‘I feel terrible, Sully. I love you both.’
I stare at him as if he cannot possibly be serious. ‘You don’t know the meaning of the word. When it comes to the crunch and you have the opportunity to do the right thing, you choose yourself. Every bloody time! It was bad enough you did this to me. It’sunforgivableto do it to her.’
‘Please try to understand. I’m the artistic director of the—’
‘I know.We all know.But more importantly, you’re her uncle. You were myfriend.’
If I thought he seemed torn before, it’s nothing on how he looks now. As if I’ve thrown a grenade and it has scorched a hole right through his core.
‘Youcould still do this,’ he suggests, quietly. And my blood boils.He thinks I could do it because I’ve got nothing whatsoever to lose.
‘Let’s see,’ I say. ‘I could stand up in that concert hall—a nobody. The former almost stepmum of one of the students. An alcoholic, no less! And I could make a scene. But I’d likely be escorted out.’
‘You are so much more than that—’ He has properly wilted now, leaning against one of the room’s acoustic panels, hardware on his leather jacket threatening to scratch the wood, and I wrench him away from it by the sleeve.
‘On the other hand, Joshua Miller, artistic and music director of the New York fucking Philharmonic, could stand up and say exactly the same thing and it would raise all hell.’ Given his profile, it would make headlines around the world, but I’m not going to mention that.
He rubs his temples, as if my words have shot straight through them. He knows I’m right.
‘Obviously, it would have made more sense for you to tackle this legally and civilly during the week—or any time in the last almost two decades—but unless you can hunt down Ridges right now and deal with it discreetly, we have less than ten minutes before your brilliant and innocent niece walks onto that stage, unaware that he is probably recording the performance, ready to rip off as many of their gifted creations as he can possibly get away with.’
‘I know, but—’
I open the door. ‘You have this one, vastly belated, spectacular opportunity to do the right thing, Josh! Don’t let us all downagain.’ And I sweep out of the room.
61
FRASER
By the time Rachael and I have arrived at the back of the concert hall, Parker is already onstage. She sees us, and I follow her gaze into the audience and to spare seats beside Maggie, Josh and our parents. Given my brother’s intended inaction, and the fact that I am determined to protect my daughter from Ridges, this is one event that’s unlikely to go down the way Mum will want to retell it later.
Parker is in long sleeves, despite the warm evening. She’s always in long sleeves lately, I realise with the benefit of hindsight and a pang of guilt.You can only notice so much as a parent, Maggie said during a quick phone call in the car on the way here. We’re on the lookout all the time for subtle signs that something might be wrong.Are they eating properly? Are they being bullied?Murphy’s Law says the one thing we didn’t check for, injured arms, is the first place we should have investigated.
AUDREY
Josh and I manage to fight our way through the parents milling about in the aisles and find Maggie and the rest of the family just before the lights go down. I squeeze her hand. She’s not the hand-squeezing type; nevertheless, her other hand comes over mine in a moment of understood, silent solidarity.
Thanks for the call on the Harbour Bridge—
Thanks for rescuing things with Parker—
She’s not even aware that another rescue is imminent. Josh is a cat on a hot tin roof beside me, glancing around the room, looking for Ridges. Looking also, perhaps, at his adoring audience, as whispers of the presence of a famed international conductor spread through the auditorium.
FRASER
With Parker’s hands poised over the keyboard, I shoot a look at Josh and, beyond him, to the VIP seats.
‘We’re just going to let this happen?’ I whisper, fuming.
He looks panicked. This is the older brother I admired for all the years we were growing up. The man who sold out Audrey, and who looks with every passing second as though he’s about to sell out my daughter, too. All to protect his precious success.
AUDREY
I taught her this. Taking this moment to collect her thoughts. Closing her eyes. Hearing the music in her head. Willing it from her imagination onto the keyboard. I can tell already, just by looking at the way she has stilled, and her presence, that she is about to channel this performance from elsewhere. She may be thirteen, and those long sleeves might be covering a deeper story, but inthismoment, she is sheer confidence.
I nudge Josh. He has seconds left to stop this. Seconds to redeem himself.
FRASER
