Phoebe's Performance

The Show Must Go On

Carol beams at her handiwork and Mickey claps her hands together. "Chop chop. Put on my shoes."

"What about you?"

"Don't worry about me."

I do exactly as she instructs, pull the stilettos on and that's when the dressing room door flies open.

Veronica strides into the centre, her hands come to her hips. "Not only are you a complete flake but you're helping yourself to my things?"

Otto trails behind her and I stand up from the dressing table, my legs quivering. "All those times on the phone when you acted so nice, when you were helping me arrange my relocation to Vienna, you never mentioned tonight." My voice shakes as I talk. I point my finger at her chest. "All those times on the phone, you didn't mention anything."

"Come on Phoebe, we all know why you didn't perform." She throws her head back and laughs. "You were too frightened. Ever since your car accident you've bailed on any opportunity. Everyone knows, Maestro knows, Otto here knows and now the world knows that because you didn't show."

"You tricked me." My hands curl into tiny little fists. "You set me up. You purposely took my spot."

"No one's going to believe your sorry little tale, not even Maestro." Veronica folds her arms and raises her eyebrows. "The rumour mill knows that once upon a time you were a pianist with great potential. You were Maestro's protégé but boy you let him down when you refused to continue lessons after your accident. Some musician's just can't handle it when the going gets tough."

"That's not what happened tonight. I've pulled myself together."

"Ah," Veronica smiles sweetly. "But your reputation precedes you."

"It's your word against mine."

"Yes, it is your word against mine."

I cover my mouth with my hand. "Oh my God." I rush from the dressing room because I know that Veronica's right. No one will realise that Veronica is a two faced snake. I'll be blacklisted as a pianist. No conductor will want to take a chance on having me as a soloist in his production. Pedro will probably dump me. My career is finished, over, and I don't know what I can do about it.

There's a tread behind me and at first I wonder whether it's Mickey but I hear her shrill voice as she shouts abuse at Veronica. I swivel, and stare at Otto. Disappointment is stamped on his face.

"I'm so sorry," I say but his expression doesn't change.

"Phoebe, we waited and waited and waited." Little lines form on his forehead. "The audience was getting restless. We couldn't wait any longer."

"The snow held us up and then security wouldn't let me in because I was soaked." My voice cracks and I wave my hand. "It doesn't matter, does it? It wasn't meant to be. This whole career thing wasn't meant to be. I know that now. You were so angry about the piece in Symphony Magazine and I would have never guessed that you'd agree to play a duet."

"I thought by facing the rumours then maybe the magazine would print something nice about me. They might say I've still got it...but...."

"Well you'll show them," I say, softly. "Good luck."

"That's just it...I need a favour."

"What's that?"

"I'm supposed to be playing a solo tonight."

"Yes, I know. You're going to show Symphony Magazine and all that!"

"I need you to play Brahms for me," he says in a flat voice.