Janey and the Band

Chapter 2

It was unfortunate that the first person she saw when she got back to school was Mrs. Sachs.

'Ah, Janey! Good. Just the person I want to see.'

'I've got to get changed, Mrs. Sachs.'

'There's plenty of time. It'll only take a minute.'

Janey's heart sank. She followed Mrs. Sachs into the practice room, which was used as an office.

They had had one difficult interview already.

Back in January the question of Janey's future career had cropped up.

'Why don't you learn to type?' her mother had suggested. 'Haven't they got any computers up at that school? It'll be useful when you get a job in an office.'

Janey had arranged the extra lesson, with the aid of her Course Tutor, dropping History. It was something useful. More useful than History, or Music come to that.

But Mrs. Sachs had been disgusted and contemptuous.

'Janey, what's the matter with you? It's a waste of time.You must know you'll be doing something in music. With a talent like yours it would be a sin to do anything else.You'll need all your subjects for exams to get into Music College.You'll have to stay on and do A-levels and then apply to the Royal College.'

Janey had panicked. "But you have to be dedicated. I couldn't be a professional musician. I couldn't stand all the work and the strain, or that kind of life. Having to meet new people all the time. I hate meeting new people; I never know what to say. All that travelling. And I don't think I want to say on at school and go to College. I'm not good enough. I'd rather get an ordinary job and get married and settle down.'

Mrs. Sachs looked at her angrily. 'Rubbish! That's just cowardice. It's the competition you're frightened of. And don't think getting married will get you a security blanket either.Your husband could die or go away. The only real security is to develop your own abilities. You've got to learn to rely on yourself.'

Janey stared at her, wondering how she had read her mind.

'I don't understand, Janey, why you have so little confidence in yourself, when you have so much intelligence and talent. Anyway, we'll talk about it again, later in the year. In the meantime, while you're in this school you are going to work at music very hard indeed. For a start, you've got a solo in this pop musical Ronnie and Cliff have written...'

That's how it had started, and she hadn't even been asked.

Mrs. Sachs was saying now, 'I don't seem to have had any reply to my letter to your parents, Janey, about this business of staying on.'

'No, I'm sorry, Mrs. Sachs.'

'I've got to get my exam lists ready for next year. You have mentioned it to them? Explained? I've telephoned your mother several times, but she never seems to be there.'

'She's got two jobs. She's out most of the time.'

'You have spoken to her?'

'Yes, well, I tried but it's really difficult. They won't listen.' It was not strictly true. She was putting off the moment, not wanting to hear the explosion from her father. She had mentioned it vaguely. Her mother had snorted and turned on the television.

'Well, I can't wait any longer, and I'm not taking chances. I called you in to tell you that I've decided to put you in for Advanced Level Music next May, instead of the GCSE.'

Janey was horrified. 'A-level! But I'm not....'

'Oh yes, you are. I think you can do it. I'll set you extra work for this summer holiday, and next term you can work with the Year 13 music group.'

'But...'

'And from next September you'll be doing the special Saturday morning lessons at the Borough Music Centre.'

'Not Saturdays as well!'

'It's quite an honour to get into those classes,' Mrs. Sachs said, drily. 'Now about staying on. Would you like me to see your parents? Talk to them?'

Janey said, frightened, 'I don't think that would do any good. My Dad is working in Germany anyway.'

'Is your mother coming tonight?'

'No, she's working.'

'Mike?' Mrs. Sachs knew Mike well from the time he had played in Safety Rule.

'He said he might come. Mrs. Sachs, I don't...' She stared blindly at the floor and linked her fingers to stop them trembling.

Mrs. Sachs voice softened. 'Yes, I know it's a hard decision. It's not an easy life. But you know you'll have to come to it sooner or later. You can't keep running away.'

'Honestly, I'm not strong enough! I feel terrible now. How would it be to feel like this every night of my life? I want something.... permanent. Not moving about all the time.' She picked at a splinter in the desktop. 'My parents...well, they don't get on. My father's away most of the time. There are a lot of rows when he's around. If I go to college I'll have to go on living with my parents for years. I want to get away. I want a real home.'

It occurred to her, for the first time, that perhaps her mother was trying to find security and permanence too. Was that why she was always on about money, always working so hard to buy expensive, unnecessary things for the house? But it was no good. They weren't a real family. Sometimes Janey thought the whole thing would fly apart again.

Mrs. Sachs watched her face. 'Janey, there's something I want you to listen to.'

She fed a disc into the player, and went and looked out of the window. A silver voice, pure, lifted into the quiet room. It spoke of loving and happiness and then, soaring passionately, of the frailty and futility of human hope.

Janey, perched on the edge of her chair, anxious to escape, sank back. She felt as though her whole life was splintering into pieces. Incredible that a voice, a single voice, could say so much about living and being human, could express her own deepest feelings.

Finally, the voice, doomed and tragic, faded and Janey found her cheeks were wet with tears. She brushed them away hastily and breathed deeply. Mrs. Sachs continued to look out of the window. The silence lengthened.

'Who was that?' Janey's voice was husky.

'Maria Callas. Janey, I want to make one final appeal, and I don't know what to say to you. I know you have put off making a decision about going on to College because you're frightened of music becoming too important to you, and you are scared of competition. I know you are nervous and don't enjoy performing at the moment. But Janey...' She turned round and stared at her. 'I have to tell you that it is very likely that one day, with very hard work, training and dedication, you could sing like Callas.'

Janey drew a deep breath. She laughed uncertainly. The woman was barking mad. Or joking. 'Sing like that?'

'You don't believe me. Well, I know I haven't said anything before. I don't like to raise hopes and give people swelled heads, but there's certainly no danger of that with you! I've been teaching music for nearly twenty-three years and it's never happened before. I've never had a pupil I knew, definitely, had that indefinable extra something to get to the very top. Oh, I've had good, excellent musicians, singers even, through this school. Some are well-known professionals now. Well, you know how good Ronnie Craig is. But your voice is special. You must develop it. You must use your great gift. God forgive you if you become a typist when you could sing like that for the people of the world. You'll regret it bitterly one day if you don't take up the challenge now.'

Her intense voice, full of conviction, upset Janey more than all the weeks of thinking and worrying. She did not feel like laughing now.

'You really believe that, don't you? You're not joking!'

'Not joking at all.'

'But....'

'Go and get changed. You've got to be totally committed. There are no half-measures. You've got to accept it fully.'

'But I don't want to! ' wailed Janey. 'I don't want to be a great singer...'

Her voice trailed away, as she remembered Callas' voice and suddenly she knew she was lying. To sing like that.... how much would she be prepared to sacrifice?

Mrs. Sachs said, inexorably, "Janey, you're chosen."

Janey looked back at her wildly, got to her feet and walked out.

Chapter 3