time for everything. Plus, I need some additional information and Paul might have some background I could use. Two birds with one stone, I think, as I stroll over. What could be more perfect?
‘Hi, Paul,’ I say cheerfully.
Tiffany’s head whips around in disbelief.
‘Hey, Tiff,’ I add. She’s probably been working her way up to this all week.
‘What do you want?’ she barks.
I grin. ‘Same thing you do.’ Paul raises his eyebrows. ‘Oh, I doubt it,’ he says.
‘She was just telling me how she’s having trouble with Figure 83 onwards and could she have some after- hours, one-on-one coaching. I just told her to follow your lead.
I don’t think she was very happy with my suggestion.’ I frown, flipping quickly in my head through the score I’ve memorised note for note, word for word, until I reach Figure 83. It begins the last section of the piece that snowballs into the screaming finish — soloists, orchestra, offstage brass, duelling choirs all competing to see who can make the most noise. Paul’s right. Tiffany and I sing a lot of that section together on the same notes and I’ve never seen any sign of a struggle. There’s no way she wouldn’t already be note perfect in her quest to always go one higher, faster, better than her arch frenemy.
My expression clears. ‘We could run through it now, together?’ I suggest sweetly. ‘It would be no trouble, Tiff. I’ve got plenty of time.’ Tiffany’s mouth falls open for a moment at having her bluff publicly called. ‘Ooh!’ she huffs, shutting her score with a snap and walking away from Paul and me at the piano.
‘Do you want to take a raincheck?’ Paul calls out mischievously. ‘I’m always happy to help.’
‘So am I,’ I add mildly.
Tiffany gives us both the finger without looking back, and Paul and I burst out laughing. I can tell this is nothing new for him. Catfights and rampaging hormones must come with the territory. I mean, the man’s been stalked, for Christ’s sake. I wonder how he stands it.
Amusement still lighting his pale eyes, Paul asks, ‘So what can I really do for you? We have some unfinished business, my girl. You’re a hard woman to pin down.
Doing a runner from this morning’s rehearsal really grabbed everyone’s attention. It also highlighted how you’re streets ahead of anyone else out there and the backbone of this sorry mess. Was that the plan?’ I shake my head, still grinning. ‘Though Tiffany would give you a different answer.’
‘I bet,’ he replies. ‘Is now a good time to grab that coffee?’
‘I just need you to answer a couple of quick questions,’ I say hastily. ‘We can make a separate date to talk about my career options next week, if you like.’ His expression turns into one of intrigued enquiry.
‘Shoot,’ he says, shuffling loose piano music into a neat pile with his long-fingered hands, his eyes never leaving mine.
‘I’m billeted with the Daleys,’ I say.
‘Oh, yes,’ he replies immediately, taking a seat on the piano stool with his back to the keys, his eyes still on mine. ‘What a sad, sad situation.’
‘Yes, yes, it is,’ I say. ‘I was just wondering whether Lauren Daley ever met Laurence Barry before she disappeared?’ Paul stares at me for a moment, then frowns.
‘Laurence Barry? Why certainly. Before you came along and put us all definitively in the shade, Lauren was the star soprano at our joint school concerts. Laurence has been the Little Falls music director since 1969; practically forever to someone as young as you are. He gave her a lot of private coaching, I believe, for the combined concert we held the year she disappeared. Gerard Masson took her lunchtime coaching sessions, but had Laurence take her for the before- and after-school ones because the old man’s the opera fanatic. I remember it clearly — that was my first year in the job and Gerard was raving about her.
Said he’d make her a star by any means at his disposal.
I’d just moved here from the Framlingham School.’ He beams, as if I should know the name, but it means nothing to me. It must be that fancy city school that Spencer was talking about.
I try to keep my voice even and conversational.
‘And do you remember a student from Little Falls called Jennifer Appleton? Would she and Lauren have had any connection?’ Paul’s expressive mouth turns down. ‘I hope they catch that monster,’ he murmurs. ‘ Of course I remember Jennifer Appleton. She was one of the remarkable singers I was telling you about. Lauren was the other one.’ His eyes grow slightly unfocused as he says softly:
‘Sous le dome epais Ou le blanc jasmin Ah! Descendons Ensemble!’ His eyes snap back to mine when I continue to look blank.
‘It’s French,’ he says gently. ‘ Under the thick dome where the white jasmine … Ah! We descend, together! ’
‘Uh, okay,’ I say. Clearly, I was never a fluent French speaker in any past life.
‘From Leo Delibes’ Lakme,’ Paul adds helpfully.
‘Jennifer and Lauren sang the most incredible duet. Both of them these tiny little things, one so dark, one so pale.
They were a lot like you, actually — delicate-looking but with incredible power in their voices. That’s what I was trying to tell you the other day. It’s uncanny that I should stumble across three of you with such talent, with such similar … physicality, all here in “Paradise” of all places. Fitting, don’t you think?’ His light eyes hold a look of amused reverie.
He smiles. ‘Where was I? Oh, yes. Lauren — she’d only just turned sixteen — sang the demanding part of Mallika and Jennifer the divine part of Lakme. A kind of passing of the musical baton from one prodigy to the other, so to speak — it was Jennifer’s final year at Little Falls Academy that year. It’s a pity she got so tall and fat. Who would have thought? Anyway, what an incredible night. They blew the audience away, and people around here think music’s only for piping into elevators or shopping malls. You should have heard the silence after they finished singing! After everyone regained their senses, the applause didn’t stop for at least twenty minutes. They were forced to give two encores.
No one had ever heard anything like it. Likely never will again. We all knew at least one of them was headed for immortality, if not both.’ His eyes are shining with the memory, excitement in his beautiful voice, then his face clouds over. ‘Then all this happened. It’s a weird coincidence, don’t you think?
The two of them taken? Somehow … collected?’ Then he shoots me a shrewd look. ‘But you don’t think it’s a coincidence, do you? You think Laurence had something to do with it. Have you spoken to anyone else about this? It’s pretty explosive stuff. Laurence is up there with God around these parts, in more ways than one.
Some people think he has a direct line …’ The corners of his mouth quirk up a little.
I shake my head. ‘It’s just something I came up with on my own. Just a crazy thought. What would I know?
I mean, who’d believe me?’ For some reason, I keep Ryan’s name out of it. The guy’s got no one else looking out for his privacy.
‘Who indeed?’ Paul says sympathetically. ‘Well, the man clearly had opportunity,’ he muses. ‘He’s been tight with the Appleton family since Jennifer’s parents were each in their teens, and he was coaching both of the girls before the concert — Jennifer and Lauren. But it’s still a lot to process. No one’s ever fingered Laurence before.
It makes a crazy kind of sense, but it won’t be popular.
You might have stumbled onto something here. You know he’s an opera fanatic from way back?’ he adds.
I shake my head. It’s all beginning to fit. Ryan checked out Lauren’s Paradise High musical connections, but I bet it never occurred to him to look at the choirmaster of Little Falls Academy.
‘It was Laurence’s idea that they take on “The Flower Duet” in the first place,’ Paul continues, looking down at his fine-boned hands. ‘I doubt Gerard, with his pedestrian tastes — popular musicals, oratory and the like,’ he practically shudders, ‘would have thought to give such challenging material to a couple of high-school kids from the sticks. Jennifer probably caught the opera bug off Laurence as a child — he’s been a friend of the family forever. If he’s somehow involved in this, it’s going to break their hearts all over again —’
‘Well, thanks for your help,’ I cut in, my mind leaping ahead to how much new stuff I have to tell Ryan.
I wonder if he’ll be pleased. It’s disgusting how much I need his approval. I hardly recognise myself, and that’s saying a lot.
