Chapter 13

Allan grinned. “That’s my girl. Make sure you take something to help you sleep tonight and tomorrow will be a good day. I’ll arrange for a nanny to come to the house this afternoon to look after Ali, to give you a little bit of free time.”

The nanny turned up at four and immediately took control, making me feel like a kid again as she figured out what Ali needed and also what I needed. I showed her where things were in the kitchen and she made me a light meal, gave me two tablets with a glass of water and sent me off to bed, after I had shown her the spare room. I had to admit that I was pretty drained, and I didn’t take long before the pills worked, and I was asleep.

The next morning, she woke me. I showered and dressed. She had already fed and dressed Ali. My breakfast was put in front of me.

I was told that I had better finish it by the time she had given Ali a push around the farm. I didn’t think I was hungry but ravaged the food, and couple of cups of coffee before she got back, telling me that it was a lovely place with a lot of lovely people. Lovely people, she assured me, who all worried about me and my state of mind.

I made the effort, went into my bathroom, and brushed my teeth, then carefully made myself up. Ready to face the world, I went out to reassure the workers that it may have been the end of the world yesterday, but today was a new beginning.

I went back into the house and led the nanny out to the studio to show her where I’d be working. While we were there, the other Pixies started to arrive.

Emily and Pet were incensed, having known Josie for a long time. Pet said that Josie tended to be someone always on the look-out for herself in the early days, but she had thought that her time with me had changed things.

When Joyce and Abigail arrived, we had a meeting to decide what songs we could do as a five-piece and who would sing and play which instrument, the last directed mainly at me. Emily said that she had been playing around with an electronic drummer when she played at home and had brought it with her. If one uses one of those you have to program the beat first, then you’re limited to playing the songs as programmed. We worked out a batch of songs that would fill out the middle of the set.

I would play electric piano with Abigail doing the duets with me, having already played like this while Josie stayed off stage. We would then move into a longer set of Stable Sisters music with Pet added on her violin, Emily on the keyboard, and me picking up a guitar.

The last part of the set was Pixie music, with the same line-up and me picking up my violin, as needed. We then started working through the set until the nanny stopped us to say that she had lunch ready for us all.

We stopped for lunch, and I thanked the nanny. She told me that she was just happy to be in the same room as the Pixies. The other girls gave Ali a bit of attention. I told the nanny to come back to the studio where she could sit in the control room with Ali and watch us work through the set.

We started back at the beginning and worked, non-stop, until we reached the end. I thought that our closing Devil sounded a little weak, but with a hall full of yelling fans and the volume at eleven it would probably work. Perhaps it may be time to retire that one. Whenever I looked out into the control room, I could see both the nanny and Ali with big smiles.

The other four left after arranging to come out again the following afternoon. As their cars left the farm another arrived. It was Allan.

He surprised me by going up to the nanny and giving her a kiss, “How did it work out, darling? I see the rest have come and gone.”

That’s when I found out that the ‘nanny’ was actually his wife, Helen, a registered nurse, and a secret fan of ours. Over a meal, I found out that Helen and Allan had been married for over twenty years and that she had been one of his nurses in Afghanistan, when he was in the hospital recovering from his wounds. She had rotated home on the same flight with him and had stayed with him during his recovery.

Although she was a fan, she had never been to any of our shows or other events because she, like poor Janet, had anxiety in crowds, so today had been extra special for her.

She was, to my surprise, also my godmother and had stood with Allan at my christening.

“And that,” she said. “Brings us to another matter, my girl. What are you going to do about little Ali? Allan tells me that she is named but not christened. Because you never married Josie, the naming is entirely your call.”

That was another thing that I had left up to Josie. I said that I would think about it. Allan stayed with Helen overnight and I had a good, and natural, sleep, only getting up a couple of times to see to Ali. Once again, I had been pulled through to the other side of a crisis. Allan had tried a couple of times to contact my parents, but they were out of range or having too much fun.

Allan stayed with me, planning out the rest of the year as Helen took his car and went off. She was back before lunch bringing Chinese take-out for us all, as well as another lady.

This, I was told, was Doris, a registered nanny, a friend of Helen from the Afghanistan times and now an employee of mine. We had the meal and Doris was made known to Ali. Before the others arrived, we moved all of my stuff from my bedroom into the stable and Doris took her bag out of the car and settled into the bedroom. I was told not to worry, but to concentrate on my core business, the music.

As I hung away my outfits, I made peace with myself, vowing to do well and give Alicia the best childhood I could, with the help and care of others who loved us. After the rest of the group arrived, Allan gave us all a pep talk before he and Helen left.

Doris sat in the control room with Ali, who was already smiling. We went through the whole set again, then added a few more, in case we needed an encore, and then loaded up the van with our instruments.

The venues now always supplied amps and PA when we played. The van would sit in the airport car park while we were away. We were booked in Boston and had spent the last couple of days with the primary goal of giving the fans a good time.

That night I went back to my old hide-away. But, with all the redecorating, it wasn’t the same as before. I became determined to forget Josie -- other than the good times. She had got around before I knew her, and no doubt would get around again.

It bothered me that she had wanted my baby. But then I thought that maybe, just maybe, she had thought that having our baby would give her contentment, and remain with me, no matter that I was fast becoming a woman. I guess that her need for sex overpowered her desire to nest. I wasn’t happy that she had been carrying on with Dave and then realized that the whole thing must have been hatched when we were down at the Grammies.

The next day Alicia came to the farm with Brad. She held me and cried a bit, making me weepy as well. She said that she was sorry that her daughter had not reformed. “She’s still the tramp she was as a teenager.”

I told her not to worry, introduced her to Doris, and told her that little Ali was going to be well looked after. I assured her that she and Brad were welcome to visit us anytime. I also told her that we had a christening to arrange, but that I would have to organize it around what Allan had booked.

Alicia and Ali went for a stroll around the farm. Brad took me over to the three sheds.

“Edie,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about the second shed and the upgrade. With what we learned from the first it should only take a few more weeks to get operational. Now, the third shed is something else again. I know that you and Josie worked out that two sheds would give you a good turnover. My pals love the produce you supply so would be happy to take extra. I’ve done a little survey in the area, and I have discovered that there isn’t a good vet for miles, other than one who is nearly at retirement age and looking for a new face to take over his practice.”

“My boy, Jordan, will be into his third year and has to find somewhere to have work experience. My proposition to you is that we move the remaining chickens to the rear of the third shed until they are ready to be trucked off. I will then, at no cost to you, convert the front of the shed into a vet clinic, offices, and treatment rooms. The old vet will be happy to relocate as his lease is coming up next year and it would allow him to carry on beyond retirement, without any worries. His wife is his receptionist, and he says they wouldn’t have a problem coming here.”

I nodded. “You seem to have it all thought out. I’m happy with that plan. You just have to convince my dad. It’s still his property, after all. I suppose that once the chickens have gone, we can use the back part as holding pens for any animals that need to stay.”

We shook on that, and he got his tape measure out and went off to start his planning.

My folks would be surprised about a lot of things when they got back from their cruise.

Leaving Ali in the capable hands of Doris, I drove the van to the airport on Friday afternoon where the others were waiting to unload their instruments. After I had parked the van and joined them in the airport first class lounge, Pet showed me an email which she had received.

It invited her to meet with the orchestra that had offered her a position a year or more ago -- and to bring me with her. We were to meet them Saturday morning. They offered to pick us up from the hotel and return us in good time to get ready for the show. I looked up from the paper see her smile.

“I’ve accepted the invitation. I just wonder what they want of us. It’ll be lovely to meet the people I might have been playing second fiddle to.”

Our flight was good, and the hotel couldn’t have been better. After breakfast we made ourselves ready and went down to the lobby to meet our ride. At the allotted hour, a chauffeur came into the lobby, went to reception, and was pointed in our direction. He came over, gave a little bow, “Ladies, I’m Geoffrey, driver to Lady Grove. I’m here to take you to the concert hall.”

We followed him out to a gleaming Rolls Royce. He settled us into the back seat.

I couldn’t help noticing that there were people looking at us and pointing us out to their companions.

We were driven, in some style, to the hall, which would have been Pet’s workplace for the last year had she taken them up on their offer. Inside we were greeted by what looked like the full orchestra. We then met Lady Grove, she told us, straight off, that she was known as Kelly in this hall and nothing else.

She got straight to the point, looking at Pet. “You, young lady, should have been playing serious music with us for a year by now. However, you did, I think, make the right decision to play with the Pixies. I was sent a short video of you doing Danse Macabre and one with the pair of you doing what looked like an improvisation of a Paganini piece -- which was very impressive.”

“I’ve asked you to come here because I’m planning next year’s concert series and I want to put on a double violin performance. I thought we could play Mozart with the Concerto in C Major to fill the first half, and then Bach with the Concerto in D Minor for the second half. Then we can finish with Bach and the Aria Number 5 as an encore. Do you know any of these?”

Pet had heard, and played along with, the first two. She had played the Aria 5 with the school of music. I admitted that I knew the pieces, but my only classical playing, up until we had done the Danse Macabre, had been alone in my home.

“You’ve never played in front of an audience!” Kelly exclaimed.

Pet told her that I had been the ultimate wallflower, until I met the Pixies.

Someone produced two very good violins. We were asked if we could do the encore piece to reassure the rest of the orchestra that we were the real deal, if we agreed to her offer.

Pet gave me a wink, as we tuned up.

We went to stand facing each other. The orchestra all took their places and I had to suppress a giggle seeing them all in jeans and casual outfits instead of the usual tails and long dresses.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered anxiously.

Pet hissed back. “Just read the music and lose yourself in it. You’ll be all right.”

With the First Violin as leader, we got ready to play. If you’ve never heard of Aria Number 5 you would have known the piece by the more familiar name, “Sheep may Safely Graze.” It’s a lovely piece of music. The first notes started, and I was transported to my little studio where I used to play along to recordings.

Classical music is one third being able to follow the sheet music and two thirds the memory of the playing. As instructed, I lost myself in the piece and was almost sad as we finished, only opening my eyes, after some seconds of silence, to find the orchestra standing to applaud.

I looked at Kelly. “Was that all right?”

She broke into a big grin and told us we were magnificent, as if we had played the piece a dozen times a year.

She asked if we knew anything else.

“Josie told me that Edie had played her a violin version of The Swan,” Pet said.

Kelly asked me if I could do it now. She and Pet stood back as I closed my eyes and played.

It sounds mournful as a cello piece -- but much happier on the violin. About halfway through I could hear the first cello joining in quietly as if he couldn’t help himself. At the end I stood and there were audible gasps as everyone started breathing again, just as Josie had done when I played it to her. The orchestra applauded politely.

The cello player rested his instrument and came over to me and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Bravo, young lady. You are a star in many ways. That was magnificent.”

Kelly beamed, “It certainly was, Antonio. When she gives up the pop world, there’s another here for her with the likes of us. I’ve heard your piano playing and I think you’re exceptional with that as well. Could you grace us with a sample?”

I looked at the concert grand and my heart skipped a beat. I sat before the most magnificent piano I had ever seen.

Kelly pointed to the sheet music on the stand. “This music is what we came in today to run through. We have a concert next Friday and Saturday night with a great pianist.”

Another voice said. “Only in his own mind -- he has flash, I give him that -- but he doesn’t have the feel for the music. I just heard The Swan as I was coming in, who was that playing?”

Antonio stood up. “Maestro, this lovely young lady had us all entranced. I think she may surprise us on the piano. She has music in her blood.”

“Maestro” looked at me. “We’re just about to run through the Warsaw Concerto followed by the Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto Number 1, which we’ll be playing next weekend. Do you think that you can play enough to allow us to run through them? That will allow me to conduct from the rostrum, rather than the piano.”

I nodded. “I’ve played them a few times on my old upright at home, while listening to a recording. I’ve never played a classical piano piece live, though. I hope I don’t mess it up.”

He looked sternly at me and then smiled. “If your piano is as good as your violin, I don’t think I’ll be unhappy.”

I made myself comfortable.

He went up on the rostrum and the rest of the orchestra tuned to my middle C. He then took up his baton, stood for a few seconds, and then started the first piece.

The Warsaw features a sudden opening. The first chords exploding in a wall of sound. Once I got going, I went into another world and played as if my whole world was encapsulated in that terrible time that the music depicted. Every now and then I glanced at the conductor who had a very serious look on his face as he followed the music book. For a player you just follow your music, but a conductor has everyone’s music in front of him.

There were short periods where I didn’t play. I took that opportunity to flip the music over to the next point where the piano comes in. I also looked at the orchestra with wonder. Little old me -- playing a concert grand in front of a renowned orchestra with a well -known conductor leading us.

I had sometimes imagined a similar scene when I used to play these pieces alone at home. I looked to one side and saw a group of people with Kelly and Pet in the stalls. I then needed to get back in the saddle.

The entire piece lasted less than ten minutes. I concentrated again and we went along to the glorious finale. As we played the last chord and allowed it to fade slowly a collective sigh came from the orchestra. The conductor got down from his rostrum, pulled me from the piano stool and gave me a huge hug.

Applause rolled from those in the stalls. I felt like I had just run a couple of miles. The level of concentration for the classics is much more that you need in a pop concert.

I asked for some water, and someone was sent for a glass, which I drank at as if I had just trekked out of the desert.

The conductor turned to Kelly. “Where have you been hiding this young lady, Kelly? She is magnificent! I’ve hardly heard the Warsaw played with that level of feeling. Can we keep her?”

Kelly told him that we were only talking about next year and the double violin concert.

I then got the music for the First in front of me and the conductor got the orchestra ready and then nodded to me to lead off.

The First is a longer piece, about forty minutes. I was bathed in sweat when we finished. After a brief session of hugs and thanks, Pet said that we had to get back to the hotel, as we might be needed before the show tonight.

The conductor asked what orchestra we were in front of, and gasped when told that we were in the Pixies, a lowly pop group.

“It’s a pity we can’t get tickets,” Kelly said. “It would be fun to see.”

Pet pulled out her phone, called the venue, asked for the ticket office, and found that they had a batch of ten seats that were normally held back for the band. She asked them to save them under the name “Kelly” at will-call.

She advised Kelly to dress casually and take a taxi, rather than her Rolls.

Before we left there were a number of younger orchestra members gave us hugs and told us that they would also be in the audience tonight.

We gave Kelly Allan’s business card, telling her that she should contact him to discuss dates that Pet and I could play for them. Geoffrey took us back to the hotel.

When we got back, we were in time to see Allan arrive for the show. We told him where we’d been and that someone may be in touch. We then had a late lunch, joined the others being pampered in the hotel spa, and then went off for our usual light dinner that we found worked best before a show.

In our dressing room our dressers did their thing, our make-up artist, ably helped by Emily, transformed us into rock divas. We could hear the pretty good opening act. When they finished, we psyched ourselves for the first performance of our new look.

“Girls,” Emily said. “We’re going up to give the fans the best show we can. Who are we?”

We all cried. “We’re the Pixies” and had a group hug.

I sat at the piano, with Abigail standing alongside me as the curtain went up. The usual roar lessened as I started playing, and we started singing.

I noticed Kelly, the conductor, and a bunch of other people in the front row and hoped that our show wasn’t too down-market for them.

As we moved through the set, I went from piano to guitar. Finally, Pet and I vied to be the best fiddler, as Emily and Joyce laid down a solid beat and Abigail gave it her all.

We stopped. A roar came from the crowd and then the shout of Devil which seemed to be a standing order. It took about fifteen minutes before the Devil had been driven off and we stood across the stage to take our bows as the curtains closed.

“That showed ‘em,” Pet commented. “There’s no keeping the Pixies down.”

I was very tired, but also happy. I had come through a trial this week. The Pixies had worked hard to come out on the other side and still wow the fans. My baby is being well cared for at home. I’ve many good things to look forward to. Life, today, is back to being good.

Marianne Gregory © 2022