Nightingale

Chapter 3

The usual group of students arrived in the school theatre hall that Tuesday evening at about six o'clock; they were getting ready to practice a song for a local charity event. Among them were three boys and eight girls. Fable and Rachel were the strongest singers in the group, and ironically, the most introverted. The two of them silently competed with each other in terms of their voices and constantly battled to come out on top – each of them desperately wanted to be picked to sing the hardest and most memorable part of the song. The music teacher had the students sit in a circle, and asked that each of them stand up to sing their lines without any music as a warm up. As a show of bravado, one of the boys stood up and began to sing, but he was only a few seconds in when he was interrupted by the squeaky sounds of doors opening and then banging shut. Two teachers walked in. One was an old Geography teacher, Mr Grimshaw, and the other was his colleague, who to Fable's shock and horror, was Mr Hudson. They were chattering away, and their footsteps echoed loudly as they approached the group, who had all turned their heads to see what the interruption was about.

"Hi guys!" exclaimed Mr Hudson with a wide smile on his face, "Sorry to distract you. We've heard great things about this choir and hoped to get a little preview of your performance. Mind if we listen in?"

"Not at all" replied the music teacher, Mrs Green, who was already beaming with pride. "Not often we get an audience at this time of day – good practice for the nerves, people!"

Oh god no! - thought Fable. This was the last thing she needed right now! She was feeling tired and her voice felt weaker than usual, as if she had a cold coming on. She couldn't believe her misfortune! Mr Hudson had walked in unexpectedly to appraise her voice and she wasn't even on form and hadn't even done any extra warm ups before class. Being a perfectionist was difficult and possibly one of her worst traits. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears so loudly it seemed to drown out the voices of her peers as if she was swimming deep under water. She watched as each member stood up. One after another, they began to sing – completely unbothered by the fact they were being watched by a fresh pair of eyes. Now it was her turn. Perhaps her only time to impress Mr Hudson with her voice.

Fable stood up, shaking as if she had palsy. Her palms felt damp and her throat was suddenly as dry as a desert. She sung her piece. And as she expected, it was completely and utterly mediocre. There was nothing special about it. It was one of her worst and most shaky performances in a long, long time – though as she sat down, she did allow the big tide of relief to wash over her body, before she lost control of her breathing altogether. There was one more singer left, and it was her friend and nemesis, Rachel. Fable eyed her friend with apprehension, her pulse still racing from her turn, and to her astonishment, noted how beautifully Rachel was singing! Her voice cut through the air like the purest diamond. Every note was hit with the precision and flare. This was her worst nightmare! She was nothing and Rachel was perfect! Only to add to this big disappointment, Fable noticed Mr Hudson applauding Rachel's efforts, and turning his head to Mr Grimshaw to give him a look of consternation. He then called out, "Wow, Rachel! You have an amazing talent there – as all of you do. Well done everyone, give yourself a big pat on the back!"

Fable knew he was only referring to Rachel's talent really, but felt it necessary to praise everybody in the name of fairness. He was that sort of man, after all. This didn't make her feel any better about herself, though

"Good job, Rach" Fable whispered to her friend defeatedly. "You really outshone us all today – I sucked so hard."

"Aw, thanks" smiled Rachel, who put her arm around Fable, "But no way, you did really well too, I promise."

Yeah, yeah – thought Fable. She observed longingly as Mr Hudson began to tamper with his antique wristwatch, and then proceeded to leave the room with the other teacher – laughing merrily as he went. She felt the embers of her heart cooling as the doors banged shut behind him. She was unable to focus for the rest of the session, as she couldn't stop dwelling on the total failure she was that evening. Finally, it was time to pack up and hit the road. Fable let out a long sigh as she wrapped herself up in a cream, knitted scarf and slipped on her best red, leather gloves – it was bitterly cold outside for mid-October, but she still wanted to look good. She exited through the back door which lead out onto a sickly, spiralling staircase down to the ground. She felt her stomach churning as she descended. The wind whipped through her hair and stung her eyes; the small teardrops dangling off her lashes like glistening baubles.