Page 31 of The Matchmaker's Melody
ASHLEIGH
Rehearsalsfor the final concert were progressing well. The music was all lovely to listen to and fun to sing, and everyone raved to Emma about her wonderful singing. They were quite on the way to being ready for the impending visit of Catherine Berg, Will’s aunt, the woman who would be making the decision about sponsoring the choir’s summer tour.
Tonight, they would polish the pieces. Next week, Mrs Berg would come. It would be perfect.
Emma walked into the rehearsal space at exactly twelve minutes to the hour. She greeted Halli, who looked exhausted, and Jean-François, who was talking to her about some aspect of physics that Emma had never bothered to learn about. She found Randall and kissed his cheek in a friendly hello, and pointedly ignored Rob the chair guy, who still glanced at Halli with a rather glum expression.
She put her bags down, found her music, and cast around the room, scanning the place for Gordon.
He wasn’t at his piano, his usual spot. He wasn’t standing by the door, or sitting in a corner, studying his notes as he sometimes did. His tote bag was on the floor by the piano bench, so he must be somewhere, but if he was, he seemed invisible.
Someone called Emma’s name, and she turned around to share her smile and some nice words with a few people, and soon, Randall was calling everyone to their places.
Still no Gordon.
And no Ashleigh.
Emma frowned.
Then, the doors to the storage room cracked open, and the two emerged. Ashleigh’s face was white and her eyes were red, and Gordon appeared concerned. The choir members were still milling about a bit, drifting towards their chairs, and Emma wasn’t sure if anyone else had noticed. But she had. What was going on?
“Well, ladies and gents,” Randall addressed the choir, “we’ll work on a few tricky spots before break, and then we’ll run some of the pieces. As you all know, next week we’ll show Catherine Berg exactly how deserving we are, and how talented, and I’m certain she’ll recommend that the new Pemberton Arts Foundation sponsor our tour. Any questions before we start? No? Excellent. Let’s warm up.”
Gordon played the first chord to give everyone their pitch, and the rehearsal began.
One of the pieces, an arrangement of a very pretty French folk song, had a series of challenging entrances. There were pauses, syncopated rhythms, and some unexpected harmonies. The choir was more than capable of pulling it off with aplomb, but it required a great deal of concentration from every singer.
They spent a while on the passage, until Randall was satisfied, with the promise of repeating it within the context of the whole song after the break.
They moved on to the song with Emma’s solo, and then they took a break, to rest for a few minutes and have a hydrating drink before the rest of the rehearsal.
“Sounding good, Emma,” Janet called over. Her praise was echoed by several other singers, and Emma hardly had time to seek out Gordon, who still hadn’t said hello to her this evening. Jean-François came over to chat for a minute, Halli beside him, and then Victor, the tenor, had a question.
Before she knew it, it was time for the second part of rehearsal, when they would sing through some of the trickier pieces in preparation for Mrs Berg’s visit next week. She returned to her chair, to find Ashleigh, who was always beside her, still sitting in her chair, and not looking good at all. Funny. Ash could be quite pretty, and had seemed brighter of late, but today wasn’t a good day for her.
Recalling her promise to Gordon, and the not unpleasant chat they’d had while rehearsing the quartet for the Mozart mass, Emma resolved to talk to her after rehearsal tonight, maybe see if she wanted to come along for a drink at the pub.
Then Randall clapped his hands, the choir stood, and the music began.
The opera choruses went well. The Gilbert and Sullivan was bright and charming. And then came the French folk song, with its series of tricky entrances. They sang the first section, reached the pause, and…
Ashleigh sang her note, out of time, interrupting the expected silence.
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her face going even whiter.
“Let’s try that again,” Randall said, his voice even. “Remember to subdivide the beat coming up to that passage. From rehearsal number 2, Gordon?”
They tried again. This first passage went well, but when the second difficult passage arrived, Ash messed up again. And then, when they tried it once more, she was late, and then came in with the wrong note.
What the hell was this? They had to wow the socks off Catherine Berg next week, and this was not the way about it. Emma had worked too hard for this mouse to ruin everything for her. For the choir.
Without thinking, she turned to Ashleigh, in front of everyone in the choir, and spoke, each syllable clear and precise.
“When you’ve finished demonstrating to us all exactly hownotto do it, perhaps you would care to step aside and listen to the rest of us, so we can show you how it should be done.”
“Emma…” Randall growled a warning, but Emma glared at him and snorted. What? He was standing up for Ashleigh? Who kept screwing up her entrances and messing up the song?
“Well, it’s true. We’ve all been working our tails off, and she’s going to ruin it for me— For us. For everyone. It’s not fair.”
