Previous Key played - A flat major……… Perhaps I could always hope and dream dad was wrong and the recording would make me an overnight sensation, but as much as I would‘ve like for it to happen, even I knew it never would. Whenever I could, I always tried to use Jane’s subdued but still very feminine look to get as much fun and enjoyment out of my new life as possible.

A different key - B flat major

Only recently having dropped off my “unofficial” first recording into Mr. Carmichael’s music tape box, I knew I mightn’t hear it played for some time because everyone knew about the number of potentially hopeful school student pop groups the school had and they put demonstration tapes into his box practically every few days. The box was also there for non-musical students to place requests for songs to be played on the school radio system, which because of how it was set up within the school’s educational syllabus framework, meant the radio station although not producing powerful watts of sound, still produced enough to enable people living within about a mile of the school to be able to tune in and listen to the music being played.

And under the guidelines established several years ago mainly by Mr. Carmichael along with a selected student and teacher committee, any tape made by a student of a song they had played and made themselves (even if it was done with help of a parent/s or with other current students), would always be played at least twice during the year. If the song became a popular request from enough students it was then played once a day every day for at least a month.

The guidelines also stated that any student submitting a first time tape under a stage or pen name also had to advise Mr. Carmichael that a the written submission enclosed with recording. This was so Mr. Carmichael could investigate the student’s claims (in the submission) and so prevent students not attending the school (as well as desperate hopefuls) from getting even limited airplay. Since I’d submitted my tape under my non de plume name “Emerald”, I knew it’d be quite some time before Mr. Carmichael might approach me to answer any questions about myself and the recording.

That didn’t bother me because “Stay Awhile” was no longer part of dad’s strategy in finding a music genre that best suited my skills using the C.M.R. EOI. But with dad’s time almost invariably always taken up working, it might be left to me and mom to find songs I could try to record. Dad told me that he’d at least try putting out feelers among his musician friends and other music contacts for any writers willing to supply new songs they’d like to try getting recorded, which he already begun to re-forward to my email inbox for me to look at.

The girls I rode the bus with used the time to talk about things that had taken place at school each day or things that had happened over the weekend. Two of the girls (Anne and Carmen) in Band class often took the same school bus home of an afternoon and we’d sit together in the bus and talk about the music we’d played earlier on in Band.

They said they thought the Band sounded awful (including themselves) and told me they could (just) hear my Xylophone playing sound and heard my additional musical improvisations. That brought up the subject of how I’d thought up the improvisations which had me reluctantly telling them I had a Xylophone I could practice with outside of school (but not where). That led to some whining from both girls about how difficult they found it to find the time to practice Band class music somewhere private. They said the other two girls in the band Debbie and Maree had the same problem of finding time to practice and somewhere private and quiet to do so.

From as soon as I was old enough to pick up and hold a musical instrument, dad was showing me how to play it. So it never even occurred to me that others hadn’t been taught the same way or with the same enthusiasm I received. My musical upbringing eventually allowed me (unless it was a concerto or some other piece of orchestral music) to be able to play a song or tune I heard on a radio, CD or after browsing a music manuscript in a matter of minutes on any number of instruments dad’s recording studio had. It wouldn’t then take any more than perhaps half an hour, before I was playing the song easily and sometime even beginning to toy with the song’s melody to try and find variations that appealed to me more.

So when Anne and Carmen asked me how I always appeared to be able to learn and play a piece of music so easily, I naively told them it was practice. They asked me how so. After I’d explained how Jane was able to do so, I learned how both girls belonged to families that had brothers and sisters and nowhere private they could go to practice playing. My next naïve remark about how they could try going to a park and practicing there, had me discovering how angry teenage girls can get when someone says something stupidly moronic. Anne said “and how long do you think it’d be before some boy comes over and brakes my instrument, Jane” which Carmen seconded. Another stupid question along the lines of couldn’t they practice at school saw me being castigated as they listed the reasons why that suggestion couldn’t eventuate.

When I got home and talked to mom about what we’d talked about on the bus and also about how I never seemed to go to other kids home’s as Michael or that I’d never invited friends to my home? Since the first day at school as Jane, perhaps mom might have been expecting me to eventually ask this question, because her answer literally bowled me over.

I’d arranged to meet up with the other girls in the Band at school and go shopping today. During our stroll around the shops one of the girls, Debbie, started to whine about the Band “uniforms” which we had to wear. She went on and on about it while also reminding everyone that the Band’s first public performance for the term was at the baseball team’s playoff game against a neighboring high school in a fortnight.

Even after two return visits to the seamstress with mom, Jane’s uniform still looked absolutely appalling on me. What the lady could and did do to improve my own outfits appeared on me was to clean the white trim around and down the front of the jacket lapels to make it more pronounced with a brighter and more vivid white. She explained how it was done and how to maintain it to mom when she went and picked it up on Monday. When I went to Tuesday’s Band class and walked out of the change rooms with a dazzling white trim on the front of my jacket, the other four girls might have lynched me if I didn’t hurriedly explain to them how they’d be able to get the same effect easily. Mr. Carmichael didn’t say a word although I think he noticed the vivid white trim on my jacket front.

At the next and final dress rehearsal before the baseball playoff game, all the other Band girl members turned up wearing very different looking band jackets compared to any of the boys. When we stood together in a small girl group Mr. Carmichael could suddenly see how the effects of the brilliant white trim improved the uniform’s appearance, which the previous week had only earned me a quick glance from him. But now he asked me to explain how I’d made both my own along with the other girl’s jackets stand out so much. The following week, almost every boy turned up to play at the baseball team’s playoff game sporting jackets with brilliant white trim, leaving the few who didn’t to stand out like pariahs.

That day the Band set up at the end of the bleachers well past third base and in the hot sun, to misplay our hearts out attempting to entertain the crowd and parents of both schools. The opposition Jefferson High’s band were at the end on the opposite side of the diamond up in the bleachers playing just as loudly and just as out of tune, but the most important difference between the school’s bands was that Jefferson High’s Band uniforms were ten times nicer than ours and stood out. Our school eventually lost the game but went down fighting.

Something else occurred prior to that performance. During my second visit to mom’s seamstress she took an entire set of my body’s measurements (because mom told her to but never bothered explaining it to me). It wasn’t until Thursday week after school when I walked into my bedroom to change into something more comfortable, that I saw the plastic wrap encased purple outfit draped across my bed. Before I could shout out her name, mom hurried in and started taking the plastic wrap off without saying a word. Clothes being what they are to a teenage girl soon had me joining her.

Eventually draped over the bedspread cover lay a much nicer styled and looking Band uniform than the one I had. The thin white lace trim of the old jacket’s uniform outlining the faded purple fabric had been substituted by the entire jacket front lapels now being bold white, along with shiny rows of bright buttons down the front on both sides of the jacket, while the rest of the front including the button hole stitching, sides and back of the jacket remained purple. But this purple hadn’t been dry cleaned or faded and aged to death after countless pressings. The jacket’s look reminded me of some I’d seen in movies about 19th century army and naval officers uniforms.

This uniform also came with matching trousers along with a skirt, whose length when I tried it on came down to about half way to my knees with a split at the front allowing for plenty of freedom to walk and march. The cut of the skirt did mean though, that too higher marching step might easily end up revealing my underwear if I wasn’t careful. The long trousers (that you could wear on colder days) had white trim around pocket openings both front and back as well as the cuffs on the end of the legs. Obviously a boy’s uniform wouldn’t have the skirt! Also unlike men’s trousers (and the present band uniform) these trousers didn’t have a fly at the front, instead having a small one at the back, more in line with women’s clothing. Of course mom made me pose wearing the skirt then the trousers while she took plenty of photos.

Mom also explained to me how she’d been able to negotiate a good price for a set of new outfits for the entire band if they ever wanted to purchase a set, which she told me that with some financial subsidy could very easily be afforded by the school. But if Mr. Carmichael and the school didn’t approve of the new uniform, dad business could write the cost of this individual one off as a business expense for tax purposes. I really did like how the entire uniform looked on me (even the trousers) and if I was wearing a skirt instead of the trousers, a pair of white boots would make it even better to wear. I eventually was allowed to take the uniform off but hoped that mom’s photos would do justice to the uniform when I got to show the photos to the other members of the band.

Friday afternoon Band class usually allowed for the last ten or so minutes to be spent in a jovial atmosphere with Mr. Carmichael, unless of course we were rehearsing for a public performance. Today was a dress rehearsal for the following Wednesday’s baseball playoff game, so having hidden the new uniform under my old one in the admin offices all day, it was pretty easy to be able to get changed in the windowless side room next to the music room (temporarily assigned as the female change room) but keep the new uniform out of sight till I was ready to put it on. Once Mr. Carmichael had made sure everyone’s uniforms were OK, it allowed me the opportunity to tell him about my mom’s initiative along with accompanying photos.

While I showed him the photos I also mentioned that mom had also obtained a price quote if the entire band were to be kitted out, also mentioning mom’s ideas for ways we could possibly raise enough money to be able to subsidize every band member present, while still being able to pay for hardship students too. Then telling Mr. Carmichael I had the uniform in the changing room, asked if I could go and change into it to show him.

It ended up taking about 10 minutes for me to get changed because I also had to put on a pair of pantyhose as well, along with mom’s old pair of white high cut boots. It needed a few loud “I’m not ready yet” shouts, to prevent any of the excited female band members entering the room and possibly a few of the boys.

I re-entered the music room holding the coat hangered trousers over one shoulder, which Maree took from me before I could eventually push past my female band friends and walked over to Mr. Carmichael whose face didn’t reveal anything. His first words to me though weren’t something complimentary but instead a question. Namely how much extra would it cost to buy the boots?

The boys who were almost all enthusiastic about the new uniform, asked questions only males could ask under the circumstances. Mr. Carmichael perhaps amused at everyone’s reaction to the uniform I was wearing, answered each inane question asked by a boy in his normal dry tone. “No the boys won’t have to wear white shoes Malcolm, but the uniform does look smart with the boots, if Miss Seymour’s uniform is a guide. Noooo, you won’t have to wear a skirt Mr. Parker, unless of course it's really YOU who'd like to wear one! No Robert I think the shoulder boards on the jackets look quite smart personally. No Steven I don’t feel a different colored uniform might look better since school’s colors “are” purple and white ……..

Finally he cut any further debate and questions on the head by calmly telling me to thank my mother for the fashion show and that he’d need to arrange to discuss things with the school’s finance committee at their next scheduled meeting, before possibly ever going any further down a new uniform path. He did ask me however if I’d allow him to borrow the uniform so he could show it to the Principal for an opinion, then raising his voice announced that the class could leave before the bell today and signaling for me to go get changed which I did only to return again soon to hand the plastic wrapped uniform over to Mr. Carmichael.

A few of the boys stayed around to ask me and the other girls what we thought the chances were of getting the new uniform. Jane told them and I did it publicly (because Mr. Carmichael could hear everything we were all speaking about) that I had no idea, but added I hoped we’d get permission and that we might all need to start thinking of ways to raise $6,300 if the school board did give its approval. This was immediately answered by enthusiastic suggestions for fund raising including chocolate sales, cake bake sales, car washes and several more before the other four female band members joined me in heading towards the door to go home.

Sunday morning mom had planned for her and me to do some weeding in the front garden getting ready for the coming winter months. During weeding I mentioned about how the rest of the Band girls felt about their musical instrument playing and she offered a suggestion about how I could possibly help out. Mom’s idea was for Jane to ask her girlfriends to come to my place and have a practice session next weekend or the first weekend I could get them all here together.

With that in mind Jane began wondering about the best way to show my friends around the house, particularly my own bedroom and wardrobe, which mom told me was extremely important to help the bonding, then we also needed to actually practice playing our instruments together in privacy. I’d have to do this while also not telling them about dad’s music studio setup, in-case they got upset and broke off being friends. Mom seemed to agree and said she and dad wouldn’t say a word about the studio either and she said she also hoped my girlfriends left some extra female hormones behind for me after they’d gone home.

The next day saw me talking with Anne and Carmen in the bus going to school. They were thrilled about the opportunity to do some private practice without other people being able to listen in. At lunchtime not only had my four Band classmates all said they’d love to come both for practice and a KFC lunch, the other three girls who usually ate with us asked if they could come along as well. The other three girls all attended my Music class and all played instruments, which they wanted to bring along with them if they were invited.

My first thought was to say yes, of course, but Debbie butted in before I could and said we’d(?) all planned for the day to be a private practice session, so no one would be able to her how bad some of us might sound. Debbie’s reason while certainly not entirely accurate saw the other three girls accepting they couldn’t come, but the girl growing inside me asked the table as a whole if between all of us we could all agree to another day then we’d all get together at someone’s house for a music jam and lunch.

I also asked Mr. Carmichael for the uniform back and was told he’d make sure it was available for me in the Admin office on Friday and when he asked why, I felt awkward momentarily before telling him about the Sunday practice for all the other girls in the band, that had him saying he was annoyed he wouldn’t be able to come since he was busy this coming weekend listening to all the samples in the box outside his office. He did threaten me with mock dire punishment if the female musicians in the Band didn’t start to sound any better the following week!

I don’t know why Mr. Carmichael did it but it seemed to me that for the rest of the week’s Music classes, he appeared to be concentrating or emphasizing about the areas of the orchestra that funnily enough covered all three of my friend’s instrument sections. He was particularly critical whenever one of us played a wrong note or gave an incorrect answer but at the same time seemed to enjoy himself doing it. Towards the end of Friday’s Music class it was clearly apparent (in my mind) , that all three of us had shown a marked improvement in both our practical playing and music theory in the two classes left that week he taught us. My uniform was waiting in the admin office on Friday after final bell.

When I finally got home mom quickly followed me to my room so she could check for any stains on the outfit where she spotted at least two and said she’d get the outfit dry cleaned after Sunday and my friends had tried it on. The next day saw mom and I doing the grocery shopping where she also bought me some extra makeup in my regular colors for me to share with the girls on Sunday. We also stopped in at the KFC on the way home and ordered more than enough food for the next day’s lunch.

On Sunday morning I woke up especially early so dad and I could talk about things in general before he had to leave for golf. Usually dad was already out of the house before I got out of bed because he and his golfing buddies generally opted for dawn or near to tee off times. We talked about some of the songs he’d emailed me from his music friends and wanted my opinion on them. So breakfast soon turned into a mini Q & A session with dad the quizmaster and me the contestant with the result a draw, since neither of us thought any of the songs forwarded onto me so far suited my still not yet known or defined style. We just both seemed to agree that none of the songs did and seemed happy with the agreed thinking.

After he left and mom had had breakfast as well, I hurriedly cleaned up the kitchen before heading for a shower to get ready to greet my friends. I made sure I dressed casually and hoped none of my girlfriends had changed their thinking and was now wearing something stylish. The girls started arriving around 9.30 and as each girl unloading her musical instrument bag and box along with a folder containing music manuscript from out of her parent’s car, mom made sure I went over and thanked every driver personally, while mom also did a quick “nice to meet you chat” and give an assurance she’d be staying around the house all day and agreeing on a pick up time this afternoon.

From the start after detailed introductions of each of my friends, mom became an accepted friend to the girls (although much older). Mom started instructing me needlessly about making sure to show my friends everything there is to see, which commenced with the outside back of the house where the swimming pool was as well as pointing out dad’s open “barn”, where two cars and a ride on mower were parked inside covering the (secret) recording studio below ground.

Then I shepherded them all back inside suggesting they leave their things in the lounge-room before leading them on a tour of the house, blushing in embarrassment listening to my friend’s sometimes envy tinged remarks about how lucky I was to have such and such. The cinema room had agreements being quickly reached about the eventualities of their being a movie evening some other time. My own room although nothing special had the girls oohing and arhing everything in it and saying they wanted to try on some of my outfits later on.

Mom told me when we’d been planning today’s activities to after showing the girls around the house, to then take them into the kitchen and offer out cold drinks. So after showing them the last vacant bedroom at the end of the long main corridor I led them into the kitchen where mom had prepared several pitchers of iced fruit juice and soda drinks, frost chilled empty glasses along with a plate of cookies and another of buttered fruit buns all of which with little fan fair quickly disappeared with un-lady like speed down teenage girl’s throats while loud voices told of their appreciation.

My friends all helped me to clear up the mess before we headed back to the lounge-room where we sat and began to plan how to organize the music practice. The girls took their musical instruments out of cases along with fold up music stands and placed them infront of where they were seated. Mom stood silently at the doorway watching everything as each girl began talking about which piece of music they wanted to practice first. So that first ten minutes we made a lot of raucous with the girls trying to play the same music together and it sounded just like band class at school. I’d already decided not to try and bring the xylophone up from dad’s studio and instead had brought an acoustic guitar along to practice with.

After a few more minutes of painful mistimed and incorrect notes, mom decided she’d had enough and interrupted proceedings, suggesting that I should go and get a microphone so we could get a first attempt recording done and use that as a comparison baseline. I soon had a microphone set up in the middle of a circle the girls were now formed around. Mom imperiously but kindly suggested I not play since I didn’t have my Band instrument here and to instead conduct the practice lesson, which none of my friends seemed to question. So I began by making the girls repeat playing the same piece of music again together while I recorded them.

The other girls didn’t seem to mind and even obeyed my request for them to individually play their instrument so I could then record each girl’s solo effort for comparison later on as well. I made sure to use separate disks for each girl and write their name on it. Each of my friends played a different instrument, so during the individual recordings mom must have raved down to the studio and found the same instrument and bought it back up leaving it out of sight in the kitchen, which I had no idea about until a few minutes later. When Anne had finished playing her instrument, they all looked to me expectantly for what to do next.

Mom interrupted me again and apologized to the girls while she told them that her niece Jane was actually a bit of a ring in and that if they’d leave any questions as to why for the moment, it’d all be explained later on. She turned to me and said “I think we may have to tell your friends about some of your history later on” before turning back to my friends and addressing them. “Jane keeps it a secret but she’s been fortunate enough to have been able to be shown how to play quite a number of musical instruments” turning to look me straight in the eye before adding “and she’s actually also quite good at being able to teach others too. I’m sure you girls can persuade her to help you too” then walked over to me and handed me the studio Clarinet.

Looking at me as a professor might, she told me to give my friends a demonstration on how to play the same piece of music correctly. So without stopping to think, I did, error free, melodically accurate and at the correct tempo which had all my girlfriends applauding when I finished. I proceeded to do the exact same thing with Maree (saxophone), Carmen (trumpet) and finally Debbie (Flute) music instruments, each time mom handing me a girl’s chosen instrument beforehand so deciding which girl’s stand I read from.

Mom said “Jane, do what your Uncle does sometimes with his clients” before walking off and leaving me to stand nervously afraid that the girls would ignore me now that mom was no longer there. Instead my fellow Band members looked at me with hopeful expectation written on their faces, so that encouraged me to begin what I’d seen dad do so often in his studio and which I’d been brought up being trained with as well.

I used Anne as a baseline and explained to the girls what I was going to do which none of them seemed to object to. So moving over to Anne’s music stand and standing next to her, asked Anne to play the piece again, which I played in duet. Twenty minutes later and having her play the Clarinet while I stopped her at certain times, to show her how to play the instrument easier had her finally beginning to gain the confidence to play the score without any mistakes and with feeling. As she began to realize how differently she started to sound her playing not only improved but so did her timing, and more importantly her belief in her ability as wrong notes were no longer being played. When she completed playing the music totally blemish free, an incredulous look followed by a grin of amazement showed on her face, before the other girls began enthusiastically applauding her as she turned to me and saw my nodding approval and smile.

I encouraged her to keep practicing outside somewhere then led Anne with her toting her music stand and set her up in the back yard under an awning for shade, telling her I’d get back to check on her once the rest of the girls were also practicing elsewhere. When I walked back into the lounge-room, three excited female voices enthusiastically volunteered to play for me next.

About an hour and a bit later, I set Carmen up in the far back bedroom to begin practicing her trumpet score now she was more confident in her personal belief that she could actually play without making mistakes if she genuinely tried.

Stopping off at the kitchen to open and take out several small cold bottles of orange soda I proceeded to call in at each girl’s designated practice place and hand over a cold drink and listen to her progress. What had started out in the lounge-room as mostly misplayed notes and erratic rhythm and tempo, was now replaced by very passable sounding music being played by every girl. When I got back to Anne, and handed her a cold soda bottle of orange she took a sip before excitedly asking me to show her how to play the next piece. Instead I told her “she” should try showing me how “she” played the new piece, then standing around long enough to hear her begin playing a new piece of music which didn’t sound too bad, although there were still a few wrong notes being played I told her I’d come back in a while and see how she was going. With a nod of approval I walked off towards the back door heading for the lounge-room to plan what to do next and saw mom in the kitchen sitting at the table drinking a cup of something motioning for me to join her.

Mom waited until I had gotten something cold to drink and sat down opposite her to have her tell me she was sorry for interfering in the practice, but felt it for the best if the day was to have something useful come from out of it for everyone. She asked me how the girl’s music playing was going. I told her I thought the girls were improved 500 percent already and mom said that was because Jane was there to show her friends how to play their instruments. She also suggested
I should periodically check on the girl’s practice playing, then get them inside just before lunch and record them playing their instruments again and have the girls listen to the difference themselves. So with that in mind, I went and picked up the instrument played by the girl I was planning to check on next and followed my instincts.

At about five minutes to one I went and gathered the girls together in the lounge-room and made them play their music again while I recorded it. The smell of freshly delivered KFC was a distraction, but the girls all managed to play their first two pieces and in one case even their third piece of music very well (Anne). With my suggesting we should go have something to eat and afterwards listen to the recordings again and do a Mr. Carmichael critique that had loud sarcasm being offered in response, we all headed towards a heavenly smell for lunch.

Lunch was enthusiastically commented on by the girls as they tore into it without the slightest concept of manners or decorum. After lunch we sat back and digested quadrillions of calories from lunch before we listened carefully to each girl’s music playing CD. The differences between their first solo attempt and their second recorded performances where unimaginable, so good did they sound now.

Mom sat with us and commented she was amazed how different and much better they all sounded now and although all the girls wanted to go back to more practicing right away, mom suggested another alternative that soon saw my clothes being roughly handled by my girlfriends as they held up tops and skirts and dresses infront of themselves or asked if they could try something. Mom had told me this would happen and advised me to only watch carefully and see the girls didn’t treat my things badly. She and I watched the girl’s frantic strips offs and changes of clothing as if it was the norm.

When mom went and got the new uniform and brought it back to let the girls try it on for size, even she had to shout for order and give a name that saw it being handed off to the girl nearest to the door, Debbie, to try the uniform on first. Mom thankfully led her off to her bedroom so my overcrowded room now had more space and air for everyone. Knowing that my friends would want to have photos taken wearing the uniform, I suggested we head back to the lounge-room and model there. Mom had to come in a few minutes later and ask which one was Debbie’s bag before going over and extracting an unopened packet of pantyhose then heading back to her bedroom.

By the time all the girls had finished trying on my clothes and had modeled the new uniform, wearing both the skirt along with the trousers and had photos taken for keepsakes it was almost 3pm. It’d had already been organized that the girl’s parents they’d be picked up around four so we has about forty five minutes that we going to use to allow the girls to play their music scores as a mock quartet come quintet with me accompanying them on my guitar.

Dad arriving home unexpectedly and in a happy mood after having won several prizes at golf just after 3pm, quickly and unintentionally became involved in things, mainly because of how my girlfriends all talked (at the same time) to him about how brilliant I was at playing so many musical instruments. Carmen and Debbie again asked me how I was able to play so many different musical instrument so easily and well to which I simply answered them “practice, practice, practice”, before exasperated with my reply directed the same question back at my parents.

Mom looked at dad while he looked back at her before they shrugged their shoulders almost together and nodded, before mom pointed at dad and silently seemed to mouth “you explain things”. So dad looked over at me while at the same time asking my girlfriends were any good at keeping personal secrets especially his niece’s. Mom butted in on dad and told the girls she expect them all to pinky promise never to tell anyone what they were about to see and hear. After all four girls rushed over and wrapped their smallest fingers around mom’s smallest finger and said they promised to never tell anyone, she told dad he could carry on, to a look of bemused amusement on his face.

He then looked over at me and with a look of suppressed enthusiasm perhaps tinged with an apology nodded his head. Five minutes later he was leading everyone towards the recording studio he operated that no one at school knew about. Asking the girls to be careful walking down the stairs, with a sudden illumination my friends all found their eyes confronted by a recording studio. There were several large rooms with glass topped partitions that had drum kits or a baby grand piano occupying them, several of which also had microphones hanging down on steel poles. There were also two large separate rooms off to one side containing benches which had numerous slides controls on top, along with a number of cabinets against each back wall of the room containing reel to reel machines amongst other things. There were also various shelves displaying musical instruments around the studio with four obvious gaps showing where mom had taken the instruments from I’d used to demonstrate my abilities.

The girls were absolutely excited walking around looking at everything in the studio which they’d never imagined or even seen before, while dad kept them at fever pitch mentioning several famous artists he’d recorded here, that he knew my friends would certainly know. He also told them about how (and here he tried to keep Jane’s secret from being found out) his niece (me) used to come down along with his son Michael and do private recording session of their own.

Dad told them a believable story about how after Michael had gone off to take up a scholarship with a famous music college back east and was staying in the house Jane lived in there, I had apparently wanted to and did transfer over to here. He needlessly added that since I’d moved here, I’d spent almost all my free time practicing and recording music every chance I got. When he asked them if they wanted to see how everything worked, the replies were unanimous and definitely yes please.

Mom took over then and told the girls they’d need to ring their parents up and get permission quickly if they wanted to stay longer while also reminding them to tell their parents not to worry about tea because they’d eat here. After frenzied phone calls to parents and inquiries as to new pick up times (which was decided would be 7.30pm) mom told dad he was back in charge.

My friends during all of this kept asking me why I hadn’t told anyone at school about my music playing abilities. I could only shrug my shoulders and say I didn’t want anyone thinking I was better than them, which because of my sudden poor little puppy dog look had me at least getting nods of sympathetic understanding. Dad then used a recently recorded song to explain to the girls how different part of the studio’s recording consoles worked. He did so by playing them a recently recorded song, during which with a slide or touch of a button could be made to sound first like an entire string section of an orchestra. Then did the same using a coronet and be able to make it sound like a miniature brass band. He demonstrated by moving various sliding controls, how instruments could be made to blend or sound individually different with one another.

When he asked the girls if they wanted to make their own record the excited screams of yes had him laughing loudly. Mom and I (Jane) simply watched and listened as my dad captivated his audience.

About another two hours, which had first seen each of the girls playing the first music piece they had all practiced on separately, while then using me but sometimes mom as well to play other instruments of the same instrument family, as well as playing electric, bass, acoustic guitars, drums, piano, keyboard and even some percussion instruments, mom and dad together showed them several different ways the full ensemble could now sound.

The school’s Band playing interpretation of the same score was now completely and entirely different, although admittedly the Band didn’t play some of the instruments mom and I played. Dad even did recordings to highlight each girl’s musical instrument as the main solo instrument with the accompanying instruments playing a muted accompaniment which he copied to individual disks of each girl Jane handed over to him.

When dad finally announced the recording session finished, it was met by loud groans of female disappointment as along with my friends Jane was just as interested in what was going on and had been produced in the recording session. Mom had meanwhile gone upstairs and ordered takeaway for everyone and we all walked into the kitchen to exotic smells of oriental and Indian cuisine takeaway.

Dad now on both golf and music recording highs, kept everyone entertained telling stories about famous musicians he'd met or played with, to offering suggestions about variations to the music we’d just played and recorded. He even wanted to try and do some vocals although mom told him the girls had to get home for school tomorrow (loud girl groans were made hearing that). When he heard car horns outside, dad tried not to sound draconian (and with the help of mom’s silent presence) as he quickly reminded my friend’s once again about how important it was not to tell anyone else about Jane’s musical playing ability secret.

At about 9.30, mom announced it was time for me to go to bed and with huge hugs I thanked mom and especially dad for making today so fantastic. I was so thrilled about how everything had turned out today but also worried what might happen in the coming days, because the dormant “Michael” still inside of Jane still didn’t entirely believe in “pinkie promises” or the ability of any teenage girl to keep a secret.