we can’t decide just now. You are each capable of being our soloist, so just keep practising and we’ll let you know before midsummer night.”
Zoe burst out, “That’s not fair! You can’t keep us waiting!”
Helen was afraid to nod, but she agreed with Zoe.
Dr Lermontov laughed uncomfortably. “It’s all part of learning to be great musicians, I’m afraid. Not just disappointment, like those behind you who didn’t even get the chance, but also uncertainty, like the three of you will suffer until the Professor makes up her mind.”
So, thought Helen, he’s already made up his mind who was best. Not me, probably, because I don’t concentrate on theory. Helen shrugged. There was no point trying to read adults’ minds. It was harder than trying to outwit faeries.
Professor Greenhill patted Zoe on the shoulder. “What a great problem for me to have! So many wonderful fiddlers!” She gave all three possible soloists a small neat smile, then wafted out of the barn on her shiny green heels.
Zoe turned to Helen and hissed, “I said the solo spot was mine. How dare you play so well!”
Helen grinned. “That wasn’t me playing well. That was me playing like my little sister, to give you a chance!”
Zoe glared at her. Helen stepped quickly into the safety of the rest of the students, several of whom whispered that she had played the other two out of the barn and it was a disgrace she hadn’t been chosen.
Dr Lermontov tapped his dusty toes sharply on the barn floor to get everyone’s attention. “It’s nearly teatime, so I’m afraid the woodwind and percussion players will have to wait until tomorrow for their solo competitions. Why don’t you all go and clean your instruments before eating.”
Then he bent down to clean his own shoes with a spotty red hankie. Helen thought the Professor must have found a swept bit of floor in the far corner, leaving her deputy standing in the rubble, because the Professor’s shoes had been pristine as she teetered out of the barn.
Helen ate a pleasant tea in a very unpleasant atmosphere . Zoe wanted everyone to agree it was unfair she hadn’t been chosen as the soloist. The students at their table tried to soothe her by agreeing it was stressful not to know, but they wouldn’t comment on who should have been chosen.
Zoe wouldn’t take a hint. “They’re not going to choose a snotty little kid! She only played half decently because she copied everything I did. They probably didn’t pick me straight away because they were worried she would throw a toddler tantrum.”
Juliet finally said, “Shut up, Zoe. Helen might be a snotty-nosed kid, but she’s handling the strain of top level playing much better than you are.”
Zoe shoved her chair back and stomped out of the dining room. Now everyone at the table stared at Helen.
Juliet said, “Sorry. I don’t mean you’re a snottynosed kid. I just mean … for someone so young …”
Catriona, the piper who slept in the fifth bed in Murray Wing, said, “After pudding, do you want to watch a DVD with us, in one of the boys’ wings?”
Helen looked round at the faces smiling at her. She didn’t know if they wanted to be her friends because she was a good fiddler, because she wasn’tZoe, or because they actually liked her. Whatever their reason, she couldn’t stay any longer.
“Sorry. I’d love to, but I need to get some fresh air.”
Catriona shrugged. “Fair enough.” The teenagers started to chat among themselves.
Helen left the dining room through the door into Murray Wing. As she reached the top of the stairs, she heard sobbing from along the corridor. From Zoe’s room. Helen sighed and opened her own bedroom door.
She packed everything she’d found today into her pockets and the rucksack, and walked back down the stairs. She wasn’t sneaking away, because the others knew she was going for a walk, but a green rucksack with a white cross on it might be hard to explain, so she headed for the
Zoe burst out, “That’s not fair! You can’t keep us waiting!”
Helen was afraid to nod, but she agreed with Zoe.
Dr Lermontov laughed uncomfortably. “It’s all part of learning to be great musicians, I’m afraid. Not just disappointment, like those behind you who didn’t even get the chance, but also uncertainty, like the three of you will suffer until the Professor makes up her mind.”
So, thought Helen, he’s already made up his mind who was best. Not me, probably, because I don’t concentrate on theory. Helen shrugged. There was no point trying to read adults’ minds. It was harder than trying to outwit faeries.
Professor Greenhill patted Zoe on the shoulder. “What a great problem for me to have! So many wonderful fiddlers!” She gave all three possible soloists a small neat smile, then wafted out of the barn on her shiny green heels.
Zoe turned to Helen and hissed, “I said the solo spot was mine. How dare you play so well!”
Helen grinned. “That wasn’t me playing well. That was me playing like my little sister, to give you a chance!”
Zoe glared at her. Helen stepped quickly into the safety of the rest of the students, several of whom whispered that she had played the other two out of the barn and it was a disgrace she hadn’t been chosen.
Dr Lermontov tapped his dusty toes sharply on the barn floor to get everyone’s attention. “It’s nearly teatime, so I’m afraid the woodwind and percussion players will have to wait until tomorrow for their solo competitions. Why don’t you all go and clean your instruments before eating.”
Then he bent down to clean his own shoes with a spotty red hankie. Helen thought the Professor must have found a swept bit of floor in the far corner, leaving her deputy standing in the rubble, because the Professor’s shoes had been pristine as she teetered out of the barn.
Helen ate a pleasant tea in a very unpleasant atmosphere . Zoe wanted everyone to agree it was unfair she hadn’t been chosen as the soloist. The students at their table tried to soothe her by agreeing it was stressful not to know, but they wouldn’t comment on who should have been chosen.
Zoe wouldn’t take a hint. “They’re not going to choose a snotty little kid! She only played half decently because she copied everything I did. They probably didn’t pick me straight away because they were worried she would throw a toddler tantrum.”
Juliet finally said, “Shut up, Zoe. Helen might be a snotty-nosed kid, but she’s handling the strain of top level playing much better than you are.”
Zoe shoved her chair back and stomped out of the dining room. Now everyone at the table stared at Helen.
Juliet said, “Sorry. I don’t mean you’re a snottynosed kid. I just mean … for someone so young …”
Catriona, the piper who slept in the fifth bed in Murray Wing, said, “After pudding, do you want to watch a DVD with us, in one of the boys’ wings?”
Helen looked round at the faces smiling at her. She didn’t know if they wanted to be her friends because she was a good fiddler, because she wasn’tZoe, or because they actually liked her. Whatever their reason, she couldn’t stay any longer.
“Sorry. I’d love to, but I need to get some fresh air.”
Catriona shrugged. “Fair enough.” The teenagers started to chat among themselves.
Helen left the dining room through the door into Murray Wing. As she reached the top of the stairs, she heard sobbing from along the corridor. From Zoe’s room. Helen sighed and opened her own bedroom door.
She packed everything she’d found today into her pockets and the rucksack, and walked back down the stairs. She wasn’t sneaking away, because the others knew she was going for a walk, but a green rucksack with a white cross on it might be hard to explain, so she headed for the
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