Chapter 2 – The Concert

By quarter to eight the community centre was bustling with people and more than three quarters of the seats were taken. Herve was virtually running around checking that everything was in order; making sure there were some extra chairs in the store room that could be brought out at the last minute if needed, making sure that the sound engineer was ready and had a set list to work with, asked the ticket sellers how many had been sold so far, then finished up helping Claire deal with the increasing number of orders behind the bar.

At a table in the middle of the room sat Siobhan and her father, Detective Inspector Jack Mooney.

'So how did you get talking to this young man?' Jack asked his daughter.

'He arrived at Catherine's straight from the airport with tonight's singer and I was left to entertain him while Catherine brought Heather here' she explained.

'Well just remember he is a tourist and will only be here for two weeks. Sounds like he's a good bit older than you too. Don't get your hopes up…'

'Dad!'

'Just saying!'

'Anyway, who are you looking for?' Siobhan asked, noticing her dad was watching all the scores of people coming in the door.

'Nobody in particular, pet. When you're in the police you can't help people watching, I'm used to reading people and anticipating their moves'

'I see…' she said with a puzzled look'

'For example, the young lady over there was looking nervously round the room before joining the man there. That tells me they're not meant to be seen together!'

'Clever!'

'That community centre manager, Herve I think his name is, he seems really tense this evening, more than you'd expect for someone experienced in organising events like this. He's either sold too many tickets or he has a fancy for the singer'

'Is he a womaniser?'

'I don't know, I haven't really spoken to him. Then there's the young man that's just come in. Looking all around him, very nervous and lost, touching his hair, a bit vain maybe? Or perhaps he's meeting someone, a first date maybe, not sure if she's here yet…'

'George!' called Siobhan, and the same young man her father was speaking about smiled and made his way over to their table. Jack swallowed and prayed George had not heard him.

'Hello again!' George greeted Siobhan' 'Good evening Sir' she held out his hand to greet her father.

'Pleased to meet you, George? replied Jack.

'Yes, it's an honour to meet you too Inspector Mooney'

'You can call me Jack, lad!' he said, impressed with George's courtesy. 'Have a seat, the show's about to begin'

A bell was ringing as Herve finished serving his last customer. He checked the shelves and the fridge to make sure there were enough drinks before saying to Claire

'It's time. Can you manage the latecomers?'

'Sure, no problem' Claire answered nervously.

Herve quickly made his way backstage where Heather was standing waiting with her guitar, taking deep breaths to control her nerves. 'Ready?' he asked

'Ready' confirmed Heather.

Herve proceeded to walk on to the stage and thanked everyone for coming. 'As you know we have a special treat tonight. All the way from Scotland, please welcome Heather Munro!' There was enthusiastic Caribbean applause as Heather walked on to the stage.

'Good evening' said Heather when the applause subsided. 'I'm delighted to be here on your beautiful island to entertain you. I will start by singing an old bothy ballad, which is a song sung by farm workers who lived together in very small houses, practically just huts, a few centuries ago. It is in a dialect called Doric which is spoken in the north-east of Scotland. It's called 'Band O' Shearers''

She struck up a chord and began to sing;

Summer days and heather bells are blooming on yon high, high hills

There's yella corn in a' the fields, then autumn brings the shearin'…

Gemma and Patrick appeared at the door to the main hall holding drinks. Patrick whispered to Gemma 'Don't worry, it'll be fine, you'll see. She won't sing it…'

'But she was learning it!' Gemma whispered more loudly with apprehension in her voice 'and she'll announce who it was by…'

'Honestly, you've nothing to worry about. She knows what'll happen if she tells anyone'

'All the same I won't be able to relax until I've heard the whole set and know for sure…'

'OK well let's just try to act normal and go in before she sees us' Patrick ushered Gemma to a table at the back of the room.

There was applause as Heather finished her first song.

'Gosh, she's good!' George quietly remarked to Siobhan and Jack.

'What a voice!' agreed Jack.

'I wish I could sing' sighed Siobhan.

'I tried to teach you some Irish ballads but you weren't interested!' Jack remonstrated and Siobhan playfully slapped him.

'Thank you, and now for a song penned by Scottish singer songwriter Eddie Henderson in the 1980s about the miners' strike' Heather continued. Later in the set Heather announced 'and now for one of my own songs which is about your history'. The audience gasped in anticipation. Herve stood up from his chair at the back of the hall. 'It was inspired by reading about your former Prime Minister Jeanne Richard and the adversities she faced during her time of office at the hand of Jacques Etienne and his party, and celebrates her vision for a better future for the island' She began to sing

Welcome to paradise, we hope that your stay is nice

That is what they call this land, in virtue of the sun and sea and sand

But if this was paradise…

The audience were transfixed and didn't notice the couple at the back table whispering and Herve getting up and walking out of the room looking very agitated. He spoke a few words to Claire, who gave him a puzzled look, before walking outside for some fresh air. The song was well received by the remainder of the audience as was the rest of the set. Heather honoured them with not one but two encores before Herve announced that the show was well and truly over. By this time it was 11pm but since it was Saturday night people were not in a hurry to get home. Several people stayed for one more drink before making their way home or to a bar, and Heather was constantly surrounded by people thanking her for a lovely evening and complimenting her on her fantastic voice and song writing ability. She sold around 30 CDs and even more people signed up to her mailing list.

By midnight there were only a dozen people left in the hall, including George and the Mooneys. By this time Jack was in the middle of a long conversation with Heather about Scottish and Irish traditions and they each shared two or three songs the other hadn't heard before. George and Siobhan were chatting away about places they had visited and the different kinds of music they liked. Herve and the centre staff were clearing away the tables and chairs that had been vacated and Claire was busy collecting empty glasses and returning them to the bar for washing. Gemma and Patrick were still sitting in their corner having yet another drink.

'Well, I think it's time Cinderella and I got home!' decided Jack.

'Aww, already?!' moaned Siobhan.

'What do you mean already? It's after midnight and you're helping Catherine with Sunday lunches tomorrow!'

'I guess' she decided and regretfully got up and put on her cardigan. 'Are you going back to the hostel now George?'

'I think I'll have one more drink first, the door is open 'til one!'

'Why not, you're on holiday!' agreed Jack.

'Well, it's been a pleasure spending the evening with you both' said George. 'I hope we will meet again?'

'Sure. I'll be in Catherine's again from ten 'til six tomorrow so feel free to come by!' suggested Siobhan.

'OK. Probably see you tomorrow then!' he agreed and they all said goodnight.

'Right, last orders at the bar!' announced Herve. 'Time to lock the doors' he added to Claire and she bolted the front door, preventing anyone coming in. She would have to leave the bar to open the latch to let the last remaining staff and audience members out. Gemma rushed to the bar to get one last drink for her and Patrick, while Patrick himself took the opportunity to speak to Heather now that she was alone packing up her guitar on the stage.

'Psst Heather!' he said quietly, and she looked around apprehensively.

'What do you want?' she said without smiling.

'Just a promise that you haven't told anyone…'

'I told you before what you need to do. It's not my place…'

'Cos you know what'll happen if you have!'

'Good night Patrick!' she almost shouted going backstage. Patrick shook his head and almost staggered back to his table to enjoy his final drink. 'And what are you looking at?' he yelled at George, who had been watching him.

'Just making sure my new friend was being treated with respect!' he answered boldly.

'Bah!' Patrick staggered off, not sober enough to continue an argument.

'OK, time ladies and gentlemen please!' shouted Herve, fading the light switch twice as an indication that it was time to drink up. George went through to the bar to return his glass before leaving. 'Is it my imagination or did the background music just get louder?' he remarked to Claire.

'Can't say I noticed. Perhaps it just seems like it because there are less people around talking?' she suggested.

'Hmm, maybe!' he thought.

'Hey, where are you going? That's the stage door!' Claire shouted at Patrick who was about to enter.

'Sorry lass, looking for the gents!' he turned round, clearly very drunk.

'Over there!' Claire pointed at the correct door.

'Oh…thank you!' he staggered in the right direction.

'I don't envy you this job! Do you often get people in a state like that?' George asked Claire.

'We get one every couple of weeks, more in the summer, usually tourists!'

'Yes, I can imagine!' he laughed.

At that moment Herve came into the bar. 'Claire, go backstage and see if Heather is ready to go!' he ordered.

'Well goodnight' she said to George.

'Goodnight' George replied, returning to the hall to collect his jacket. Only Gemma remained in the hall and he was surprised to see she was wandering around.

'Not as good as our music – you'll see tomorrow at the square!' she said drunkenly to him.

'I've heard worse!' he stated and she shook her head. They were both shaken by a scream coming from the dressing room. They both ran up onto the stage and round the back and were joined by Herve and Patrick who had run in from the stage door. Claire was standing at the dressing room door shaking, tears rolling down her cheeks. The others looked past her and got the fright of their lives when they saw Heather lying lifeless on the floor beside the coffee table, blood dripping from a point on her head.