Eartha's Performance

Eartha wasn’t sure she could do it. She had never performed in front of a live audience before. It had always been just her and the music. The crowd on the other side of the curtain loomed large and massive, a thousand blurry faces.

She fidgeted in the wings, a little anxious. What if her fingers turned into knots and she forgot all the notes? She did know them. She did remember where they were and in what order they went and what came next. She had practiced them enough in rehearsals. But on the stage, it was different. What if she couldn’t do it? The Conservatoire had been so kind to her. She didn’t want to let them down. On the piano by the ocean, she had just played the music. It had been improvised, a spur of the moment thing. She hadn’t worried about getting the notes wrong or what others would think of the piece, or ruining the whole evening with her mistakes. It hadn’t mattered. She wished she didn’t have to go on first. It was just making everything worse. For a moment, she wondered if it was too late to pull out, say she didn’t want to do it. She fidgeted with the sheet music, rolling the corners in and out, wrinkling the paper beyond repair.

“It’ll be alright, Eartha” Mr Bradley said kindly. He stood beside her, waiting for the curtain call as the five minutes bell rang. 

“What if I can’t do it? What they don’t like it? “she asked, anxiously, still rolling the corners of the pages. She looked at him, focusing on his bright blue tie that was dotted with music notes as she tried to calm herself down. Colours still dazzled her with their beauty, ever since she had got the new glasses. Before the glasses, they had been faded, almost invisible. She hadn’t even been able to see the leaves on the trees or the words on pages or far away signs that everyone else saw. But now, they were there, in front of her, glimmering in splendour. The tie waved in the wind, as bright as the sky. He had joked it was his “lucky Gala tie” in the dress rehearsal, making her laugh. He was always so good to her. He had taken her on, when everyone else had dismissed her for not being able to see properly. She didn’t want to let him down either.

“Now you listen to me. You are wonderful. I know you don’t see it. But I do. You are one of the best pianists I have ever taught.” Eartha frowned at him. “I mean it” he continued, with a smile that rippled across his face like one of those fluffy clouds on a summer’s day.

”And as for them not liking it, well, of course they’re going to like it. When you play your piano, it is as if you croon melodies from heaven. Your music is beautiful, like nothing I have heard before, with its own magic and wonder. They’re going to love it. I just know they will. And if they don’t like it, so what? The door is over there” he waved an arm into the distance. Eartha stared at him, amazed by his words. He was always so kind to her. She wasn’t sure why. But in moments like this, she was glad he was.

“You can do this. I wouldn’t make you do it if I thought you couldn’t.”

Eartha chewed her lip, still unsure. But if Mr Bradley believed in her, maybe she could do it. The last bell rang as the curtain began to rise.

“Will you guide me there? “she whispered, nervous. What if she walked into something or went the wrong way?

“Of course, I will. “he said softly. Eartha picked up her stick as Mr Bradley offered his arm. Together, they walked across the stage, her white stick rolling as she found her way.

On the other side of the stage, she saw the grand piano. Its friendly figure was comforting, the white wood shining like the moon. The lid sat open, waiting for her, its stool welcoming her like an old friend. The black and white keys glimmered like jewels, the only things she ever saw clearly. They called her name, welcoming and beckoning her fumbling feet forward.

Mr Bradley guided her across the stage, over smooth wooden planks and colourful dots that marked spots on the floor. The rest of the orchestra stood empty, chairs waiting to be filled with friends. They would arrive later, after she had started the evening off with her music. The semicircle rings would be filled with their smiles, their bringing instruments that resounded with beautiful songs and shone with bright colours. The ribbons of gold, silver and black would glimmer in the candlelight and orchestra lamps, filling the stage with wonder. Eartha winced as she walked into one chair on the outer ring, the flute section tripping her up. She hoped nobody saw that. Only Mr Bradley seemed to notice, steering her away from walking into his conductor stand in the middle.

The audience didn’t seem to notice, continuing to applaud with claps that resounded like thunder. Finally, she made it across to where she needed to be. Her stick leaned against the piano legs as Mr Bradley strolled back to the middle of the stage. Eartha placed the music on the stand as he began to introduce the event.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to the Midwinter Gala of the Orkishan Conservatoire of Music. “Beside the piano, Eartha felt calmer. It was always her safe place, never more so than now. Her fingers caressed the keys, their smooth surfaces familiar under her skin.

“This year marks ten years since the first Gala. And so, we plan to celebrate it in style. We’ve got a wonderful evening of music ahead for you, full of some of our favourite pieces from the last decade and some newer arrangements that we hope that you will enjoy. There will be short interval in the middle of the evening, where drinks and refreshments will be served in the Central Hall. As usual, the fire exits are at the back and the two side doors” his arms waved into the distance again, into the faded horizon that Eartha couldn’t see.

“Afterwards, two of our students will stand by the back door with buckets and collect donations. All proceeds will go towards the Conservatoire main organ, choir stalls and kneelers, which are in need of urgent repairs. We would greatly appreciate your donations, so we can continue to hold our annual Solstice Services and perform our lovely music next year, before the organ strings finally snap.” Mr Bradley announced to the audience as they laughed, voices bubbling like raspberry lemonade.

“Now, first up, we have Eartha Kiracksen, one of our newer students, playing a piece that she calls Moonlight Music.” He said, beaming. The applause echoed like thunder once again as Mr Bradley’s fuzzy figure walked away to the wings. It was time.

Around her, the audience rustled and fidgeted, whispers and murmurs echoing. It was as if they were almost as nervous as she was.

Eartha froze, her mind forgetting all the notes in an instant. The pause stretched, as she tried to remember the music in front of her. Her fingers fumbled for the chord, discordant notes echoing. It was the wrong one. She winced at the sound. She took a few shaking breaths as the audience muttered and mumbled.

Eartha took the music off the stand and brought it closer to her, searching for the right notes. Mr Bradley had said no one would mind if she did that. As she did, the large glasses slipped down her face, too heavy with the new prescription lenses to stay on her nose for too long. Nervously, she pushed them back into place with a finger. With the new glasses, things became sharper, if only by a small amount. Now she saw the music, even if it was a little blurry.

With horror, she realised it was the wrong piece. She didn’t have the right music. Her heart pounded in terror. What was she going to do? She thought she had picked up the right one, with the blue page marker. But this one was yellow, as bright as the sun. Now she had done it. “You always ruin everything, Eartha” her fathers voice whispered in her head, old memories of beatings bubbling to the surface. She shut her eyes, trying to think of something else. For a moment, she worried if he was in the audience. But Mr Bradley had banned him from coming. She was safe, beside the piano. She was always safe from her father there, hidden in a cocoon of music, that always protected her.  

She breathed in and out, forgetting the worries for a moment. She remembered playing by the sea, thinking of its sound of its tides that breathed in and out. She thought of the scent of salt on her tongue and the sound of the singing seagulls. She thought of the old white piano, calm and serene by the ocean. She let it consume her, until there was nothing left but silence as the waves washed her anxieties away[SO1] . It was something Mr Bradley had taught her. It was a performance trick he had passed onto her in one of his tutorials. And right now, she was glad he had. She knew the audience waited around her. But they could wait a moment longer, while she tried to find her senses.

She would just have to play something else. The music in front of her was for the duet with William later. It wouldn’t do for now. It would have to be a solo. She racked her brains as the pause stretched even further. All the pieces she had ever learnt streamed into her mind, recalling sections and movements from lessons. But none of them seemed right.

Eartha smiled as inspiration struck her. it was a fragment of a tune, a reel that she had thought of yesterday. It was just an idea, something that had blossomed in her mind as she was walking through the park to the rehearsal that morning. But it was something. And it was good. She knew it was, she could feel it. Perhaps the audience would like it.

The new piece she had thought of tugged at her heart, yearning to be played. Her soul pleaded to hear its voice. Her fingers dreamt of feeling its soft touch under her skin. And why not? Eartha began to play the tune, letting the triplets and dotted minims lead her forward into the unknown. The treble clef crooned, its notes soft as the waves of the sea, dancing gently against the mellow bass chords that echoed from the depths. The audience faded into the mist as the melody took her hand and led her far away, into her own little world full of life and colour and magic and wonder. And for a moment, nothing else mattered. She thought of the Merrow dancing on the beach. With a smile, she dared to play it faster, repeating the swirling melody at a quicker tempo. The piano followed her lead, its voice growing louder and bolder as she coaxed the dynamics from their shy cases. The merry bass chords jigged across the keyboard. The treble clef notes skipped as they danced in harmony. The music seeped into her soul, consuming her from head to toe, filling her with that feeling that was like no other the melody reached new heights and dared to dabble with grace notes and trills beyond the skies. She smiled, the joyful major chords and fast flowing semiquavers filling her soul with sunshine, so much that it nearly bubbled out of her. She followed the music, nearing the end of the piece. She descended with the notes, the diminuendo making her return to reality. Gradually, the notes slowed their fast reel, out of breath, unable to dance any longer. But that was alright. There was always another time, another piece, another solo to play. And the notes would always be there, waiting for her. 

For a moment, there was silence. One breath of peace. Before the audience erupted into noise, even louder than before. Eartha started, almost jumping in shock. She had forgotten they were even there. The audience clapped and roared and bellowed their approval. She squinted. Some of them were even standing. She couldn’t believe it. Someone was shouting “Bravo!” and “Encore!”, their voice almost lost in the cacophony, But Eartha heard them. Her ears had always been better than her eyes.

Eartha beamed, hardly daring to believe she had done it. A feeling of pure elation filled her, as if she was on top of the world. They had liked her music after all.