Song Above the Clouds Read Online Free PDF Page A

lost and vulnerable she almost accidentally managed to convey the vulnerability of Verdi’s heroine so effectively that before she had finished Sue began to be aware of a prickling sensation in her throat, and even Colonel Ryland, himself no opera-lover, put his brandy aside and muttered to his wife that the girl was good.
    When she had finished there was a spontaneous burst of applause, and three of the listeners urged her to sing again, but the Conte di Lucca sat quite still in front of the keyboard, and for at least thirty seconds said nothing at all. Then he stood up and bowed.
    “Thank you, Miss Wells. You have a fine voice.”
    She looked at him a little vaguely, and he smiled, rather as he might have smiled at a clever child, and repeated what he had said.
    “You have a very good voice. Take care of it.”
    “Tell her to sing something else, Conte.” Sue, bursting with gratification, was beaming across at Candy.
    “Not to-night. I think she is a little tired.” His voice was firm, and Candy was grateful for the understanding behind the words. She felt flat, and drained of all energy, and the knowledge that she had just sung a difficult aria with more power and artistry than she had ever commanded in her life before meant very little to her. It was over, and that was the main thing. All she wanted now was to go to bed, and without much caring what anyone thought of her she abruptly said so. Sue opened her mouth to protest, but a gla n ce from her mother-in-law checked her, and the Italian, having closed the piano, moved to open the door for her. “Good-night, signorina .”
    “Good-night.” She looked around the room, and quite without meaning to, caught John’s eye. He looked away quickly, and she knew he was relieved because he wouldn’t have to talk to her any more that night. A feeling of finality came over her; she supposed it was just a sectio n of her life that had ended, but it felt more like the end of everything.
    A chorus of slightly embarrassed ‘good-nights’ followed her out into the hall ... and then the Conte firmly closed the door behind her, and she was alone. More alone than she had ever been in her life before.
    The grandfather clock began to chime ten, and she shook her head as if to clear it of something, then moved slowly up the stairs to her room.

 
    CHAPTER THREE
    THE following day was Sunday, and in Great Mincham it was Harvest Festival. After breakfast Colonel and Mrs. Ryland, Sue and Candy went to church—what the Roman Catholic Conte di Lucca did wasn’t clear, but Candy supposed he might have gone to Mass. It was a wonderful autumn morning, and as after the service they walked back to the house through a drifting carpet of yellow beech leaves the ache inside her seemed to ease a little, as if a soothing balm had been applied to it. For a while she walked between Sue and Colonel Ryland, and then, quite deliberately it seemed, John dropped back to join them, and Sue with elaborate tact walked on with the Colonel.
    For a while they walked in silence, while Candy’s heart began to thump a little, and then, abruptly, the man beside her spoke.
    “Candy...”
    “Yes?” Her eyes were on the sky, tracking the flight of a solitary jackdaw, and she didn’t look at him.
    “That singing of yours last night—it was quite something. I...” He hesitated and laughed, rather uncomfortably. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
    “I haven’t sung much lately—at least, not during the last year or so.” If he was only going to make polite conversation, why did he have to talk to her at all? She added: “And I didn’t really sing well last night. Your friend is a very good pianist—his accompaniment helped a lot.”
    “Don’t be absurd.” He was obviously irritated. “Y o u’ve got a real talent. You must know that. It’s time something was done about it ... something concrete.”
    She said nothing.
    “It’s too bad you couldn’t keep that appointment with Caspelli,