Taste of Victory by Sandra Dengler

Author:Sandra Dengler [Sandra Dengler]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781441262561
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2012-11-18T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Recitative on Love and Handel

“A————men.” Pause; watch the conductor. “A—men. A—men.”

Silence.

Applause erupted. “Bravos” shot like firecrackers all over the hall. The hubbub ignited Linnet’s cheeks and heart together. Why did she always blush when applauded? Chris said it was one of the most charming things about her. But she found it excruciatingly embarrassing.

Although Handel mounted the first performance of his Messiah in Linnet’s own Dublin, she had never before heard it performed. Chopping out the various parts for practice, much less the constant rabbit-like starts and stops of rehearsals, in no way came close to this awesome full performance.

The tenor took her hand in his and led her forward for a bow. She dipped in a curtsy until the lights blinded her. She stepped back with one arm raised and could not contain the grin on her face. From the darkness in the wings—from nowhere—a page thrust a huge bouquet into her arms. Chris had rehearsed her about this, though at the time she did not believe it would ever happen. She plucked a rose from her bouquet and handed it to the tenor.

Continuous applause. Another bow. And more…

There stood Chris beside the orchestra piano, barely visible in the gloom beyond the lights, beaming at her and clapping. She could make out no one else in the orchestra—only Chris.

Finally they left the stage, returned once more to applause, then left for good.

Mr. Giambone, the voluminous tenor, kissed her hand before releasing it. “My dear, you saw it through like a seasoned trooper. I must admit I worried a bit, learning this was your first Messiah performance, solo or chorus. You’ve a wonderful gift. I was pleased to sing with you.”

She curtsied. “I’m honored, sir. Y’re so…y’re very…Sure’n I’m honored. Thank ye, sir.” This professional singer, brought over from Sydney for the occasion, was praising her! What a glorious, wonderful night!

Guli Hack, an acre of hat perched on her head, loomed beside Linnet. Almost manly with those dark eyebrows and firm jaw, her face looked nearly ready to smile. Not quite. “You did well, Miss Connolly. I knew you would. Tomorrow remind me: we’ll work on your apoggiaturas. You got quite sloppy with them in How Beautiful Are the Feet.” She handed Linnet a check.

“Thank ye, mum.” Linnet curtsied.

The dark face eyed her gravely. “Miss Connolly, I—yes, I will say it. You should know, or perhaps you do already. You are no student. I believe you realize that. You are bound to fail your examinations in everything save your music, and in that you excel. Did you not excel, you would have been dismissed from the program weeks ago. We’re keeping you simply because we want the university’s name associated with your musical training.”

From behind her Chris spoke. Linnet hadn’t seen him approach. “Does that mean, Miss Hack, that you and the other decision-makers in this brain factory think she’s going to achieve a name for herself?”

“If she doesn’t do something foolish, like marry or become involved with some man so as to give up her career.

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