Cardington Crescent - Anne Perry [12]
After the sweet, with nothing left on the table but vanilla ice, raspberry water and a little fruit, Tassie said something about a soirée she had been to, and how bored she had been, which earned her a look of disgust from her grandmother. It struck a sudden chord of memory in Emily. She looked across at Jack Radley with a tiny smile.
“They can be fearful,” she agreed. “On the other hand, they can also be superb.”
Tassie, who was on the same side of the table and could not see Emily’s face, was unaware of her mood. “This was a large soprano singing rather badly,” she explained. “And so terribly serious.”
“So was the best one I’ve ever been to.” Emily felt the memory sharper in her mind as the scene came back to her. “Charlotte and I once took Mama. It was marvelous ...”
“Indeed?” Mrs. March said coldly. “I had no idea you were musical.”
Emily continued to keep a sweet expression, ignoring the implication, and stared straight at Jack Radley. With a stinging pleasure she knew that she had his attention as deeply as she would like to have had George’s, and with precisely the same nature of excitement.
“Go on!” he urged. “Whatever can be marvelous about an overweight soprano singing earnestly and badly?”
William shivered. Like Tassie, he was thin and sensitive, with vividly red hair, although his was darker and his features sharper, etched with an inner pain that had not yet touched her.
Emily recounted it exactly as it had been. “She was a large lady, very ardent, with a pink face. Her gown was beaded and fringed practically everywhere, so that it shivered when she moved. Miss Arbuthnot was playing the pianoforte for her. She was very thin, and wearing black. They huddled together for several minutes over the music, and then the soprano came forward and announced that she would sing ‘Home Sweet Home,’ which as you know is heavy and extremely sentimental. Afterwards, to cheer us up, she would give us Yum-Yum’s delightful, lighthearted song from The Mikado, ‘Three Little Maids.’ “
“Much better,” Tassie agreed. “That goes along at a lovely pace. Although she hardly sounds like my idea of Yum-Yum.” And she hummed a bar or two cheerfully.
“‘Marvelous’ is overstating it rather a lot,” Eustace said critically. “Good song ruined.”
Emily ignored him. “She faced us all,” she continued, “composed her features into lines of deep emotion, and began slowly and very solemnly with a blast of sentiment—only the piano bounded away with the trills and twitters of a rollicking rhythm!”
Only Jack Radley’s face registered understanding.
“‘Be it ever so hu-u-mble,’” Emily mimicked sonorously, at once savage and doleful.
“Da-di-di-dum-dum, da da dee-ee,” Jack sang with delight.
“Oh no!” Tassie’s eyes lit with joy, and she started to giggle. Sybilla joined in, and even Eustace smiled in spite of himself.
“They trailed off, scarlet-faced,” Emily said enthusiastically. “The soprano stammered her apologies, wheeled round, and charged to the piano, where Miss Arbuthnot was fumbling wildly through sheets of music, scattering them to the floor. They gathered them all up, muttering fiercely together and wagging their fingers at each other, while we all sat and tried to pretend we had not really noticed. Nobody said anything, and Charlotte and I dared not look at each other in case we lost control. Finally they came to some agreement, new music was set up on the piano, and the soprano advanced purposefully to the front of the floor again and faced us. She took an enormous breath, her beads jangled at her throat and all but broke, and with tremendous aplomb she began a spirited rendition: ‘Three Little Maids from school are we, filled to the brim with girlish glee’ ...” She hesitated a moment, staring straight into Jack Radley’s dark blue eyes. “Unfortunately Miss Arbuthnot was crashing out the ponderous chords of ‘Home, Sweet Home,’ with a look of intense longing on her face.”
This time even the old lady’s mouth twitched. Tassie was helpless with giggles, and everyone else