The ringing came once again, holding her, crowing at her.Odette closed her eyes, then found herself in the mirror.‘It is not me.It is with me, but it is not me.’
Lifting her skirts clear of her slippers, Odette strode into the hall and through its dimly lit lengths and climbed the stairs.The musicians had stopped tuning their instruments, and now the only audible noise were the whispers behind the stage and the murmurs of the crowd.She paused in the wings and peered through a gap in the velvet.
The curtain had already been raised, and the stage stretched out before her, a sea of wood that melted into lights so bright they blotted out the audience beyond.The piano had been raised from the pit, and beside it stood Cassius, wearing his conductor’s tails.When he spotted her, he swept his hand in a wide arc, a wordless invitation.Odette took a fortifying breath and stepped out of the shadows.
As she crossed to him, a smattering of applause filled the auditorium, accompanied by the chatter of confused questions.She took Cassius’s hand, and he kissed her knuckles.
‘You came,’ he said.‘I’m so glad you came.’
Her heart fractured with joy and grief, with love and loss, but even that felt right.Odette moved closer to the lights, drifting towards the point where the haze receded.From here, it was still not possible to make out individual people, only the rough outlines of their bodies.She stopped just short of the edge of the stage, in the place where the acoustics were best and would carry her voice.
What to say?How could she tell them what her life had meant to her?How could she explain that saying goodbye felt like a death?Should she try to tell them that every step on the boards, every note, every clap had fixed itself in her heart forever, that she had treasured every minute, every second?That she had felt their laughter, worn their scorn, that even when she wanted to resent them, she could not?How she knew that, to them, she was only a singer of songs, but to her, this life had been the most precious gift.That a million lifetimes would not be enough to sing every song she wanted to bring to life, to give birth to every character she wanted to play.That luck and hard work had been her mantra, and that both had given her meaning and joy.
Oh, how she longed to tell them how much richer life was when it was filled with music, and she hoped they would never, ever stop singing.
She looked out into the dim expanse of them, at their unclear faces, their shuffling feet, and their whispers.
‘I have decided to retire from the stage,’ she said.‘This is my last song.Thank you, my darlings.Thank you so much.’
Odette walked back to the piano.She placed her right hand on its edge, and her left hand on her heart.As she began, so she would end.With her voice, a piano, and Cassius.
‘Which song?’she asked.
‘You know which song.’He laid his fingers on the keys.‘Ready?’
It had begun as a song to align with the broken notes on a piano, with no meaning at all, just a jumble of words fuelled by laughter and vodka.For some reason, it had stuck with her and become a loop in her memory.She sang the nonsense of it, her voice dancing over the light melody that had made them both laugh until they almost couldn’t continue.
Tit tip tapping through the streets, jumping puddles and chasing muddles…
Light and free, the tune drew on memories they wished they’d had in homes they’d never know.
Then it turned darker, and here, there were no words.Only deep chords and Cassius playing as the keys spoke of what he could never say.Nothing but rolling waves, heavy with loss and sadness.
And finally, the end.Hope.Quiet, persistent hope.
And though I willkraj
with you we will find
our
way
home.
The last chord clung to the air, a trembling ache that surrounded her and Cassius.For a beat there was perfect silence, only the two of them sharing the stage.
‘How was I?’she asked.
‘Perfect,’ he replied.‘As always.’
The applause came in then, like an avalanche, tumbling down from the mezzanine, roaring up from the front row, shouts and cheers ringing from the boxes and even vibrating through her feet from the orchestra below.Odette bowed.She gestured to the musicians, to the rigging, to the lights, to the audience, and finally, to Cassius.Then she turned to the wings and beckoned to the person just beyond the curtains.‘Freya.Join me.’
The little soprano with a voice as good as her own, with her easy smile, coquettish lilt and, deep inside, the heart of a lioness, stepped lightly across the stage.Odette held out her hand.Freya clasped hers in return, and Odette raised both their hands, directing Freya into a bow with a soft nudge.Here, audience, she wanted to say to them.Watch her, for she is special.It was the closest she could come to bestowing the crown.
She would not be replaced.She would have a successor.
Had Freya earnt it?Would she be good?Would she be grateful?Would she fail?Would she be kind to the other performers, or would she use her chance to push others down?It was not for Odette to say, because underneath all the work, that was the way of their world.That was how luck worked, how chance fell, and how opportunity landed wherever it chose, without rhyme or reason.And today, it chose Freya.
