Page 111 of From Now On

What’s going on?

Duke can’t possibly play.

He remembers his parents’ memorial on Briar’s Hill. How he’d tried and failed.

Nina glances at him and he shakes his head; he cannot do this. She hurries over to him and hugs him tightly, whispering in his ear. ‘It wasn’t your fault, Duke. Eating the cookie dough didn’t cause anything. I’m sorry you ever thought it did. I love you.’

Until that moment Duke hadn’t realized how much his stomach felt like the snow globe Dad had bought him when they had visited the Natural History Museum.A blizzard of guilt and regret swirling around inside of him.

It wasn’t his fault.

The relief settles on him. Tears build as she rushes back to the mic and clears her throat. ‘This school is full of losers,’ she speaks loudly. ‘Cruel kids who think if you aren’t like them there must be something wrong with you. Kids who pick on those who are a bit different. Kids who are mean to others because they’re scared that if they aren’t doing the bullying they will become the bullied. But… it’s okay to be different. The weirdest people are often the most interesting. The most talented. Those of you who have ever called someone a name, hurt them, laughed at them, you… you should be ashamed. I’m ashamed because this is something I’ve been guilty of in the past. Not anymore though. I’m trying to be a better person. To be more like the kindest person I know.’ She smiles at Duke and gives an encouraging nod and he knows. He knows what she wants him to do.

But can he do it?

If Nina believes that eating the cookie dough hadn’t caused the accident then perhaps he does deserve to feel the joy of music again but deserving to and being able to are entirely different things.

Last time they had played together up on that hill it was a mess, out of time, but then they were out of sync as a family. Now, as he sees the love in Nina’s eyes, in Charlie’s, when he thinks of what they’ve been through together, he knows.

Theycando this.

But still he’s scared.

He raises his instrument, places the reed between his lips. His whole body is shaking,his hands, his knees, even his stomach is rocking from side to side.

He waits.

Charlie strikes the first notes, not the toned down, subdued version he and Nina had played last New Year’s Eve, but the full-on happyJungle Bookone. Duke’s mind is blank but his body remembers what to do, how to play. Nina sings, carefree, jigging out the beat, Charlie nods his head as his fingers fly up and down the keys, Duke taps his feet. By the end of the first verse the audience is on their feet dancing, proper Baloo-like, wiggling their bottoms as they swing their arms from side to side. It is, Duke thinks, bloody epic.

They’re not out of time the way they were at Mum and Dad’s memorial but perfectly in sync and that’s because, finally, they feel like a united family.

There are many different kinds of love, Duke realizes. The one he has for his family is certain and strong but the way music makes him feel, a fizzing Catherine wheel spinning around his stomach, is another. He has missed it so much.

This is, Duke thinks, what he wants to do forever and he wishes his mum was here to support him because he has no idea how to make his dreams come true.

The song finishes and the audience bursts into applause. Duke closes his eyes and lets the symphony of appreciation crash over him. Nina takes his hand, Charlie takes the other and they bow – not in the timid way he had practised in front of the mirror after his magic trick, but raising his head confidently.

‘More!’

Duke glances stage left and Miss Clarke, the drama teacher, gives a nod.

This time Duke slides onto the piano stool. Charlie runs backstage, returning a few minutes later with an acoustic guitar. Nina takes her place behind the microphone. They don’t need to communicate with words, knowing what they’re going to play.

‘All The Things You Are,’ Nina sings, her voice like the honey Duke drizzles on his porridge. It’s the slowed down version. The one Sarah Vaughan makes sound sad but Nina doesn’t make it sound sad. It’s raw and hopeful and full of longing.

After the song has finished, Duke swivels around on his stool to face the audience, his legs too wobbly to support him. The spotlights blur his vision and for a single perfect moment he imagines he sees his parents on the front row.

They are clapping louder than anyone.

And then his vision adjusts and they are gone.

After the concert there’s a drinks reception.

‘Duke, you were wonderful!’ Miss Clarke approaches them, glass of wine in hand. ‘You all were.’ She smiles at Nina and Charlie. ‘This is my brother. Tell him.’ She nudges the man standing next to her in the ribs. He offers his hand to Charlie.

‘Hello. I’m Graham Clarke from The Aringford Music Academy. We’re a private school with an emphasis on encouraging musical talent and wow—’ he turns to Duke ‘—you certainly have talent. We’re open to scholarship applications right now but we haven’t seen anyone of your calibre. If you want to apply you’ll have a very good chance—’

‘You’ll get in!’ Miss Clarke says.

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