Page 37 of Take My Place

I don’t like to mention the way she’d treated me when our Houses declared war on each other. Milly seemed to only remember things when they were convenient for her. I supposed that if I had grown up in this messed up place, I’d probably develop a selective memory too.

Mr Pilkington came up to stand behind us. “Excellent work, girls,” he says. I think your parents will be very impressed with what you’ve done. Impressed enough to get out their cheque books and donate generously. Yes, you’ve done a very good job indeed.”

“Thanks, Mr Pilkington.” Milly beams. “I might not be as talented as some people, but I like to think I can still contribute.” She cast a proud glance my way.

“I understand you’re helping out with the front of house as well, Milly?” he asks.

She nods.

“Wonderful! That’s just the kind of school spirit I like to see. Remember to sell as many raffle tickets as you can. Every little bit helps!”

He strides off, leaving Milly and me alone again.

“I guess I’d better go and tune my guitar,” I say. “It’s not long before the show’s due to start.”

“Okay. I need to go and sit out front anyway,” Milly says. “Parents will start to arrive soon so I need to make sure the complimentary glasses of champagne are ready and waiting. Catch you later!”

She wiggles her fingers at me to say goodbye and heads off to take her place checking tickets. I turn and walk up the little steps to the stage. Heading behind the curtains, I go offstage and out to the corridors that lead to the music room where I’d left my guitar.

The room is empty, which is just what I need to clear my head. Helping Milly allowed me to forget my nerves for a while, but what I hadn't told her is that I suffered from crippling stage fright. While I’d been telling the truth when I said I didn't want to give my father anything to boast about, the real reason why I didn’t want to perform is that I hated singing in front of an audience. I know it’s something I have to get over, but I’d always preferred recording my material or performing it on YouTube. Online, potentially millions might discover me, but from a performance perspective it is just me on my own in a room with a camera. I could pretend nobody would ever see me and to be fair, so far, not many people have. Tonight, I am going to be singing in front of hundreds of strangers and the thought makes me want to hurl.

Although I haven't seen him yet today, Declan’s guitar case is propped up next to mine. Seeing it there gives me a little reassurance I’m not going to be alone on stage.

I take my guitar out of its case and tune it. Once it’s ready, I strum a few chords to make sure it is properly in tune. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the instrument’s rich tone. There is something to be said for playing a good quality guitar.

I make a couple small adjustments and then pick out one of my favourite classical pieces. Katy insisted I take a few lessons once she saw how keen I was of music. I didn’t last long. I much preferred playing my own material, and figuring out for myself how my favourite musicians did what they did. There are a few pieces I learned that I really love, and they were a good warm up before I start playing.

I close my eyes, enjoying the sound I’m making as my fingers dance over the strings. When I’m done, I am surprised by the sound of someone clapping. I look up to see Romy standing in the doorway.

“How long have you been listening?” I ask.

“I’ve been here a while,” Romy says. “I saw you going into the practice room so I followed. I know you need time to get yourself together before a performance, so I figured I’d let you have a few moments alone before I came to wish you luck. Not that you’re going to need it. I know how hard you’ve been practising. You’re going to steal the show.”

“I’m not performing on my own,” I remind him. “Declan and I are doing a duet, remember?”

“No one’s going to be listening to him.” Romy waves away the mention of my music partner. “All eyes–and ears–are going to be on you. I’m so proud to be able to call you my fiancée. I’m a lucky man to have someone as talented as you.”

He comes over and kisses me, my guitar forcing him to lean forward awkwardly to reach me where I’m sitting.

“This isn’t going to work.”He took my guitar out of my hands and put it to one side.

“That’s better.” He cups my face in his hands and kisses me. His tongue flicks between my lips and I instinctively open my legs to let him get closer.

I put my arms around him and hold him to me. He runs his hand over my hair tenderly. It’s one of those sweet romantic gestures that makes me think he really does have feelings for me and isn’t just going through the motions for the sake of a political marriage.

“A-hem.”

We’re interrupted by someone coughing. We break apart and I glance over to see Declan standing in the doorway. I blush at being caught like this. We were in the room where Declan and I had been intimate and I still felt guilty. Although not guilty enough to tell Romy what happened…

“Sorry to come between you two lovebirds,” he says. “But Ivy and I need to start getting ready for the show.”

“Of course.” Romy kisses me one last time as if to mark his territory.

“Be as awesome as you always are,” he whispers to me before leaving to take his seat out front with his family. Performance isn’t his thing.

“Do you want to run through our song one more time?” Declan asks.

“Nah.” I shake my head. “We’ve practised it enough and I feel too sick to sing right now.”

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