Chapter 7: Sarah

I catch my bottom lip between my teeth, a youthful habit when uncertain that I have never quite manage to loose. This cannot be happening. Holly is the sweetest, kindest guy, so easy to get along with. He's funny, he's thoughtful, he's attractive in a bishounen sort of a way. So where is the spark?

“Hmm,” I murmur, hoping that I am masking my ambivalence, “I'm not sure what I thought about that. Maybe we should try again?”

“Experiment,” Holly agrees. “Try a few variations.”

“Variations?” I hope he means it as a musicians' joke, and not tongues. Kissing Holly had felt like kissing one of my brothers, and the thought of anything more intimate is making me feel a little queasy right now.

“Oh, you know. Standing under a sundial, standing under a tree, standing under the arches, standing under the mistletoe...”

“A little out of season for that one.” I deliberately ignore the implication that we will still be dating at Christmas. Surely I should give him a chance, though? In almost every way he is my perfect man, maybe he'll grow on me?

“There's a tree right there, though, we could try the second one?” Holly holds out a hand. Resolving to make an effort, I l**k his hand with mine. Three dates, I decide. I'll go on three dates with him, and if the romance isn't enough to awaken the desire I dream of, I'll come clean with him and admit it's not working for me.

***

I worry that the next rehearsal will be awkward between Holly and I, or between Francesca, Holly and I. My fears in that respect are unfounded. Our friendship is still comfortable and solid despite the change in dynamic. A problem does arise, but for an entirely different reason.

The director comes in at the end of the rehearsal, just as Roberto is about to let us go. Nick Hall doesn't have anything at all to do with the rehearsals. He’s not a musician, he's an accountant by training. He does seem to have the orchestra's best interests at heart, not just as a business concern but as a collection of talented and, at times, temperamental individuals. His appearance now creates a stir of unease nevertheless, simply because it is so out of character for him. He claps his hands for silence, and then beams at us. This is not as reassuring as he probably imagines.

“We've been getting excellent reviews,” he begins. “You've all been doing a splendid job. This season has been our most successful season ever!”

“Do we get a raise?” quips a voice at the back, which is not as anonymous as it might be, because in this orchestra if you are at the back you are either a trombonist or playing percussion.

Nick chuckles. “That's for the board to decide, not me, I'm afraid. I've recommended an end-of-run bonus.” That earns him a short burst of applause. “I do have other good news. Thanks to the generosity of one of our sponsors, you are all invited to enjoy a day out at a polo match!”

The announcement doesn't get quite the reaction I think he was anticipating. At least half the orchestra are likely wondering why we would want to spend our free time sitting watching a swimming pool.

“Come on, come on, a polo match!” Nick flaps upwards with his hands like one of those people who tell the audience for a TV sitcom when they are supposed to laugh. “Chasing a ball on horseback and free champagne and an open buffet!”

Comprehension settles through the room.

“Just to add a competitive edge,” Nick continues, his eyes sweeping the assembly until they find the woodwind section, “the orchestra is going to provide its own team.”

Oh-oh, I think, turning to look at the bassoons. As I thought. David is particularly smug.

Nick confirms my suspicions. “Our very own David Delaney has suggested appropriate riders: himself, Francesca Bennett, Wiktor Kowalski and Sarah de Montfort!”

Francesca is a keen rider in the little free time she has- mainly between seasons- and I think Wiktor is too. I'm pretty sure they've both competed at amateur show jumping. I am willing to bet that David thinks he's a good rider as well.

David looks directly at me, a mocking smile on his face. 'Gotcha,' his expression says. I turn away so he can't see my reaction. Nick is still talking, giving details about the date and time, transport and dress code. The hall is required to close on what would normally be a performance day, for routine electrical testing, so the match is scheduled for then. The four named riders are to meet now for additional information.

I should probably refuse. David will expect me to refuse. He almost certainly has a plan to make sure that refusal is not an option. I am even more certain of this when, despite my efforts to avoid him, he manages to get me to one side while most of the orchestra is straggling out from the hall. I glare at him.

“You want me to ride a horse.” My voice is flat with incredulity.

David's grin widens. “Oh, didn't you learn to ride 'down in the ghetto'?” He actually makes finger quotes. “Never mind. I'm sure you'll pick it up quickly. It's really not hard.”

I have to fight to keep my thoughts from showing on my face. David is completely out of line this time. This is not one of the casual micro-aggressions that are his usual fare. This is straight-up bullying. He is deliberately trying to make me look ridiculous, in front of the entire orchestra and probably the entire management and all the sponsors as well, by putting me on a horse and shoving me into a polo match. There is just one thing he clearly hasn't realised.

I can ride.

Oh, Tony would say I am barely mediocre on a horse, but he judges riders to a rather different standard than most, because he coaches the British Equestrian Team and was an Olympic rider himself until an accident left him partially paralyzed. Katie has six Olympic gold medals in the Horse Trials. Little brother Timothy is expected to make it onto the team for the next one, and is already beating his mother at five star events. I have been sitting on horses since the day Toby and I first visited Blackmarsh, Tony and Katie's place and my heart's true home. The sort of horses that expect you to ride well, and will probably throw you off if you don't. I have even played a bit of polo- my godfather taught my bothers and I, and Katie when she wasn't too busy.

David's plan is not going to work as he intended it to. The question is, can I turn the tables, and make him look bad instead?

I look back up at David, who has taken my silence for horror. “I can't believe you would do something like this,” I say, anger colouring my voice, because none of his behaviour is acceptable regardless of whether I suffer as a result. I turn and stalk off before I can give myself away and pointedly stand on the far side of the group while Nick outlines what 'the team' needs to know. There is some sort of induction first and the polo club will be loaning us polo ponies and clothing, is what it amounts to.

As soon as it is done, I drag Francesca off to find Holly. Between us I'm sure we can come up with a plan that will make David appear utterly ridiculous.