by Nicky Bright
‘Master, I had just come to report that a strange man has been sighted in the college. The porters are very concerned. Oh, I can see that you’ve got him already.’ Helen Brown stepped back and adjusted her glasses.
‘Sloan, is that you? And what’s that awful smell?’
‘Sloan,’ said the master.
‘Manure,’ said Sloan.
‘Same thing!’ Helen whispered to herself, as she quietly closed the door of the masters study.
Claudia was tired after some intensive practice sessions and decided to rest for a little while on a nearby log. There was going to be one final rehearsal before they all went home and she could hardly wait because it had been such a long day. Roger had continued to praise her for her playing. She was beginning to get used to receiving praise now, but Roger saying that she’d found her voice with the flute intrigued her. What exactly did he mean?
She looked across the field and saw that Ferdinand and Finn were talking excitedly, waving their violin bows in the air and actually looking as though they were about to start fighting. She was relieved when, in the end, they were all smiles and actually gave each other a hug.
The final rehearsal went well, and Elfie told everyone that he thought they were ready to give it their best shot on Sunday. Claudia noticed that Finn and Julia were holding hands as they walked towards the gate, and so she held back a little, not wanting to butt in on what she hoped was a budding romance. Yes, there were signs of that, she thought, and instinctively kicked the gate post.
‘Hello, little Claudia – don’t like gates?’ It was Elfie, always the last to leave. He looked down the pathway at the fading figures.
‘Oh – I see. Well, that’s good.’
‘I think so too,’ Claudia responded.
‘Can I walk with you? Going over the bridge at Aristotle?’
‘Yes,’ said Claudia, cheering up a little bit at the thought of having some company.
‘It’s been some week! We owe a lot to you and Julia for getting Elaine and Ferdinand back. I’m sure they’ll make a difference.’
‘Do we have a good chance?’
‘Oh yes. On the music side we have a very good chance, but there’s quite a lot of politics going on behind the scenes. By the way, did you notice that I was trying to lead you during the rehearsal?’
‘I wasn’t sure. Am I playing that well? I wanted to ask you something. Roger said that I’d found my voice. What do you think he meant by that?’
‘First of all, you are playing that well. Judges are always looking for something a little special. What I think Roger meant was that you’ve found your own individual style, and that you can be different, in the sound, you know, when you play music. Well, here we are. It doesn’t take long, does it? Now, do get a good night’s sleep, and as for tomorrow just relax and be yourself – and play for yourself. Don’t worry about what anyone else might think – okay?’
Elfie smiled broadly, and with a cheerful wave went off down the towpath towards Oxford. Claudia crossed over the stone bridge near the Shipmates Pub and walked slowly home, wondering at how fast her life had changed. She had a really good feeling about herself for the first time in a long time.
Back at Old College, after leaving the master, Dr Sloan had made his way back up to his rooms. He was feeling good about himself because at last it seemed that he had done something right for Dr Fennell. He fairly danced up the stairs towards his rooms. Mozart’s ears pricked at the sound of Sloan coming up the stairs, and decided it was basket time. Perhaps it was time for another kitty snack? He practised his best purr. The door opened and Dr Sloan burst in.
‘You’ll never guess, Mozart! Success – success at last! I’m in the master’s good books.’
Mozart’s acute sense of smell kicked in. He instantly decided it was time to leave the basket and seek refuge in the highest possible location at the top of the bookshelf.
‘Mozart! Come down. Don’t desert me now! It’s time to celebrate.’ Mozart gave one of his less friendly purrs – one might even say a growl. If his master wanted to celebrate, he would definitely have to have a good bath first.
12
The Final Battle
When the storm blows,
Stand strong.
Wait for the sun
Then sing your song.
Claudia. MySpace.
On Sunday morning, the sun beamed through Claudia’s window and fell on Aragorn’s picture. As Claudia woke up she looked at the picture and it reminded her of what lay ahead. Like Aragorn, she had a cause, a reason to go out and do her best. Nothing less would do. She was determined to support her friends.
‘Claudia, breakfast is on the table!’ Kate called out from the kitchen. Claudia looked at the clock. Goodness! She’d slept in! She hurried downstairs.
‘Good morning, Kate – sorry I’m a bit late for breakfast. Slept like a log!’
‘Another busy day today, I gather?’
‘It’s a big, big day for me, a real biggy. I might be home a little on the late side – is that okay?’
‘You don’t want to tell me just a little about it?’ Kate smiled invitingly at Claudia, as she passed over the toast. Claudia looked at Kate. She saw that Kate just wanted to help – or something – but as a friend.
‘I will tell you – I promise, Kate, but not today. After today. Any news from Father?’ Claudia tried to change the topic.
‘Next week – he’ll be home next week – all going well. I’m off today to lunch with Jane. We’re going to do something for him.’
‘Oh, count me in!’ This surprised Kate. It sounded so grown-up. It was the first time Claudia wanted to do something with her and Jane.
‘You’ve been so busy lately. Don’t worry. We’ll do something special for him together.’
Claudia smiled. She got her things together. Kate had made up a lunchbox and, with that and her floppy hat, sunglasses and flute, she was soon on her way. Kate sighed as she watched her go down the garden to the canal. Jane had told her to ‘go with the flow’, and she was happy enough with that, but she was looking forward to the time when Claudia would tell her a little more. She suspected that Claudia had found a like group of musos to play with, but it all seemed positive and she simply had to trust Claudia.
As she crossed the bridge onto the meadow, Claudia looked over to the hills to see if she could see the falcon, but it was nowhere about. It was a clear, bright day, and over on the north meadow she could see the striped judges’ tents and the different groups of musicians. She had been told that, for the final, the two colours would be red and blue, and her team’s colour would be blue.
As she got closer, she could see people putting on red or blue armbands. Familiar faces quickly came into view. Tom Tuba was huffing about as usual. Ferdinand was there with the violins, but there was no sign of Elfie. Claudia sighted Julia, elegantly dressed for the day and wearing a blue armband. Julia quickly came over to join her.
‘Now, don’t be alarmed, Claudia, but there’s been an unfortunate incident.’
‘Incident?’
‘Well, let me put it this way. In that tent over there, war has broken out!’
‘What war?’ Claudia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Julia pulled Claudia to one side, to make sure that they could speak privately.
‘A little while ago, Sloan turned up with the master and Jenkins and accused Elfie of cheating.’
‘Cheating? How?’
‘Apparently, Sloan was spying on us yesterday and counted two new extra members of our orchestra and possibly saw Elaine and Ferdinand. He would know they weren’t there last week! Listen!’ Julia pointed to the nearby tent.
The noise from inside the tent was certainly getting louder. Dr Sloan had made his complaint to the chief judge, but a number of dignitaries immediately joined the fray, including the chairman of the
college, the chief constable and various musical directors from around the Thames Valley.
At first, Elfie simply exploded at the cheating accusation, although he had half expected something underhand to happen at the last minute. The chief judge eventually calmed people down and then asked each side to present its case. Dr Sloan started with his accusation.
‘First of all,’ he said. ‘I speak with the authority of the master of Old College.’ He turned and waved to the master, who at this point was beginning to look distinctly uncomfortable, surrounded as he was by important people from far and wide. He interrupted Dr Sloan.
‘I can say,’ he said, loosening his collar, and puffing himself up, ‘that this complaint is being made by our director of music, Dr Sloan, and, of course, it is his responsibility.’ Not quite happy with this, he added. ‘Entirely his responsibility.’
Dr Sloan gulped. This was not exactly what they had agreed, but it was too late to back out now.
‘Go on!’ said the chief judge, rather sternly.
‘Blue team has just added two new members to their orchestra – at the last minute. They were obviously put off by our superior performance in the semi-finals, and now they’ve brought in two people that weren’t in the semis. This is of course against the rules. Of course, I would welcome the chance to beat them straight out in a performance, but under the circumstances I request that they be disqualified.’ A gasp of surprise ran through the tent. The chief judge thought for a moment.
‘Why not, then, Dr Sloan? Why not just have it out in the performance this afternoon? Why are you going for a technical disqualification?’
Sloan looked very uncomfortable. The master shifted about and kept looking over his shoulder.
‘Rules are rules! If you want to throw the rulebook out the window, then I suppose that’s an option. I believe in playing by the rules.’ Immediately a heated discussion broke out.
Helen Brown was staggered that Dr Sloan, after his recent behaviour, could make such a statement, but she took the opportunity of the break in proceedings and tugged at Sir Michael’s coat sleeve.
‘I need to talk to you, most urgently,’ she said. ‘It’s important, most urgent.’
Sir Michael turned around. He had been totally absorbed by the current proceedings.
‘Oh, Dr Brown – Helen – is it that important?’
‘Yes!’
‘After this, then. Five minutes. It’s – hopefully – going to be a busy, busy afternoon.’
Meanwhile, the chief judge called the meeting to order.
‘Dr Sloan,’ he said. ‘Did your high standards include asking Professor Smith about these matters?’
‘No, we don’t talk,’ Dr Sloan replied sourly.
‘Well, what do you have to say, Professor Smith?’ the chief judge asked Elfie. Elfie stood up and addressed the judge.
‘I am horrified by this nasty complaint. It is obvious that Dr Sloan has been running around spying on us.’
‘Just deal with the complaint please.’
Elfie continued. ‘It’s obvious that Dr Sloan is repeating history. He has not done his homework. If he had not been so desperate to win at any cost –’ Elfie looked around the room, and particularly stared at the master, ‘– he might have checked the registration papers before making this scandalous accusation.’
‘What do you mean, Professor?’
‘The registration papers show that we put Elaine and Ferdinand in the competition right from the start. They didn’t perform in the semis, for personal reasons.’ Elfie held up the registration papers for all to see. Sloan jumped to his feet, but the master, sensing the inevitable, pulled him down.
‘You’ve stuffed it again, Sloan!’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘Don’t make it worse.’
‘One further point,’ Elfie said. ‘I sent the papers in for one addition to the orchestra – Claudia Ashby – well before the semis – just letting you know in case Dr Sloan starts counting again!’
The chief judge looked long and hard at Dr Sloan.
‘Anything else?’ He asked quite sharply. ‘No? Then case dismissed!’ The group inside the tent broke up, happy that the competition would now go ahead. Helen Brown took Sir Michael by the arm.
‘My five minutes, Sir Michael? It is most urgent that you hear me now.’
‘Over here.’ Sir Michael pointed to a fairly quiet spot.
‘It’s about what’s going on at this competition,’ Helen said. She then went on to explain about the vast and valuable collection under Old College, about the Canadian group wanting to get their hands on it, and the music department, and indeed the college itself and about how winning the competition was essential to the project going ahead.
Sir Michael clutched his chest. ‘This is a terrible shock. I have to sit down.’ They found an old log and Sir Michael plumped down, clearly taken by surprise at Helen’s allegations.
‘I knew there was a group that wanted to establish a foundation – hands across the sea and all of that – but nothing like this. And it’s valuable, is it, this collection?’
‘It’s worth millions! There is even more than they know about. The deal is that the group would control the collection, send it overseas, on tours – all of that, and more.’
‘And the master? What does he get?’
‘As I understand it, he gets overseas travel, overseas appointments, money, perks – quite a lot, actually.’
‘Goodness gracious!’ Sir Michael was seemed to be still in a mild state of shock.
Helen continued while she had the chance. ‘Please listen carefully, Sir Michael. I don’t have much time, and you don’t have much time.’
‘I’m listening – carefully.’
‘This collection is so valuable, and this deal is so important to them, that I think they’ll want to go ahead with the deal anyway, win or lose. You’ll sign up to a foundation, but in reality you’ll be signing away the college treasures. Now, I do have a trump card. I saw a firm of solicitors in London. Apparently the collection was a bequest. Here’s a copy of the document. Use it if you have to.’ Helen handed Sir Michael a folder.
‘Thank you – I hope I won’t need it.’
‘I have to go – I’m needed in the tent. The judges are waiting.’ Helen left Sir Michael sitting on the log. Sir Michael scratched his head. He knew about the foundation, and he thought that everything was fine. What was all this? Maybe Dr Brown was getting things all out of proportion. He stuffed the document into his coat pocket.
Helen brushed past the master on the way into the tent. He seemed unusually confident. She was sure that he had something up his sleeve. What could that be?
Meanwhile, while all of this was going on, Claudia had wandered off to practise her flute. She was attracted by the geese on the Isis and walked over towards the bank of the river. As she approached, she heard the sweet sound of a violin, being played quite softly, just ahead of her. She walked over towards it, to find a young man sitting in a small hollow just above the river. He seemed to be playing to the River Isis itself. He stopped playing and turned abruptly when he heard Claudia approach.
‘Hello,’ Claudia said. ‘That was beautiful – what was it? You can keep playing, if you like.’
Claudia recognised the young man immediately. It was Chin Li.
‘Hello,’ he replied. ‘I think I’ve seen you – of course, the flute.’
‘I’m Claudia.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said rather formally. ‘I am Chin Li.’
‘I know – what was that tune you were just playing?’
‘It’s from where I live, in China – it’s called the Song of the River, but when I play it it makes me sad.’
‘Do you miss it? Home, I mean? I suppose you do miss being away from home.’
Chin Li looked quite sad. ‘I miss it so much – my family, frien
ds, all the locals that I knew – I had so much fun there.’
‘You don’t have any fun here?’ Claudia somehow felt she could ask this because Li looked so sad. For his part, Li was feeling so bad that he really did want to talk to someone, and Claudia seemed like a nice person.
‘The problem is, I don’t know anyone. I’m much younger than all the others and they won’t have anything to do with me. I just go back to my room, and there’s nothing. It upsets me. That’s why I sometimes come here to the Isis. The river makes me calm; it reminds me of home.’
Claudia immediately felt really sorry for Li. ‘You don’t have anyone to talk to?’
‘Only Dr Helen Brown talks to me. She is nice, but she is a busy lady.’
‘What about Dr Sloan?’
‘He got me here,’ Li started to sound upset. ‘He doesn’t care about me at all! All he cares about is my playing.’ Claudia was silent. She didn’t know what to say. Chin Li gazed out at the Isis. There was something about the river that seemed to calm him. ‘Sometimes I would like to fly away, like them’ he said, pointing to the geese. He turned back to Claudia. ‘I suppose you have plenty of friends?’ he asked.
‘Well, no, to be honest. I didn’t have any friends until recently, but now I have one or two good friends at school, and of course everyone here is very nice.’
‘Why didn’t you have any friends?’ Li was now quite curious.
‘The kids at school didn’t like me being good at things – music, maths and stuff. They were nasty to me. I mean, really bad! Then I didn’t want to talk to anyone. It really upset me. Made me angry.’
‘In China, it’s the opposite. People want to be friends, if you’re good at something. What did you do to change things?’
‘I don’t really know, it all happened so fast. I met some people here and they said that I should be myself and stand up for myself. Julia said that. And then I met some people at school, and when I made the effort to talk to them I found that we got along quite well.’
‘So things worked out?’ Li looked impressed.
‘So far. But I feel better. I see things differently now. And I want to be in charge.’