The Piano

by Border Rosemary

  The three boys worked very hard. They cleaned out the building. They cleaned the windows too. Then they put the piano on Mr Wood's lorry.

  'What time are we going?' asked Pip.

  'Eight o'clock,' answered Tony.

  Linda gave the boys their supper that night. Mrs Wood was at a meeting in the village.

  'Boys,' said Linda, 'Father says you are borrowing the lorry tonight.'

  'Yes, that's right,' said Pip. 'I'm driving.'

  'Please, can you take me to the village? Catherine is ill.' Catherine was Linda's best friend. 'I want to visit her.'

  'But...' began Tony. He looked into her kind brown eyes and he told her his story. He told her about his old school. He told her about Mrs Lark. He talked about the village school, and the open door, and the quiet, empty classroom. Linda listened. John and Pip listened too. Then Linda smiled.

  'Thank you, Tony. Now I understand. And I want to help you.'

  The boys drove Linda to Catherine's house.

  'Please come back at half past nine,' she said to Pip. She spoke loudly because Catherine's mother was listening. Then she said, very quietly, 'Good luck, Tony - and be careful!'

  The boys drove the lorry to the little school. Then they moved the piano. It was very heavy, but they were young and strong. They pushed it into the classroom and stood it against a wall.

  'It looks beautiful here,' said Pip. He touched the keys. They made a loud, unmusical noise.

  'Listen to that!' said his brother. 'You had piano lessons for three years, but you didn't learn anything. Play something for us, Tony.'

  Tony sat down and began to play one of Mrs Lark's songs. The music sang in his mind. It travelled along his arms. His fingers danced over the keys. He did not look at his hands. He did not look at the keys. His eyes were closed. He was in another world.

  His friends listened. Tony was not clever. He was big and quiet and slow. But there was music in his big, strong hands.

  That summer was a happy time for Tony. Every evening after supper he borrowed Linda's bicycle. He cycled to the school, and he played the piano. When it was dark he cycled back to the farm again. He was afraid to turn on a light in the school. He did not want anybody to see him.

  'I think Tony has a girlfriend,' said Mrs Wood to Linda. Linda just smiled.

  Tony learned to read music. Linda brought him a book of easy songs. She showed him the music. He looked at the little black notes and the five thin black lines on the pages of the book.

  'This is easy,' he said to Linda. 'It's like writing. The notes tell your fingers what to do.'

  'That's right,' said Linda. She showed him the long notes and the short notes. She taught him to read the words at the top of the page.

  'Look!' she said. 'That's Italian. Lento-slow.'

  But Tony was not slow. He learned very fast. Linda was a good teacher. Both of them enjoyed her lessons.

  Chapter six

  Mr Gordon finds a Musician

  Mr Gordon was the teacher at the little village school. He was a kind old man and the children liked him. They enjoyed his lessons and he enjoyed teaching them. There was no piano at the school. This sometimes made him a little unhappy, because he loved music very much. But he sang with the children. He filled their young minds with songs and stories. It was a happy school.

  One night during the summer holidays Mr Gordon wanted a book. He looked everywhere.

  'I know!' he said suddenly. 'I left it at school. I'll go there at once. It isn't far away.'

  He walked through the school garden. The door of the school was open! He felt in his pocket for the key - it was not there!

  'Oh dear!' thought Mr Gordon. 'I forgot to lock the door. Now somebody is in the school. Perhaps it's a thief! What can I do?' Then he heard the music...

  Tony played the same line of music again and again. It was not easy.

  'Prestissimo,' said the words at the top of the page. 'Very fast.' His ringers flew over the keys.

  Mr Gordon stood and listened. There was a happy smile on his face. Then Tony stopped playing.

  'That wasn't right,' he said to himself. He looked carefully at the little black notes on their thin black lines. 'The left hand goes like this.'

  Mr Gordon spoke. 'And the right hand goes like this...'

  Tony turned round. His face was white. 'Don't tell the police,' he said. 'Please. I haven't stolen anything. I haven't done anything wrong.'

  'No, no, of course not,' said the teacher. 'But who are you? What are you doing in my classroom? And how did this piano get here?'

  Mr Gordon visited the farm and talked to Mr and Mrs Wood.

  'Tony is very special,' said Mr Gordon. 'I have been a teacher for forty years, but I have never met a boy like Tony. He must have music lessons at once. Then he must go to the College of Music in London. He needs to work with other musical boys and girls.'

  'But his mother and father are poor,' said Mrs Wood. 'They can't pay for music lessons. They can't send him to college. They have five small children at home. Tony sends them money every month.'

  'I can give Tony his first lessons,' said Mr Gordon. 'I don't want any money - I'll be very happy to teach this wonderful boy. I feel - oh, how can I explain to you? This is a very exciting time for me. Last night I came to school to look for a book, and I found a musician! But Tony learns very quickly. Soon he will need a really good teacher. Then we'll have to think about money. Perhaps Tony can go to the College of Music in the daytime and work in a restaurant in the evenings...'

  'No, he can't!' said Mr Wood. Suddenly his face was red and angry.

  'Tony is a good boy. He's like a son to us. His father is poor, but we are not.'

  'That's right!' said his wife. She was usually a quiet woman, but her eyes were bright and excited. 'We will send Tony to the College of Music,' she said.

  Tony knew nothing about their conversation. He was cleaning Mr Wood's new car when Mr Gordon visited the farm. But that visit changed his life. Mr Wood had a quiet talk with him later.

  'Mr Gordon wants to give you piano lessons,' he told Tony.

  Tony's eyes shone like stars. Then he shook his head. 'I haven't any money, sir,' he said.

  'Mr Gordon doesn't want any money. I've had a talk with him. You are going to go to the school at four o'clock every afternoon. You will have your lesson, and you will practise on the piano for two hours. Then you'll come back to the farm and have your supper.'

  'But my work...' began Tony.

  'I can find another farm boy,' said Mr Wood, 'but good musicians are special people. Give me three tickets for your first concert, and I'll be happy.'

  Chapter seven

  The Music Competition

  Tony worked and worked. He got up at six every morning. He worked on the farm until four o'clock in the afternoon. But every minute of the day, music filled his mind.

  At four o'clock he cycled to his piano lesson with Mr Gordon. He practised until seven o'clock, then he cycled back to the farm for supper. After supper he read Mr Gordon's music books. Often he fell asleep at the kitchen table.

  At night, while he slept, his mind was still full of music. Small black notes danced in front of his eyes. When he woke up the music was still there. Tony lived in a world of music.

  The leaves fell from the trees. Winter came. It was dark when Tony got up in the mornings. It was dark when he cycled to his piano lesson, and it was dark when he cycled back to the farm again. Sometimes it snowed. Then he had to walk to and from the school. But he never missed a lesson.

  'How's the boy getting on?' the farmer asked Mr Gordon one day.

  'Very well,' said the teacher. 'But he's too quick for me. Soon he'll need a real teacher.'

  Spring came, and the trees were green again.

  'There's a music competition in the town on June 12th,' said Mr Gordon one evening.

  'Can I go and listen?' asked Tony.

  'No,' said his teacher. 'I w
ill go and listen. You are going to play in the competition.'

  'But I can't do that! I need to practise more. I'm not ready!' said Tony.

  'You will be ready,' said his teacher quietly.

  Mr Gordon was a kind old man. But he made Tony practise for four hours every day. Another boy helped Mr Wood on the farm while Tony practised for the competition.

  'Two weeks to go before the competition,' said Mr Gordon one evening. 'Look, this is the programme.'

  The programme was big and beautiful and expensive. Tony looked for his name. He found it. 'Anthony Evans, aged 15. Piano.'

  'Nobody calls me Anthony,' he said. 'Why can't they call me Tony?'

  'Tony is a boy's name,' said Mr Gordon. 'Anthony is a man's name. Tony Evans was a farm boy. Anthony Evans is a musician. One day, Anthony Evans will be famous all over the world. And from today I'm going to call you Anthony.'

  On the morning of the competition Mr and Mrs Wood and Anthony went into town in the car. While Mr Wood had a drink with some friends, Mrs Wood took Anthony shopping. She bought him a new brown suit and a new white shirt. Then she took him into a shoe shop - and Pip's father sold her some new shoes for Anthony.

  They were beautiful shoes. They shone like glass and Mrs Wood liked them very much. The shoes were too small and they hurt Anthony's feet. But he did not say anything - what could he say?

  Mrs Wood paid for the shoes, and Pip's father put them in a box.

  'I hear you're playing in the music competition tonight,' he said to Anthony. 'I saw your name in the programme. Anthony Evans - it sounds wonderful. Good luck!'

  In the evening the Wood family and Anthony drove to Mr Gordon's house. Mr Gordon came out. He was wearing his best suit.

  'You look wonderful, Mr Gordon!' laughed Mrs Wood. 'Are you getting married?'

  The old man got into the car and they all drove to the competition. The Woods went to their seats, but Mr Gordon took Anthony through the stage door. He took him to a room behind the stage. A lot of musicians were waiting there. The women were wearing long dresses. The men were wearing evening suits. Nobody spoke to Anthony.

  'Goodbye, my boy,' said Mr Gordon, 'and good luck.'

  Anthony sat in the waiting room for a long time. His feet hurt. They burned like fire. His hands felt cold. They were shaking. From a long way away he heard the sound of a piano. Every few minutes a man came in and called someone's name. After a long time the man came in and said, 'Mr Evans, please.' Anthony did not move. Nobody usually called him Mr Evans!

  'Mr Anthony Evans, please!' said the man again. 'Come along - we haven't got all night!'

  Anthony got up. 'Oh, my feet hurt!' he thought. He followed the man up some stairs. 'I'm walking like Charlie Chaplin,' he thought. 'Everybody will laugh at me.'

  He walked on to the stage and sat down at the big piano. The dark wood shone like glass. He could see his face in it. He turned round and looked at the sea of faces. He could not see the Wood family. He could not see Mr Gordon. But suddenly Anthony felt their love and their kindness. His feet stopped hurting, his hands stopped shaking. He touched the piano. It was much bigger than the old piano in the classroom. The keys looked very clean and new. He wanted to touch them.

  'Well,' he said to himself, 'of course I want to touch them. That's why I'm here!' And he began to play. He forgot about himself. He forgot about all the strange people in the theatre, and he just played for his friends. He played for Mr and Mrs Wood. He played for Linda. He played for Mr Gordon. And he played for old Mrs Lark.

  'Where are you now, Mrs Lark?' he thought. 'Do you remember Tony Evans? You gave us a lot of happiness, Mrs Lark. Thank you. Thank you.' His hands flew over the piano keys. Beautiful sounds filled the theatre.

  'He's going to win the competition,' Mr Gordon said to himself. 'And this is the happiest day of my life.'

  And Anthony won the competition. He knew that he was the winner because he saw his photograph in the newspaper the next day. But he could not remember anything about it. All he remembered was his feet.

  When he got out of the car, he could not walk. His new shoes hurt him too much. Mr Wood helped him into the kitchen while Mrs Wood filled an old tin bath with warm water. Linda took Anthony's shoes off. His feet were very hot and red. He put them in the warm water.

  'This is wonderful,' he said.

  'You've won!' shouted Mrs Wood. 'Forget about your feet, boy - you've won the competition! This is the most important night in your life!'

  But Anthony was too tired to answer. They helped him up to bed, and he slept until nine o'clock the next morning.

  Linda brought him breakfast in bed. He felt very strange and uncomfortable. 'I've never had breakfast in bed before,' he told her.

  Chapter eight

  The End of the Story

  Sir Anthony Evans turned to me. 'That competition was the start of wonderful things for me,' he said. 'I went to the College of Music for three years. Of course, I worked hard, but I enjoyed every minute. I always went back to the farm for my holidays. And one summer, when I was twenty, I asked Miss Linda Wood a very important question. "I can't give you much, Linda," I told her. "But one day I shall be rich and famous. Then I'll come back again, and I'll ask you to marry me." She gave me a long, loving look. Then she laughed. "Oh, Anthony," she said. "Don't wait until you're rich and famous. Ask me now!" So I did - and here we are!'

  'We've been married for sixty years. Five years ago, the Queen invited us to Buckingham Palace. I was Mr Anthony Evans when I went into the Palace. I was Sir Anthony Evans when I came out... and,' - he took his wife's hand - 'my dear Linda was Lady Evans.'

  There was a knock at the door of the dressing-room. 'Two minutes, Sir Anthony!' said a voice.

  The famous musician stood up. 'I'm ready,' he said. He turned to me.

  'How many concerts have I given? Two thousand? Three thousand? For me, every concert is new and exciting. Now go, my dear, and write your story. Tell the readers of your newspaper that I am a very lucky man.'

  - THE END -

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