modest molehills. But I sang for the French agent, Pierre Carrie, and he was really impressed. He seems pretty sure he can get me some modest but useful work in provincial France, and possibly in Belgium too.'
*Oh, Jerry!' She gave him a congratulatory hug and vmhesitatingly posQ)oned any account of her own affairs during the last twenty-four hours.
*But that isn't all,' he went on exultantly. 'He strongly hinted that some time in the future Lucille and I might do some sort of joint recital tour together.'
*With Lucille Duparc! But she's an established artist. Almost an international one, in fact.'
*Yes, I know. That's why I'm so excited.'
Warrender 13: On Wings of Song Page 8
