Previous Key played - B flat major……… 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.

A Different Key – C Major

On the school bus this morning neither Carmen, Anne or myself spoke a word about what taken place yesterday because of the closeness of nearby students who might have been able to hear, so instead we talked about other things although it was obvious the three of us were almost jumping out of our skins wanting to tell each other our favourite thing about yesterday.

Likewise at lunchtime when Sue, Julie and Michele asked the five of us about how yesterday turned out, we all said it turned out well and had managed to get several useful hours of practice along with having fun trying on some of my (Jane’s) clothes after a KFC lunch. But none of the girls mentioned or in any way hinted or made reference to either about my musical instrument playing talents or about dad’s recording studio. The girls did admit though that they’d learned a lot about how to play their instruments better, which had Sue, Jane and Micky (Michele) wanting to know more. My four Band friends and I seemed to reply in unintentional unison “practice, practice, practice” before all five of us broke up in laughter that brought confused stares from our three friends as well as strange looks from others sitting around us.

In last class Band, I could easily hear how noticeably improved certain areas of the band now sounded. At the end of class as we were leaving Mr. Carmichael called me aside and asked if playing at the back of the band formation (as I did, although also next to the over enthusiastic drummer, Barry) did I notice the improvement in anyone individually or the band as a whole, and I told him straight faced I didn’t think so mentioning the difficulty of hearing over the loud drums next to me.

I spied Debbie and Carmen waiting outside just far enough away not to hear and asked Mr. Carmichael with a look of not understanding entirely why was he asking me? I suggested it might have simply been that the band may have discovered the three P’s and to the confused look now on “his” face (which I wanted to laugh at) I said “practice, practice, practice” which had him break up in laughter.

“Of course the old three P’s Miss Seymour, I really should have realised that myself. But between you and me in all honesty, I really would like to know the method you used so I can teach the rest of the band how to improve their playing as well as you seemed to have taught your friends.” I could only offer the three P’s excuse again and bid him “goodbye sir I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon” and dashed off to join my friends now walking towards the school bus.

On the bus trip home, as much as Debbie and Carmen pressured me, I didn’t relate what Mr. Carmichael had talked to me about, although I did tell them that he’d noticed the improved playing coming from certain sections of the Band.

After desert that evening, dad and I were discussing one of the songs he’d forwarded on to me several days prior and that we’d discussed several times now. When he unexpectedly asked me how my Music and Band classes were going, I should have realised something was up and I mightn’t like it. He momentarily paused possibly trying to think of a way to impart bad news to me before lowering the boom on me, announced that my music teacher had phoned him today and the pair had talked about my recording of “Stay Awhile” I’d left in the music box outside his office.

He told me that my teacher had been so impressed with my song that he found it difficult to believe my written submission which stated I played most of the instruments on it. He’d phoned up dad to confirm whether I actually had played the majority of the instruments or if I’d had professional musicians accompany me on it instead of what I’d written on my submission. Dad said he’d been so angry that my honesty had been questioned, he’d bluntly told my teacher I wasn’t a liar and made Mr. Carmichael apologize, then quickly explained to my teacher all about his own musical background and the recording studio as well as about the EOI C.M.R. had offered me. Dad told me he was sorry if anything might happen in any of Mr. Carmichael’s classes over the next couple of days but was very sure nothing would. Apparently Mr. Carmichael liked the version of the song I’d recorded so much, he’d told dad he was going to arrange for it to be added to the school radio’s daily play list starting next week.

Dad added that my Music teacher didn’t want me to use the music box outside the office door in future to drop off any song’s I recorded and to instead simply hand him any disks of songs I’d recorded before Music or Band classes. Dad said he just wished he could be a fly on the wall during my Band classes either tomorrow or Friday, before telling me that if I (Jane) ran into any problems in class to tell him and he’d come down to the school and settle them.

The following day in Music it seemed as if every second question requiring an answer was being directed towards me by Mr. Carmichael. With Band following Music today, I just hoped that the singling out would stop or else I’d tell dad about it when I got home……..It did and then again it didn’t.

When we had completed rehearsing the first piece of music on the Band’s play list for the now millionth time, Mr. Carmichael sarcastically announced to the Band his congratulations that after two months of rehearsals of music, he felt we hadn’t shown the slightest bit of improvement. He specifically mentioned the percussion area as a deep concern. I expected him to single me out again as he’d already done in Music. But I was entirely wrong, especially as to the “why”.

Instead he addressed Barry Roberts (who was the drummer) in a particularly sarcastic tone of voice asking him if he’d like to demonstrate to the rest of the band the 2/4 tempo, illustrating it by drawing two crotchets on the blackboard behind him. He then asked Barry to demonstrate the 3/4 tempo followed by the 4/4 tempo each time drawing the relevant number of crotchet notes below the tempo. After Barry had beat out each tempo on one of his drums, Mr. Carmichael told him he wasn’t playing any of the tempos correctly and in a matter of fact tone asked me to sit at the drums and demonstrate how to play the tempo correctly. I found out on the bus trip home (since this was my first year in any of Mr. Carmichael’s classes), that neither of my friends could ever recall hearing Mr. Carmichael publicly embarrassing a student in class before.

Hoping to avoid Barry’s situation, without thinking I obeyed Mr. Carmichael request and went and sat on Barry’s now empty stool and played the drum beat tempos he called out while pointing his baton at the relevant chalk drawn set of notes referring to the tempo, expecting him to then tell Barry to resume his seat behind the drums and try again. He didn’t though. Instead Mr. Carmichael asking me to remain seated at the drums then announced the next piece of music the band had to play, before beginning to wave his baton to indicate the tempo, quietly saying “2,3 and”.

Since I knew Barry always struck the drums much too hard and loud for the music my far softer and quieter drum playing allowed the Band’s individual sections to be able to hear themselves more easily. They seemed to realize this as well after about the first five bars played as if in silent agreement the musicians began concentrating on playing in tempo more smoothly without now having to compete to be heard over Barry’s deafening drums. Keeping a careful watch on Mr. Carmichael’s baton tempo, I was able to move away from Barry’s constant pounding and bring in additional ruffles and cascades, which helped make the band sound much better as well. The entire Band also ended up finishing the music piece on the same beat and all together, another first, which every musician realised murmuring among one another.

Mr. Carmichael saw how everyone reacted and quickly named another piece of music, allowing everyone a frantic 15 seconds to find the manuscript and set it up on music stands to follow before he waved the baton’s tempo and quietly said “5,6,7 and….” Again everyone began playing exactly at the same moment without a wrongly played note. By the end of the first line he called out for Barry to watch and listen to my drum play closely and see how I manage to bring feeling to the drums.

I thought that when Barry heard Mr. Carmichael’s shouted remark he was going to drag me backwards off the drummer stool and beat me to a bloody pulp, but he didn’t, even when at the end of the music when Mr. Carmichael told him “now sit back down at the drums after Jane gets up off of the stool and try playing the drums like you’ve just been shown”.

The Band then repeated the same pieces yet again with Barry back playing drum percussion, this time however far more quietly then he’d previously ever done and although the Band’s playing didn’t sound quite as good as it had when I’d played the percussion, it certainly sounded much better than it used to. Mr. Carmichael’s critique of Barry’s drum playing afterwards was both accurate and detailed (another first I thought) although he tried to emphasise his incredible improvement now he’d been shown and heard how to play the pieces of music as they were supposed to be played. He critiqued the tuba players yet again and said he wanted them to practice the music till they could play it blindfolded with no mistakes.

When the final bell rang for the day everyone packed away their instruments and began filing out. As I was walking past Mr. Carmichael he said “thank you for your help today Miss Seymour and don’t forget what I said about new songs”, so I nodded my thanks with a smile thrown in as well. Once outside a number of the class quietly offered me their thanks although keeping an eye out for Barry who was still inside being spoken to by Mr. Carmichael.

Just as I was about to step onto the bus for home a deep bass voice shouting out my surname caused me to panic, because the voice had Barry’s distinctive tone. When he shouted out my surname again but this time adding in plaintive tones “please, before you get on I just need to ask you something” it made me turn around and step back onto the footpath. He came running up almost out of breath and asked me if I could find some time perhaps before classes to show him how to play the drums the way I had. I must have sighed loudly or something, because he laughed while telling me he might be big but he’d never hit a girl no matter what, which I thanked him for before stepping back aboard the bus.

A lot of the dad’s friend’s songs he’d emailed onto me, only had the music manuscript and lyrics attached to them. But a song that had caught both dad’s and my attention recently and we’d discussed quite a bit about, also had an attached sound bite with the email that allowed the person receiving it to hear the writers’ interpretation as to the way the song should sound. Since it’s easier to listen to music then it is to imagine the melody by reading it, I’d replayed it a number of times and liked this song’s particular melody and beat (even if it was only being played on an acoustic guitar).

I went down into dad’s studio after tea the following night and mucked about playing with the song using electric instruments instead of the lone acoustic guitar. Initially I started out with a lead guitar then added rhythm and bass guitars and eventually a simple drum backing. Mom had to come down and tell me it was time for bed, so far was I involved in working out different arrangements to the song. This time I intentionally left a copy of the music I’d recorded so far in dad’s mixing console so he could listen to what I’d been working on.

The next afternoon I came home from school and changed into slop clothes. When I went to surprisingly join dad in the lounge-room and watch some TV, he got up from where he’d been sitting and said he wanted me in the studio. I excitedly followed him to the studio’s mixing room where dad placed my written with yesterday’s date disk into one of the several hard drives built into the console. After playing it all the way through he then began playing certain parts, repeatedly stopping to replay them repeatedly and each time he did he’d offer ideas and suggestions. Then dad got up and asking me to listen to something went over and sat down behind a keyboard he’d already pre-set the keyboard buttons and slides of, that turned it into a “mood” synthesizer and told me to record what he played. The music although clearly the same melody as on my disk now sounded very different, before dad got up and went over and picked up a wired saxophone and with the words “tape this” began playing incidental music. He did this several more times using different instruments before he came back into the mixing room and sat back down next to me.

Plates with food on it being quietly placed infront of both dad and me by mom indicated just how long we must have been downstairs together mixing and editing the music. After eating, dad and I continued to mix and edit the recording. We halted around 9pm because dad said it was almost my bed time. He said it mightn’t be until sometime on the weekend that we’d listen to it together again then we’d talk about working out the vocals and harmonies.

The next day Friday, saw me sitting through classes robotically as I kept thinking of different ways to sing the lyrics in my mind. In Band, Mr. Carmichael’s fierce glare at me after I’d played a wrong note (unheard of) told me how far away my mind was from Band class. Even on the bus trip home my mind was elsewhere which Anne didn’t have any problems in telling me.

A teenager who doesn’t own a pair of earbuds or else headphones is so out of touch with reality, it isn’t worth thinking about. Everyone student at school seemed to roam the corridors and playgrounds wearing them. I did it as well. But anyone caught wearing them “during” lessons had them immediately confiscated and told to report to the Principal immediately. So it wasn’t that strange to see a student pass over an earbud to a friend so they could listen to a song being played on the school radio network, although the school radio wasn’t necessarily the radio station all students listened to. So on Tuesday between changing classrooms, it didn’t enter my mind when I saw students stopping to hand over an earpiece to a friend, or to listen to something.

But while waiting in the queue at lunchtime, I was astonished to hear the girl behind me very softly singing some of “Stay Awhile” to herself. When I sat down at our “girl” table Michele was doing the same although subtly trying to sway her body in time to the song without anyone noticing. The same thing happened several more times during the afternoon and in all honesty it felt great. I told mom about it as soon as I got home and then dad about it as soon as he came up from the studio for the day. Over the following few days, I saw it happen far more than I might have expected or even possibly imagined. The song even became a two minute piece of girl talk at lunch as my girlfriends asked each other who Emerald might have been and how good the song sounded.

On Friday after Band, Mr. Carmichael asked me how it felt to have a song voted most popular with students placing notes inside his box and I smiled and said that it mightn’t be so popular if the students knew who Emerald really was. He thought about that for a moment before asking me if I was any further down the path in my EOI project. I told him there might be a “possible” song shortly and with his reminding me when it was done to make sure I gave him a copy to play, he wished me a good weekend.

The previous Sunday had been a bust for doing any work on ”It’s Always Too Late” because mom decided that the family needed a change of scenery, so we went and visited a zoo and picnicked there for lunch instead of dad and me hanging out in the studio.

Then for the past week dad had been so flat out in his studio doing production work, I had to try and keep patient before he and I might be able to restart work on ”It’s Always Too Late”. Even today dad still had a late running Friday session that had needed this morning to get it finalised and ready for editing on Monday. After waiting for the group to pack up and leave he came inside and I was hoping that he would be still on his usual post recording session high, but instead had to settle for him saying we’d get together tomorrow.

With mom’s backup harmonising assistance, dad’s friend’s song “It’s Always Too Late” got finally got completed although dad felt if we added some strings to it, the song could sound even better. Now that was a problem because neither dad nor definitely Jane or even Michael, (who’d been taught how to play by dad) could play the violin very well. Dad was able to convince me and mom however that when Tank Jeffries turned up tomorrow (he’d already been booked into several weeks prior), he’d get him to record the violin parts dad wanted.

The following day (Monday) at school after a series of harrowing class tests in most of my major subjects, I simply wanted my after lunch classes to be as easy as possible, which thankfully they were. When I got home, it was to be told that Tank Jeffries wouldn’t play the violin music for dad because dad refused to give him the name of the artist he was playing it for. In the end dad told me he’d ring around a few of his pals and get one of them to play the music whenever they found the time, although I had an idea and said that Debbie might be able to possibly play it or else I could try asking Michele/Micky who although a much better violin player, meant it would mean letting another person in on both secrets, which I could see dad wasn’t too keen about.

The following day, Tuesday, I asked Debbie and she excitedly agreed after being told her why, but I made her swear to not saying anything about it to the other Band girls. She asked when she’d be needed and with a quick phone call to dad to see which evening he’d have free, told Debbie Thursday afternoon and I’d (mom) would arrange for tea. Normally a professional muso could turn up, record one song and be gone in a little under 30 minutes, but I expected (wisely as it turned out) Debbie to take considerably longer.

When the pair of us got home on Thursday, we had to wait for dad to finish up a recording before he came back up and collected us to go record the incidental violin music. Obviously Debbie wasn’t a violin virtuoso and dad had to endure a number of false start takes even after Debbie had practiced the music she had to play for almost an hour. She didn’t seem to understand what dad was trying to explain to her and it finally took dad playing violin badly but with the correct tempo and changes in volume, before Debbie finally began to understand how she was meant to play the music. When dad was definitely satisfied that Debbie had played the music entirely to his satisfaction and it had been recorded and saved, he called it quits for the night and led us all back into the kitchen where we finally got to eat tea (almost three hours later than expected). Debbie was more than a bit disappointed that dad wasn’t going to do the final mix till tomorrow, but he promised her I’d give her a copy of the final recording as soon as I had a copy myself.

When dad and me got together to do the final mix on “Friday” evening (he’d gotten involved in other things till then), I could now understand why he wanted the additional string variations. Courtesy of the mixing console, Debbie’s lone violin playing now sounded like a full string section and made the music sound much “fuller” and punchier in the areas of the song dad wanted. I was over the moon with how the song sounded on the final take and hoped that C.M.R thought the same.

We made a copy of “It Always Too Late” for me to give to Mr. Carmichael because “Stay Awhile” definitely had a good following at school according to student requests Mr. Carmichael had informed me of. Sadly it seemed to be more among the female students than the guys. Although I’d been told I could simply hand over a disk or stick of “It Always Too Late” to Mr. Carmichael, dad still made me write down all the recording details the same as for “Stay Awhile”, telling me we were still using my non de plume name and I would also need to add Debbie’s name as an accredited musician performer, in-case the new song went hot and C.M.R took over promoting it. He also told me to do the same for the resume disk I was to give to Mr. Carmichael for exactly the same reasoning, although C.M.R. had already been given a copy of my resume disk music.

Debbie was that excited when I handed over her copy of “It’s Always Too Late” I just hoped she’d keep her word and not tell anybody about it. She came up to me later on very upset. Apparently she thought that dad had ended up not using her violin playing. It took a lot of persuading including a phone conversation with my father for her to accept it was her violin music we used on the song. That night I spent the better part of an hour rerecording her solo violin playing before painstakingly adding the various tweaks that dad had done. What had initially been almost three minutes of solo violin ended up thirty three minutes of music as I recorded the additional voice each time to prove it to her. I handed it to her at school the following day and explained what the disk was. She came up to me the day after and told me she had no idea you could do that, even though I reminded her about the personal tape from our Sunday practice.

Dad express posted a copy of “It’s Always Too late” along with a heavily bubble wrapped fifth of bourbon to his friend. He also couriered only a copy of “It’s Always Too late” to Rick Daring at C.M.R stating this was the first of the five songs he’d recorded for Jane Seymour under her EOI with C.M.R and told me we’d probably here more in a few weeks time.

Meanwhile Jane had school to think about because of “one” poor class test result that saw me getting a B-, which my mathematics teacher Mr Cox felt warranted a letter to my parents. Mom and dad spoke to me about the letter, which after I’d explained the reason for the poor result, they also believed wasn’t necessary but said if they received another in any subject I’d be looking at serious restrictions and left it at that. Still I had to return the letter signed by both parents to be placed in my student file and permanent record. I intended blowing up Mr Cox’s car in retaliation!

Mom was forever reminding me (both when I’d been Michael and now as Jane) I should never get angry with my friends just because of one mistake. I suppose in the light of day it “had been” putting my friends under a little too much pressure with their other friends. The girl I thought most likely to have said something inadvertently, Debbie, wasn’t the culprit however. Actually it was Carmen that saw me missing the school bus home (and needing to phone mom to come and pick me up) to answer Mr. Carmichael’s questions.

A week after handing Mr. Cox back his letter with my parent’s signature in the marked spot, it was during Band rehearsal that Jerome/Jerry Potts, perhaps fed up with the mistakes Mr. Carmichael was critiquing the Band about, stood up and turned around to ask “me” how I would play the piece of music (a new one) we were rehearsing. I tried shrugging my shoulders as if to say “I wouldn’t know” which only made Jerry state he already knew about my musical talent, saying he’d listened to Anne’s tape about the Band girls private practice session done at my place. Anne was looking straight ahead although a quick look saw Debbie’s, Anne’s and Maree’s faces looking pointedly at hers furious at her breaching the Pinkie promise.

Mr. Carmichael well aware of my musical ability and about my preference for anonymity couldn’t allow Jerry’s distracting behavior or question to remain unanswered. When Jerry then asked the class why should I only be able teach my friends how to play better and no one else in the Band, although he personally was actually a good coronet player (he’d also seemed to have forgotten about Barry and his drums). Nerves or embarrassment at being publicly called out like this prevented me from answering him. When he finally said in exasperation “that’s right, why not do what you always seem to do, just stand there looking pretty and act dumb for everyone”, which I wasn’t sure whether to be angry about or be flattered at just being called pretty by a guy.

Fortunately Mr. Carmichael finally interrupted (perhaps too late, but at least he seemed to be trying to restore order and prevent any further damage from being done) as he loudly ordered Jerry to sit down and shut up. He then calmed down enough to ask Jerry to follow him outside then turning to the class and stated we all remain seated in our places and be silent for a few minutes. After they’d left the room and were standing outside clearly visible to everyone, most of the class had turned around to look at me curiously expectant. That was of course except for my four girlfriends (well three at least) as Barry looked up to me and said one word “well?” Luckily I didn’t have to reply as Mr. Carmichael’s voice called out for me to come outside.

Once I had the three of us spent about two minutes outside discussing matters (well me mainly defending my actions) before Jerry was ordered back inside by Mr. Carmichael. Then he and I spoke to one another for a brief time with him explaining what he was going to do and finally getting me to reluctantly agree to it. When the two of us re-entered the Music room has asked me to take my normal place before looking towards the class for silence.

“Thanks to Mr Potts in the brass section along with certain other parties (making it obvious he meant Carmen) it appears Miss Seymour’s wish for her personal privacy can no longer be allowed to continue. I already knew about Jane’s musical talent after speaking with her uncle recently and I think this group may have got an idea when she showed Barry how to play the drums better. But what only a few of you might have known till today’s class is that Jane is very well trained in playing a considerable number of musical instruments, and that her parents have a recording studio business that they operate from home”. Everybody’s face was directly looking at me now."

“Personally as well as for the Band’s ability to improve its playing, I was hoping to try to find some way to get Jane more involved. I also hope that Jane will accept my thanks in advance and perhaps explain some ways to make the school band perform better”. He paused momentarily before adding ”Jane any tips on how we can improve the Band?”

Since I'd already agreed outside, I decided to talk about the three P’s which Mr. Carmichael interrupted just quick enough to say the words “practice, practice, practice Band members”. I asked Anne (of all people) for her tape (which of course she had to have) and after asking for permission from Mr. Carmichael went and placed it in the Room’s CD player, before continuing to speak.

I then began a step by step demonstration first by showing them how Carmen used to sound playing the Trombone. Of course every recognized the music as the first piece of music we had all practiced this term and everyone laughed. By the end of my talk and with the disk’s recorded evidence, which I also made Carmen play her Trombone again as proof, I had everyone’s attention, especially when I told them about how long it took Carmen to improve her Trombone playing.

Waiting a moment for everyone to finish whispering to the person next to them, I explained that with the correct use of a recording studio’s mixing console’s slides and buttons, five musicians could sound exceptional and proceed to play the wall of sound dad had created of the girl’s playing as a souvenir of the session. Mr. Carmichael’s astonished but happy amazement at hearing the same music piece remastered extensively had him take over from me and say if he hadn’t heard it for himself he’d have never believed it. He then asked for everyone to give me a round of applause, before saying I could now return back to behind my Xylophone.

Of course he asked for questions, which most of the band members were still too amazed to offer. Jerry did however, stating he knew all about the three P’s because his Coronet teacher had told him that at his first lesson. Sarcastically he theoretically asked me if my parents would allow the entire band to come to my place to practice like my girlfriends had. Before I could respond Mr. Carmichael interrupted and told Jerry to stop trying to be so smarmy and that a half day private practice could be arranged for a Saturday at the school football field or inside the music room if it was raining, which made for a lot of loud groans. Thankfully the school’s final bell sounded to prevent any further carrying on.

Not unexpectedly on the bus trip home the back two rows of seats on the bus on both sides were occupied by Band students all wanting to know more about my music background. When I got home mom and I talked about what had happened today in Band, which I then had to repeat to dad later.

Around 8pm a knock on the door found Carmen timidly hiding behind both her parents while they tried to explain to mom about why they were here. Mom as always invited people in so as not to leave them on the doorstep, while ordering me to go make some coffee and tea for our guests. An hour later along with lot of tears from Anne saw my parents and me watch Carmen and her parent’s car drive off. My parents then had a short talk to me about friendships, peer pressure and so forth till we agreed it was better to try and forget about what had happened today and that tomorrow was new day.

The next day at school I was handed a note in Mr. Morris’ Science class requiring me to see Mr. Carmichael at lunch break in his office (along with something to eat). There, he again apologized for yesterday and said he had an idea he wanted to try out in Band (with my cooperation of course), which after a bit of strategy and tactics planning I nodded my head in acquiesce……..it seemed Mr. Carmichael wanted help in making make the school band popular! So where does one start first?

I “may” be a bit late posting the next chapter. I don’t have Land Cruiser Virus but have had my cataracts operation (No NOT Cats On A Rack) pushed up to next Monday. D major is penned but nowhere near edited and finalized.