Suddenly, Maude was alone on stage, a broom in her hand, waiting for the curtain to rise. She heard the orchestra play the opening theme, but try as she might, she couldn't help but hear Mrs. Ruchet's words echo in her ear.
Ten years.
She would have to spend ten more years with the Ruchets. She had agreed to it. She even had it in writing. She had also made sure that pact was stashed in a tiny corner of her brain, where she couldn't see it, feel it, or think about it.
Maude had enjoyed her time in New York not wanting to think of what would happen when her six-month stay was up. Could she really go back to her dreary life? Maude looked down at her rags and smiled bitterly, pushing back the tears that threatened to overflow once more. In the opera, Cinderella managed to escape her condition. Maude knew she wouldn't be so lucky. She hated this story, she thought angrily. It was just a huge deception. This whole opera was a farce!
Suddenly the curtain pulled up and Maude faced the crowd.
The room was packed. Women wore their most exquisite evening dresses, the men accompanying them bore their best suits, small girls were fidgeting impatiently in velvet dresses like fairy queens. Every seat, every balcony was filled with people waiting to hear the renowned Cordelia Tragent's version of La Cenerentola.
Maude's mind went blank.
She barely noticed the Baldwins in the front row, looking worriedly at one another wondering if Maude would start singing. She glanced at the orchestra pit where the musicians, puzzled, had started the opening theme again, hoping that Maude would start singing. They didn't realize that her heart was pounding a lot louder than their music, and that was the only rhythm she could perceive at the moment. What she did notice though, was a tall, slim, disheveled young man who had just arrived, breathlessly but quite discreetly, in a light brown trench coat. Matt hadn't had the time to change into a tuxedo and had come to the Opera House as soon as he possibly could.
Maude came back to earth with a start and a painful, frightening realization. She couldn't do this. She couldn't sing. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't play pretend. Mrs. Ruchet had won. So Maude did the only thing she could think of doing.
She ran off the stage.
***
Victoria noiselessly pushed open the door to Maude's room. The room was filled with darkness and she could only hear the young, anguished girl sob breathlessly. She sat on the side of Maude's bed and stroke her disheveled hair gently.
Victoria stayed by her side through the night, trying to soothe her, feeling her heart would break as she heard Maude sob.
"Oh, Victoria! I can never face Ms. Tragent again," she cried.
"Maude, it will be okay."
"No, it won't," she answered staunchly. "She'll kick me out of her class and she won't ever let me come back! And Ma- I mean everyone will think I'm a terrible performer."
"Honey, it happens to everyone. The show wasn't ruined because Lindsey went on stage to play your part."
Maude straightened in her bed, sniffling. She would probably catch a cold after having walked under the pouring rain before finally being able to hail an unwilling taxi. Catching a cab in New York on a rainy night was nothing short of a miracle.
"That doesn't make it any better," she stated mournfully. "Lindsey will never let me live this down. And it's all my fault!" she wailed.
Victoria wrapped Maude in her arms before she collapsed, formless into her heap of covers.
"It is not your fault, Maude," she insisted. "James completely messed up one of his concerts after we'd had a fight once. It was a silly fight, but it happened just before his band's first concert."
"James was in a band?" Maude asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Oh yes, and it wasn't a great one. It was long before he decided to become a producer. That evening was a fiasco, and I'm almost certain he still holds me responsible for that."
Maude remained silent.
"James told me you had a conversation with your foster mother right before the opening act. What did she tell you?" Victoria asked gently.
Maude looked up at Victoria's calm, concerned face and felt tempted to tell her everything. How could she ever begin to explain?
She sighed and replied, "She just told me to break a leg, which I almost achieved while running off stage."
Victoria screened Maude's face. "Maude, you know you can trust me, don't you?"
"I know, Victoria. Can I get some sleep, now? I think I'm all cried out."
"Of course. We'll talk some more tomorrow."
She gently kissed Maude's forehead before tiptoeing out of the room.
James was waiting for her in their room, pacing in circles.
"How is she?" he asked when Victoria returned.
"I don't know," she sighed. "James Baldwin, when will you learn to listen to me? I knew something was off with her family, but this is even worse than I imagined."
"I never thought their relationship was so damaged," James said wearily.
"I instantly perceived she lacked care. I didn't know she was terrified of them. I know she's hiding something. It's as if she's being held prisoner in her own mind. She's alone and frightened and they have a powerful hold over her."
"I never should have called them. I thought it would be a good opportunity for the Ruchets to show their support. I thought they would be proud."
He got up and took Victoria in his arms.
"All I know is I won't let her go back over there unless I'm certain she's safe and properly cared for," Victoria said. "I'll never forget Linda Milton from the shelter. I thought she was better. I turned my back for a second, and she ran back to her abusive husband. He beat her to death that same night. I will never make that mistake again, James."
"I know, honey. That's what I love about you." He kissed the top of her head.
"She's blended perfectly in this family," she whispered. "I can't imagine her leaving at the end of June."
"Maybe she won't have to," James declared. "If her first album is a success, we could convince Alan to let Soulville sign her for a tour and a second album. She could stay with us."
"Her album would have to be a huge success. Alan will be reeling from the fact she ran off stage tonight. He won't understand it was just circumstantial."
"Her album will be a success. I know it, Vic. I've never been so certain about anything like I am of this. We'll start recording in a few days, and when we release her first hit single 'Paris Versus New York City," Alan will be willing to do anything for his new star."
"God, I miss the days when Alan wasn't a part of Soulville Records."
"So do I. I wish I'd never given in to Travis Brighton's need to expand Soulville five years ago. I should've held my ground, but I thought I would be able to reach more artists. Now, as one of three major shareholders of Soulville, I always need Travis to side with me on important decisions. Although he's my oldest friend, we don't always see eye to eye, and he is far more sensitive to Alan's financial rationale than I am."
"Travis sided with you on the decision to sign Maude, but after what happened this evening, he might be tempted to lend an ear to what Alan has to say." Victoria acknowledged gloomily.
"I believe in Maude. I see more potential in that girl than I've ever seen before. I refuse to let Soulville, the company Travis and I built together, become another Glitter Records."
"That won't happen," Victoria affirmed. "Not as long as you're there. You keep the vision alive. As long as you're there, everything will be fine," Victoria repeated convincingly.
YOU ARE READING
A French Girl in New York-OLD VERSION
Teen FictionMaude Laurent is a spirited 16 year-old orphan who grew up in a small, provincial town in the North of France with a passion for piano and a beautiful voice. One day in Paris, she is discovered by an American music producer who takes her to New Yor...