Page 17 of Crescendo

“No, no,” Ella laughed, cheeks coloring more, making her freckles stand out more against the warm peach-hued flush. I was a sucker for freckles. “I just don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about me!”

“All right, here’s Ella’s resolution for the next two months, then,” I said, turning back to the table. “To know which key she’s writing in—”

“Oh, god, stop that,” Ella said, just about lunging for me. Eliza went wide-eyed.

“How do you write a song without knowing what key—”

“She doesn’t need toknowit, shefeelsthe music in her veins,” I said, and Ella hung her head, but she laughed with the rest of the table.

“I shouldn’t have come out today…”

Once we’d finished placing our orders and another waiter had come along right away to get everyone their tea—I made sure to ask for tea, too, since I wasn’t a monster about to disrespect the local customs by asking for coffee—Eliza sat up taller and spoke in her poshest declaration voice. “My intention for this program is to write a piece worthy of the Royal Albert Hall. Something that will play in that hall one day—one day soon—and show everyone who I am.”

I raised my glass to hers. “I’m sure you’ll do great, Lizzy,” I said, and she rolled her eyes, meeting my glass anyway.

“I don’t want compliments from a has-been,” she said.

“Well, you’re getting them anyway, so I’m afraid you’ll have to live with the pain.”

Bansi tossed in, “I just want to improve my skills… maybe enough for my parents to see music is something I can do.”

Ella smiled brilliantly at him. “That’s a great resolution. We’ll all be cheering for you.”

Clara nodded her assent and said, “I’m more or less just here to see what happens. I enrolled with my friend on a bet.”

Ella had said Clara was old money… that seemed like the kind of thing old money would do. “What’s the bet?” I said, and Clara smiled wryly at me.

“That I’d win him over. He’s an old-school rocker. Friends always having a go at me for being—pardon my language—a snooty classics twatover the sorts of music I listen to. He’s doing this program with me, and then we’ll both go do somework together with his rock buddies, and we’ll see which one of us wins.”

Eliza shook her head. “I cannot believe you enrolled in a program like this just for… bants.”

“Who’s your friend?” I said, and she gestured across the crowd.

“Dodge. Tall guy, bit ginger, unfortunately for him. Looks like a surfer, not actually very good at it. You’ll meet him… man likes to bother me when I’m doing better things.”

Ella quirked a smile. “Dodge… is that a nickname?”

Clara shrugged. “His name’s Nathaniel, but, you know. His first car was a Dodge, so we all made fun of him for that, and it stuck. All the better he sounds a bit dodgy for it.”

“Brutal,” I said lightly. “Well, keep us posted on the war you two have got going on. Hannah, how about yours?”

Hannah shifted awkwardly, sitting up taller. “Oh, er. Dunno, really.”

Eliza elbowed her, the first time I’d really seen Eliza interact with her other than echoing each other. “Hannah, don’t be all wishy-washy.”

“I’m not wishy-washy,” she said with a nudge back. “I’d like to be able to get a contract. For scoring work, like Lydia does.”

I beamed. “Aw. Does that make me your inspiration?”

Hannah snorted. “A cautionary tale, more like. What’s yours?”

“Me…” I laughed. “Good question. To get my music back. You know, washed-up has-been that I am.”

Eliza put her nose up a fraction. “What a terrible aspiration.”

I waved her off. “Don’t flirt with me too hard right off the bat, we’re still only just getting to know each other.”

Ella snorted into her hand, nearly spitting her drink, and the table burst out into laughter as Eliza scrunched up her face, a hint of flush poking out from under a little too much makeup. “I’m telling you—” she said, her accent slipping a little bit, before she tried again in a crisper voice. “I’m saying, you can’t aspire to go backwards.”

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