But before she could ask, Karl clapped his hands and announced, ‘Our patron has arrived!’
For a stretched breath, Odette observed the shapes of two people marching down the aisle.A tall man, wearing chequered yellow pants and a green coat, accompanied by a shorter woman.Her form was too indistinct to make out, as she was completely clad in black, but Odette did not need to see her to know who she was.She knew that voice.
Odette strode the few steps across to Karl.‘Her?’she whispered.‘She is the patron?I am expected to play a part forher?’
Karl leant over the top of the piano.‘Don’t you dare, Odette.She is sponsoring this entire performance, and I need her patronage.Don’t.’
By now, the duo had reached the front of the theatre.Odette’s nails scraped the top of the piano as she folded them into her palms, the bite of them a firm anchor in a sea of ire.She plastered on a smile, not unlike the one she pinned to her lips on days when she met her pious neighbour during morning walks or in the park.It was just as well that she’d had so much practice over the years, because here she was, in all her buttoned-up glory…
Except instead of the neutral terrain of Honeysuckle Street, Mrs Crofts had invaded Odette’s world.And now she was surveying the ensemble positioned slightly above her while clasping her hands.
Odette’s stare narrowed.Mrs Crofts wiggled her shoulders as she scanned them, left to right, then smiled… not in greeting, but to herself.
She looked far too comfortable for an outsider.
Karl’s eyes, meanwhile, kept darting from Odette to Mrs Crofts.‘Well then,’ he said.‘Well.’He turned in a small circle.‘A chair.We shall need a chair for the piano.We should get things underway.Ezra, just through that door, stage left, there is a staircase that will lead you up here.We have a tight rehearsal time, and every minute counts—’
A small cough travelled up from below.‘I would like to address the cast,’ Mrs Crofts said.
‘You… you would?’Karl’s voiced scratched through a forced smile.‘We really must get started on our piano rehearsal—’
‘Good morning, cast!’Mrs Crofts stepped backwards, a little way up the slope, coming to a stop right in front of the first row of chairs.‘I have been sponsoring Mr Northcote here to write this opera and, if I might be so bold as to say, have had a little hand in its direction.The Loom Weaveris a story about a young woman tempted by money, comfort, and a rich man’s promise who holds on to her virtue and morals and resists temptation!In the first act…’
Odette raised her chin high as Mrs Crofts went on, striding back and forth as she outlined each song and the moral lesson it contained.The longer she spoke, the tighter Odette’s jaw clenched.Soon, that damn ringing in her ears had started up again, growing so fierce that Odette heard nothing but that noise, felt nothing but the wild surges of her anger.
‘Some of you would benefit from…’
How dare she.
‘We meet every Friday, at eleven in the morning…’
This washerworld.These wereherpeople.
‘…at my house, Number 5, Honeysuck—’
‘Break!’Odette snapped, and marched between the curtains and down the stairs.She blinked fiercely, pressing a finger into the dip behind her earlobe, but the buzzing only burred louder, and for a few terrible breaths, she feared it might be stuck there forever.Thankfully, as she reached the bottom stair, it eased, then faded completely.Feet clattered somewhere behind her, but Odette stormed on until she reached her dressing room.She threw the door open, turned to slam it behind her—only for Karl to catch it with the toe of his shoe.
‘No.No, no, no, no, no.No!’ Fury pumped through her, amplifying with each word.‘I will not perform for her.You will have to find someone else.She is a moralising, judgemental—’ She swallowed the word.‘She has no place in the theatre—’
‘If she brings her pocketbook, she has every place in the theatre.’Karl sounded as adamant as her, although he kept his tone more measured.But then, of course, he could.‘She has been supporting Ezra for more than a year.You think I can simply pluck a new composer from out of thin air?’
‘Find someone else.’She poked a finger at his chest.‘I will not sing her morals, I will not—’
‘You do not have the luxury of making demands!’Karl bellowed, his voice splitting with anger.‘You broke your own rules.You flew too close to the sun, and now you have to pay the price!’His hand bunched into a fist, crumping a sheet from the score, the notes folding in on themselves.‘You believe this is only about you?’His tone lowered but did not soften.‘Think of the cast.Of Sidonie, who has come from Paris for a chance to sing with you.Or Gustav, who turned down a significant role in Covent Garden because he wanted to be part of something new.Think of the musicians who spent hours practising for the auditions.You may top the playbill, but not everything is about you!’
Karl slumped against the wall, his anger consumed.Odette took a tentative step forwards and tugged the music from his hand.He released it, and she smoothed the creases against her thigh.Her eyes darted over the notes, absorbing the octaves and semi-quavers.
‘This is very good,’ she said.‘He understands my voice.He can stay.’
Continuing to smooth the paper between her fingers, Odette turned back towards the stage and crept up the stairs.In the brief shadow, alone, she hung her head and allowed a small wave of grief to wash through her.So many years, so much hard work… and all for naught.If she didn’t perform, her name, her reputation would become forever associated with a sordid affair with a petulant man.It didn’t matter that none of it was true.And Karl was right.She had known the prince was more enamoured of her than most.She’d had no interest in him, and yet she had encouraged his attentions, flirted more than she should.He was a powerful man, and many flocked around him.At the time, the attention had seemed like a blessing for the show, a boon to her reputation.But why should she carry the weight of his failing marriage?Why was she the one branded with every consequence, while he took no responsibility whatsoever?
Because every play had a villain, and in this drama, that role belonged to her.
Odette slipped through the gap in the curtains, but at the threshold, where shadows turned to light and velvet gave way to the expanse of the stage, she stumbled into someone.Fast and firm, Cassius grasped her before she could fall.He turned her around to face him, his hand clasping her biceps to hold her steady.A flash of anger sparked inside her, but before she could strike out in pre-emptive defence, he brushed a gentle thumb over her sleeve in a soothing gesture.
‘She’s gone,’ he said.‘I put on my grumpiest conductor voice and told her the cast had far too much work ahead of them to join her society, and if she wanted them to perform at their peak, she needed to let them work.I alsomighthave let slip that you and I were sharing an intimate pot of tea with a chaperone when the scandal occurred.I thanked her for her support against the press intrusion, expressed how much it concerned me, given what might have happened if the man had found you alone.And explained that you were still very emotional.She’s not very good at managing compliments like that.Might be worth remembering.’
Now tears did well in her eyes.Because wasn’t that the truth?Neither Karl nor the press had eventhoughtof her safety.They’d all assumed that, if the man had found her alone, she would have simply got what she deserved.
