Page 163 of Pervade London
I turned to look at her. “Why?”
“You might want to play that one instead.” She pointed at my case. “Give someone with talent the chance to do it justice. It’s wasted on you.”
Her friends laughed.
A rush of humiliation mixed with doubt nearly overwhelmed me. Closing my eyes for a second, I thought of Xavier. The memory of his love calmed me like a warm embrace. She couldn’t touch me now…no one could.
“Good luck for tomorrow,” I told them.
With confident strides, I hurried over to the driver. He opened the rear passenger door and I leaped in. The vehicle was different from the one that had driven me here. It made me wonder if James had a car park full of them.
I pulled my seatbelt on.
The driver turned to look at me. “Do you know him, ma’am?”
“Who?”
There was a rap on the window.
Penn-Rhodes was standing there signaling to get my attention. A jolt of hopeful uncertainty tore through me. I reached for the button and nothing happened. “Can you lower the window, please? That’s my tutor.”
The glass came down.
I knew immediately what Penn-Rhodes was holding in his hand as he passed it through. “I get to go to the Embassy?”
“You know about it?” he asked.
“Salme told me she’s going.”
“I was looking for you.” He glanced inside the car. “This is nice.”
I took the envelope. “Thank you.”
He pointed a finger at me. “Play your heart out tomorrow.”
“I will. I’m sorry about today.”
“Not everyone can access their heart like you, Emily. That’s a gift. The world makes accessing our soul that much harder. Don’t let it change you. You’ll soon be leaving us, and I wanted to say that, at least.”
That was the first time he’d addressed me by my first name.
“Thank you so much.”
As he headed back into the Academy, the car window wound its way up. We took off into traffic. It filled my heart with happiness to know that a musician as prestigious as Penn-Rhodes considered me worthy of playing at such an event.
“I have to make a call, ma’am,” said the driver, holding my gaze in the rearview.
I felt terrible I’d not asked his name. The screen between us came up before I had the chance, hiding him from view. I made a mental note to ask him as soon as he lowered it.
Peeling open the envelope, I read the gold embossed invitation stamped with the white, blue and red of the Russian flag. The invitation included the dress code required—black-tie for the men and evening gowns for the women. We were expected at seven P.M. and scheduled to perform an hour later. Leaving us all enough time to make it through security and get set up.
This would be my moment to shine.
In the envelope was a list of music Penn-Rhodes had chosen for us to play. I’d have plenty of time to rehearse these. Salme was probably heading home to an evening of practice, ready to get ahead of us all.
I noticed the driver had turned the wrong way. Instead of choosing Prince Albert Road, the car was driving through Marylebone and heading in the opposite direction, away from Primrose Hill.
I rapped on the glass. “Excuse me, we’re going in the wrong direction.”
