Page 143 of Crescendo

“And in collaboration with another student at the programme,” the director continued, and my brain stalled—nobody had mentioned another student being involved, “whose name might be familiar to some of you.”

“Congrats, sweetheart,” Dad whispered, even more smug than before.

A name that was familiar. A student from Crescendo.Lydia.

Shewasalready in the building.

“We’re delighted to have, as guest conductor for this piece, Lydia Howard Fox,” the director announced, and the room exploded—my heart along with it.

She was here.She was here?Conducting? When had she arranged that?Howhad she arranged that?

Clara’s eyes were still glued to me as she laughed and cheered, the rest of our group whooping in joy and surprise.

She hadn’t even told anyone she was coming?

I glanced at my dads. She’d told them.

Tears streamed down my face but I didn’t care. I’d clean them later.

Lydia Howard Fox was walking out on the stage, looking even more beautiful than I remembered in her gorgeous suit. I didn’t have to do this without her. She was part of the piece. So much of it was for her, because of her, and she was part of it.

As I watched her take a bow, I realised she’d done the perfect thing. Of course she had. Who else could have conducted that piece?

She turned to the orchestra and took her position, baton at the ready, and she looked like she’d be born to conduct.

The room was unbelievably quiet, hanging, waiting, and then… all of a sudden… Lydia moved and notes I’d written flooded the space.

I cried, blinked furiously to clear my eyes and hold her in my vision, and my mind filled with a whirlwind of memories: Lydia finding me staring at that clarinet on the first day, her hand on my thigh under a table, the way she held me when I sobbed, crossing the river with her, losing her, finding her again. The pieceachedfor her and the clarinets soared—shesoared.

Nobody else in the world could have madeAcross the Riversound so perfect, so much like it belonged there, at the Royal Albert Hall.

Not one part of me had really comprehended how this moment would feel, what it was like to hear a real, full orchestra running through my piece. It was so much richer and more beautiful than the version I’d put together in a DAW. My insides felt simultaneously like they were buzzing and melting into goop.

As Lydia took the orchestra into the final movement, I realised she’d done it, our promise. Our names together in music, forever. Whatever I managed in composing, the first performance of one of my pieces would always be Lydia’s major conducting debut, and that was going to last forever, just like she would, just like her music would.

Just like my love for her would.

The piece finished and rapturous applause filled the space. Most of it was for her, of course, but some of it was for the piece. They liked it. I’d composed something worthy of the Royal Albert Hall. My fingers found the tiny pendant around my neck. A disc with the letterC. Together, we’d made it here. Our dads were sobbing with pride, my friends were cheering, grinning—crying, in Bansi’s case—and congratulating me. This whole thing was so much better for having them all be part of it.

Lydia took her bows, smiling like her soul had been set on fire—the exact way she always deserved to look.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her.Perfectwasn’t a strong enough word to describe her.

She shook hands and shared a few, private words with Cynthia Altman before leaving the stage.

Papa leaned over, clapping a hand to my knee. “The piece wasincredible!”

“So, so wonderful,” Dad agreed, wiping his eyes with his free hand. “You were made for this space.”

Papa grinned proudly. “Now, go get your girl.”

I glanced at the others, all of them beaming and nodding at me, squeezed Dad’s hand one more time, grabbed my phone, and threw myself from the hall.

I was pretty sure they preferred you not to leave or enter in the middle of a performance, but I managed to squeeze out of the room just before Cynthia got into position, so I hoped they’d forgive me.

Where are you?I hurriedly sent to Lydia.

I’d willingly run across the entire building to find her but I was pretty sure there were spacesTheLydia Howard Fox got to see that I didn’t—especially when she was one of their conductors.

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