I was a little late getting this chapter up. Sowwy! I hope you enjoy it. Keep reviewing... you know I love 'em.

Chapter 9

The news about the concert was perhaps the biggest boost I could have asked for. I left my Music class feeling ecstatic to the point where I wanted to hug everyone that went past me. But I eventually settled on a more restrained approach... although Richard and Meg could tell something was up as soon as they saw me from the grin plastered on my face.

"That's great!" Richard exclaimed when I told them the news, squeezing me tightly. He looked almost as happy as I was. "Lucky break for you!"

"Not so lucky for Charlotte," I pointed out, suddenly feeling a little guilty that we were all so happy about my good luck when it was really down to her quite serious illness.

"Oh, come on," Meg said, rolling her eyes and laughing. "It's not as if it's your fault she got sick."

I nodded, but my excitement was still slightly dampened by the knowledge that my good luck was someone else's misfortune. I forced myself to smile at my friends to hide my worry though, and decided to concentrate on the upcoming concert. Even if I was only a replacement, I wanted to do well. In fact I wanted to do well because I was a replacement. So I threw myself into the last minute rehearsals, and by the evening I was almost bubbling over with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

As the start of the concert drew near, the performers all gathered backstage. The singers had all done their warms ups, and the other musicians were giving their instruments final tests and tune ups before they were told to be quiet. Everyone was wearing a white shirt with either a black skirt of black trousers. It was like watching a collection of musical waiters and waitresses.

I twirled my fingers through my hair anxiously.

"Don't panic," Meg said. She had rushed backstage at the last minute to wish me good luck before taking her seat.

"I'm not panicking… just nearly dying from nervousness."

She giggled quietly at me, then realised the lights in the hall had been turned off. With a rushed 'good luck' hug, she hurried away and I watched her disappear around the side of the building. Inside, the concert began... and even though my song did not come until towards the end of the program, I caught myself chewing nervously on my bottom lip, wondering if I had warmed up enough... whether I needed a sip of water... or whether I should just make a run for it.

I mentally slapped myself. I was being stupid… it wasn't as though I'd never done anything like this before. Why was this time any different?

But it was different. Somehow… for some reason I couldn't fathom… it was different.

The various other musical acts rushed on, and all too quickly I heard the announcement I had been waiting for.

"The next act in the program is The Jewel Song from the well-known opera Faust." The man announcing the piece exaggerated his foreign pronunciation and only succeeded in deepening my feelings of nervousness. "Unfortunately, Miss Charlotte Mason is ill tonight, and unable to perform. However, in her place, we are very happy to present Miss Christine Day."

There was a smattering of polite applause, and I felt someone nudge me in the back to propel me forward and onto the stage. I could practically feel the colour draining from my cheeks and the energy being sucked from my limbs as I made my way to the centre of the stage and looked out of the audience which, from my new position, seemed a lot bigger and more threatening than it had a few seconds ago.

Why am I feeling like this? I thought desperately. Why do I feel like I can't breathe? More importantly… how can I get the opening trill right if I can't even breathe?

Desperately, I looked around me, seeking something that she might be able to take comfort from. Meg… Richard… they were lost in the sea of faces stretching out before me. I strained my eyes for a second to look at the exit right at the back, and stopped. Standing right there, leaning back against the wooden panelling, was Erik. He was mostly wreathed in shadows, but I still recognized his tall, lean frame.

Erik was here... giving me his support.

The opening notes were struck... I had a few seconds to turn my mind back to the previous night, when no one was there to listen to me except Erik, when I had lost myself in the beauty of his playing... and then I opened my mouth...

When my sense of awareness returned, it was to the sound of applause. Rapturous applause. I stared around me, not quite sure whether I should believe what my eyes were telling me. Were people really standing up? Was this deafening sound really being made in admiration for my performance? Feeling a little dazed, I curtsied, and the colour returned to my cheeks in a rush when the clapping increased. Glancing over at the pianist, who was almost applauding me as well, I received a small encouragement to curtsy again and did so, aware of the smile that was plastered across my face.

Finally, as I moved off the stage, I stole a brief glance at the back to try and see Erik again. But the shadow leaning back in the darkness had vanished, and I could only hope that he would hang around afterwards so I might get a chance to speak to him… thank him… and… I wasn't sure what else.

Once off stage, I was practically engulfed by the swarming members of the school band and various other performers. They hugged me, congratulated me… but I was barely given enough time to get over the rush of euphoria before I was spun around and sent back onstage for the group singing. Those songs and the applause that followed went by in a blur and I was still on such a high afterwards that I had to go outside for some fresh air. Once there and alone, I leant my head up against the wall and sighed. I'd done it. I'd performed… in front of them, and been well received. Well… perhaps 'well-received' was a slight understatement. I had never expected a response like the one I had just witnessed. In fact, I almost suspected that it had all been in my head, or that they had been applauding someone else. I knew I was good but… the idea that I was that good was overwhelming.

I nearly had a heart attack when someone touched me on the arm. A choked gasp leapt from my throat and I turned to face whoever it was.

"Ahh… Richard!" I was torn between laughter and annoyance as he chuckled evilly at having scared me, then wrapped me up in a warm, strong hug. "Don't scare me like that," I mumbled into his shoulder.

He laughed. "Sorry… I couldn't resist. I had to come back here."

I pulled back and raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh really? And why's that?"

"To tell you you're the most amazing person ever… anywhere…"

I blushed, then forgot my embarrassment as he took my face in both his hands and kissed me more deeply and intensely than I had ever expected him to. After a few moments of mental adjustment I returned the kiss, slipping my arms up around his and holding him tightly.

When we pulled apart I was breathless, and my lips were tingling. I couldn't hold in a shuddering laugh and we both grinned at each other. Over the past few weeks that I had started to believe that this was more than a flash-in-the-pan relationship, born out of our friendship as children and the repressed feelings I had once felt for him. Maybe there was something here that would really last.

But while this idea excited me a little, I was certainly not ready to be too intimate with Richard. It had nothing to do with my feelings about him, it was my lack of experience and nerves that made me wary. So far Richard seemed to have been taking it well enough, letting our relationship develop slowly, but I did worry that his patience might start to run thin someday.

"We should get back inside," I said quietly.

Richard nodded in agreement, but I didn't miss the look of disappointment on his face and winced inwardly.

We sneaked into the back of the hall to watch the school orchestra (the final act of the concert) performing their pieces. We didn't sit down, but leant against the wooden panels. I cast a brief look around, but again I could not see Erik anywhere. I wondered where he had disappeared to.

At the end of the concert everyone, parents, teachers and performers gathered at the back of the hall for drinks and conversation. I was obliged to stay for a little while, if only because people refused to let me get away without giving me a congratulatory hug or handshake.

One of these people in particular surprised me. I had been talking to my music teacher in one corner, listening to her assessment of my performance, when a middle-aged man in a dark suit broke away from his group to stand with us. He was quite tall, though not as tall as Erik, I noted, with a tired looking face that nevertheless managed to appear cheerful. I was quite shocked, therefore, to learn who he was.

"Miss Day?"

I nodded in reply to the newcomer, and he gave me a small smile.

"My name is Dominic Mason, I believe you and my daughter have music together?"

I tried not to let my sudden nervousness show on my face, but I felt my throat go dry as I realised that this man was Charlotte's father and, as I had been told, a school governor. I sincerely hoped he didn't feel any resentment towards me for taking his daughter's place in the concert.

"Oh, yes…" I said, finally remembering my manners and replying to his question. "Charlotte."

"Yes… I wanted to thank you for stepping in at the last moment… and congratulate you on such a fine performance too."

I blushed modestly, but also noted with some relief that Charlotte clearly did not inherit her bitchy attitude from her father. He seemed perfectly nice and friendly. Charlotte probably had the poor man wrapped around her little finger.

"Thank you," and then forced myself to be polite and ask: "How is Charlotte doing?"

Here, the man's expression turned quite serious and upset. "Not too well, I'm afraid. We had her taken to hospital this afternoon, when she didn't appear to be settling down."

"Do they know what the problem is?" my music teacher asked.

"The doctors did some blood tests… apparently they've found some harmful chemicals in her blood. They're quite concerned as to how they got there."

I frowned in a mixture of concern and confusion. "You mean food poisoning or something?"

"No... nothing like that. Otherwise she wouldn't be the only one to have it." He gave a little shrug. "I intend to investigate the matter further."

Beside me, my music teacher made a little sound of amused disbelief. "You're not suggesting someone did this deliberately, are you?"

I watched as the man's face hardened a little, and for the first time saw the slight resemblance to Charlotte... the determination to see this through to the end. It made me want to take a step back and away from him.

"My daughter is lying in a hospital bed," he said grimly. "I will do everything I can to get to the bottom of this matter for her sake. Whether there is any foul play involved remains to be seen…but I won't rule it out as a possibility. When Charlotte is better I'm sure she'll be able to tell us something useful."

At that precise moment someone called out to Mr Mason and, thankfully, he left the two of us alone with a cold 'goodbye'. But I soon parted ways with my music teacher and wandered through the crowd of people looking for someone else to talk to, so I could keep my mind off the worrying thought that there was a possibility that someone had deliberately poisoned Charlotte.

I pulled myself up suddenly and nearly laughed at how ridiculous my thoughts were becoming. Even if that were the case… there would have to be a motive. And while Charlotte was certainly not well liked, I couldn't imagine anyone going that far. I knew I wouldn't… not for a part in a concert. Besides… what did I know about poisoning someone?

I shook my head… who would do something so horrible over something so trivial?

Then, with a certain degree of horror, I remembered that… no. There was no way Erik had anything to do with this. I didn't want to remind myself that he was more than capable of such things…

The evening drew to a close, and I finally made my way back to my room, tired and worn out. I hung up my coat and went to draw my curtains before getting changed, but stopped in surprise. Lying on my windowsill was a rose – long-stemmed and the deepest red I had ever seen. It was surrounded by a spray of tiny white gypsophelia, tied to the stem with a slender piece of black ribbon. I picked it up as though it were some holy relic that might crumble into dust if handled without care. As I did so, a cool draught blew across my knuckles, and I saw that the window was open.

I smiled… knowing who must have left it. But there was no movement in the shadows beyond my window, and finally I gave up looking and turned away, closing the curtains with a tiny smile on my face. Wherever Erik was, he was pleased… and for some reason this knowledge thrilled me more than anything else.

I went to bed with the sound of applause ringing in my ears, and the rose close to me, on my bedside table. In the darkness I stared at the closed bloom, but I didn't sleep for a long time as I tried feverishly to stop myself from remembering… and wondering…

Erik… what did you do?