A Voice in the Distance Read Online Free Page B

around, her bathrobe
flapping against the fridge door.
    'Huh. Well, who said I was in love?'
    'Bastard!' she gasps dramatically in mock outrage.
    I laugh and kiss her.
    The Royal College is a university that never sleeps. From
early in the morning till late at night, the marble
entrance hall resonates with the strains of some instrument.
On the steps outside, students come and go,
carrying scores and music books and large black instrument
cases. On the first floor, the wood-panelled lecture
hall is filled with sleeping students as Professor Meyers
mumbles his way through a mind-numbing lecture on
the rise of expressive monody in the late sixteenth
century. On the bench next to me, Harry has given up
his doodling and looks to be sound asleep, his glasses
askew. I practise the fingering to Rachmaninov's Second
Piano Concerto on the edge of the desk and think
about Jennah, the concerto, Professor Kaiser, my essay
on the role and development of incidental music in
nineteenth-century stage productions . . . My mind is
jumping about all over the place this morning. It's a
feeling I've missed.
    Jennah has rehearsals for the Christmas concert all
through her lunch break, but I've promised to deliver
her a sandwich. Music explodes from the double doors
that lead to the concert hall. Mozart's Laudate Dominum – a piece Jennah has been practising for weeks. I sneak
in through the swing doors at the back of the amphitheatre,
holding the sandwich out of view of Professor
Williams, who is leading the rehearsals, and take a seat
near the back. Jennah and the other two soloists are
sitting on the edge of the concert platform, looking
bored, while Williams talks to the first violinist about
quarter rests. Jennah says something to the girl sitting
next to her, laughs, and earns herself an angry ' Shh! '
from Williams. She sighs, then yawns and starts pulling
the loose threads off the bottom of her long denim skirt.
She hasn't seen me.
    Williams is clapping his hands together, trying to get
people's attention. By now, everyone has begun to talk,
and the murmurs rise like the buzz from a beehive. 'A
bit of quiet, please!' he bellows, waving his baton like a
wand. I am so glad I'm not involved in the concert this
term. Williams goes over to the piano and plays an A.
The sound of tuning is deafening. Finally there is
silence. Williams draws himself up self-importantly and
raises his baton. Then he looks at Jennah. She is trying
to fix the broken zip on her ankle boots. Someone
nudges her.
    'First soloist!' Williams barks.
    Jennah pulls a face and stands quickly, brushing the
hair out of her eyes. Williams gives her a long look, then
drops his baton. The music begins . . .
    When Jennah starts to sing, I feel the goose pimples
rise on my arms. I haven't heard her sing this piece with
the orchestra before. Her voice is strong and pure,
resonating through the hall. She sways forward onto her
toes and gazes out to the back of the concert hall,
her eyes bright. The sleeves of her grey jumper are too
long so I am sure I am the only one to notice when she
taps her finger against her skirt to help her with a
re-entry. I can almost taste her voice in my mouth. It is
the colour of dawn. I want to run up and grab her and
twirl her around. I want to yell, She's mine! The sight of
her, standing there, singing, makes me want to shout
with joy.

Chapter Three
JENNAH
    Flynn arrived in time to hear me sing Laudate Dominum ,
which pleased me no end. I'd been watching the double
doors for most of the lunchtime rehearsal, hoping he
would get here before it was my turn to sing. When
he finally snuck in, holding the sandwich he'd promised
me, I looked away quickly and pretended I hadn't seen
him. I don't know why exactly – I suppose I didn't want
him to realize I was waiting for him. It also reduced the
risk of eye-contact when I got up to sing. And it meant
that I could be secretly aware of him watching me , which
is always fun. When Professor Williams finally gave