Chapter 13 #2
Not that I wanted to draw her fire, but I’d rather play a piece I loved.
Ivor and Topaz looked at Donovan.
He raised his head from his slouch at the piano.
“Really? I have to play arbitrator again? Fine. We can do that or we can choose an easy Mozart quartet. Even her ladyship will be able to learn one of those.” He threw a smirk my way.
“Vote, people. Mine, which will keep the professor sweet, or the little lady rebel’s, which shits on the classics. ”
Ivor sniffed and fiddled with his clarinet. “Mozart.”
“Mozart. Sorry, Ella.” Topaz shrugged.
“Done. Ivor, choose a piece and email a first pass at how we can divide it up.” Donovan stood and stretched his arms behind his back. “Ella, I’ll walk you up the road.”
He stalked off, and I looked at Ivor. “I’ll help with working out the piece.”
Ivor sniffed. “I’d be most grateful. Thank you.”
Stowing away my violin and bow, I turned to Topaz. “You coming?” She lived two floors down from me in Halls.
“Nope. Got a date. Have fun with Donovan.” She made big eyes, and I pulled a face, then followed our mercurial pianist outside.
Donovan waited at the street door. Night had fallen, and the yellow streetlights cast shadows over his features.
Where Ivor wasn’t my fan, and Topaz was fun, if flaky, Donovan was one to watch. Depending on his mood, he either played the asshole, tearing casual strips off people—mainly me—with his nicknames and sarcasm, or, he was intensely quiet, ignoring people and missing practice once or twice.
He’d also asked me out.
I’d said no, and he’d covered it up by saying he’d meant drinks for the group. That sounded fun, but one-on-one? Not with him.
I started the walk back to my dorm—five minutes from the practice hall through Manchester’s Castlefield district. Filled with canals, bars, and old, imposing buildings, it was a bustling part of town.
Except for this deserted back street.
Donovan moved, too, though keeping a step ahead of me.
“Did you want to talk to me about something? I’ve got a call I need to make,” I said, telling a partial truth. I had a video chat planned with the twins tonight, but not for an hour.
“These pieces you keep bringing up, from films and whatever, is that where you want to work? A musician for hire, schlepping up to studios?”
“Not exactly.”
He glanced back but kept moving, maintaining his position just ahead of me on the pavement. “Then what’s the big plan?”
I shrugged. “I’m working on it.”
“You know the pay for session musicians is shit. And no one would know your name. And, to be honest, you aren’t all that hot. I mean, you’re not bad, but in a competitive environment? Nah. Who’s going to hire a young girl? Fancy name or not.”
“In my version, I’m the one doing the hiring,” I snapped. Why I’d just told him that, I didn’t know, but I was sick of being the outsider in the group. The one who hadn’t been classically trained and didn’t covet an orchestra seat.
Except I did. My own orchestra.
In the past weeks, through talking to older students, I’d increased my knowledge about music practice and theory, and I’d had some thoughts on my business idea.
I’d need access to a large pool of musicians, plus space to record and practice.
And in my head, I’d become more of a writer/manager than a performer, which made sense the more I thought about it.
I had so many buzzing ideas for pieces of music but I couldn’t do it all.
I’d hire conductors, technicians, producers.
From his inside jacket pocket, Donovan took out a packet of cigarettes, lit one, then offered it to me.
“I’ll pass.” I waved him off, wrinkling my nose. No to the death stick and double no to the fact it had been on his lips.
“Sorry, your ladyship. You know, you have a real stick up your arse.” He blew a plume of smoke into my face.
“God!” I coughed and stopped walking.
“I’m only messing with you. Don’t be so uptight.”
Yeah, because I was the unreasonable one here.
“Is there something you want?” I said, my tone short.
We’d reached a lane. Still, there was no one around, no cars passed on the wet road, and there were no lights in the tall buildings around us. I even hoped for Ivor to come up, blustering about something else I didn’t know.
But no. We were alone.
I shivered in my coat and raised my shoulders. Donovan smiled around his cigarette, but it wasn’t a kind expression.
“I’m going to The Griffin,” he said, naming a local student bar that I’d been to once or twice with Topaz.
“Yeah? And I’m going home. Like I said, phone call.” I stared him down, suddenly aware of how much smaller I was than him. No man had ever truly intimidated me before, other than my uncle. The new feeling had me shrinking away.
Donovan snorted, then he tore his cigarette from his mouth and tossed it to the ground, a flare of sparks catching in the breeze.
Something showed in his eyes. Frustration, maybe.
It looked closer to dislike.
“Whatever. Take care on the way home, princess,” he called and strode away.
Unnerved, I fast-walked the rest of the way home, returning to an empty room, Jessica, my roommate, absent. I was freaked out, cold, and wanting comfort.
After a thirty-second shower in the communal bathroom, I dressed in sweatpants then dragged Gordain’s hoodie over my head. I’d kept it, and hidden it from my brother, and though I was about to talk to the twins, there was no way they could identify it on a screen.
I sat on my narrow bed, pulled my sleeves over my hands, then raised the material to my face. It still smelled of him. Just.
And I was the saddest loser around.
My phone buzzed and I jumped. Taylor’s name appeared on the screen.
We’d spoken more and more in the past weeks, rebuilding our friendship.
“Ella, are you sitting down?” On the screen, she danced around, bright sunshine at her back. “I’m calling from sunny LA, but ask me where I’ll be on the first weekend in December.”
I sat up more. “Where?”
“England! London, more specifically. Can you travel? I want to meet up. We can go to a club, Christmas shop, sightsee together.”
My heart leapt, as that was exactly what I needed.
A friend intervention. Except I had a prior engagement.
“I’d love to, but there’s one small problem.
Actually, two large blond problems. The twins are coming to Manchester to see me.
That Friday is end of term, and they’re coming to see me perform. ”
James and Beth had wanted to come, but my sister-in-law’s pregnancy hadn’t gotten any easier on her, and they couldn’t stray far from home. Somehow, the twins had found out, probably through Callum, and they’d made the arrangements to come see me so I wouldn’t be alone.
Taylor gave an easy shrug, her white bikini strap bold against her tanned bare shoulder. “Then I’ll come to you. It won’t be a hardship seeing Wasp again.”
And with that, I had an exciting plan on the horizon.
With my failure, so far, to find my wings at school, with the weird exchange with Donovan earlier, I needed friends more than ever before.
There was only one person whose presence would make it perfect, but I doubted he’d want to be within a hundred miles of me.