Her heart raced, as if she were about to set foot on a tight-rope.
She could see some of the faces in the crowd now, thousands of them, emerging from the dark.
Tiny and strange, the clothed bodies almost invisible. She was staring out at twenty thousand disembodied heads.
Her mouth was dry. She could hardly speak, so wondered how she was going to sing.
She remembered Dan mock-wincing as she’d sung for him. The noise of the crowd subsided.
It was time. “Right,” she said. “Here is a song you might have heard before.”
This was a stupid thing to say, she realised. They had all paid tickets for this concert presumably,
because they had heard a lot of these songs before.
“It’s a song that means a lot to me and my brother.” Already the place was erupting.
They screamed and roared and clapped and chanted. The response was phenomenal.
She felt, momentarily, like Cleopatra. An utterly terrified Cleopatra.
Adjusting her hands into position for E-flat major,
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