Composing Love

Wicked Publishing

© 2018 by Ronni Meyrick

1st Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance of actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission

Dedication

To my wife, Kay. Your unwavering support and love enrich my life every day. I’d be lost without you.

To my parents. Mum, you always encourage me to try my hardest and learn from my mistakes. Dad, I hope I’m making you proud. I miss you.

To the newest member of the family, Amelia. My first great-niece. My lovely little smasher, your smile fills my heart with joy and lifts my spirits when I’m struggling with a scene.

I love you all!

Acknowledgements

All authors would agree that we’d be lost without our beta readers. A huge thank you to Debs Arminshaw, Syd Sexton, Ratna Summers, and Kristen Webber. Much love and huge hugs sent to you all!

My terrible twin, Kate Charlton. Little Dude, you’re a lifesaver in more ways than one. Thank you for always being at the end of the phone whenever I need to vent or talk something through.

Shiralyn Lee & Dawn Carter. As always, a girl couldn’t ask for better mentors, bosses, or friends. Thank you again for everything you’ve been teaching me. You rock. Lots of Love and hugs.

Janice Foster, you put up with my calls in the morning to speak to Shiralyn, and I know the time difference is a pain in the butt, LOL. You’re one in a million, love always, and forever your friend, Da Do Ron Ron. Xx

To my editor, Jess Bennett. Thank you for all you help and words of wisdom on this project.

Chapter One

Heat from the large stage lights formed a fine sheen of sweat on Billy Christian’s forehead as the final scene unfolded in front of her. Violetta Valéry, the young courtesan, was on her deathbed, and her suitor, the deeply romantic yet foolish Alfredo Germont, was begging for forgiveness.

A strong aroma of pine from the violin rosin mixed with the metallic smell of brass valve oil tickled her nose. Her arms were heavy from exhaustion, but La traviata was one of her favourite operas to conduct. Aficionados and critics had already described her performance as spirited and passionate. Her gusto didn’t change through the whole three acts, and unsurprisingly, a fortnight of high-intense, emotional, yet gratifying expressionism had taken its toll… But she couldn’t resist the invitation to work with Elizabeth Knight, one of the world’s most renowned sopranos.

Her attention returned to the stage. Elizabeth’s final note was perfect. It made Billy shiver and the hairs on her arms stand on end. With a sudden stumble, the leading lady cut the note and fell into the arms of Carlo Giovanni, who played the role of Alfredo. Elizabeth’s chest stilled as she held her breath to simulate the death of Violetta.

With a final flourish of her baton, Billy stopped the orchestra. They fell silent, the curtain dropped, and a cacophony of ear-splitting applause hit her from behind.

Her fingers trembled as she laid the baton on top of the sheets of music laid out on the lectern in front of her. With every ounce of will she had in her being, she stopped herself from shaking. Excitement coursed through her body, and endorphins ran rampant through her veins. A wide Cheshire cat grin formed on her lips and became a beaming smile when she held her arms up and motioned for her orchestra to stand.

You’re all amazing; thank you for such a glorious fortnight. Billy placed her arms at her side. The applause for her musicians warmed her heart.

The stage curtain rose and the cast stepped forward to take their final bows. Her gaze searched the stage for the petite redhead with the light green eyes. Where are you, Elizabeth?

The sound of applause tripled in appreciation as Carlo and Elizabeth split from the line of performers and walked onto the stage. Elizabeth’s grin was infectious as she bowed to the orchestra. She curled her hands against her heart in thanks, then turned and curtsied to the audience.

Billy twitched. Her eardrums rattled. The manager of the Royal Opera House strode out onto the stage with a spray of red roses laid over his arm and presented them to Elizabeth.

Carlo stepped forward and the crowd’s level of appreciation dropped. Billy smothered a grin with her hand when she saw the short middle-aged man’s fists clench. He took his place in the line of cast and glanced down into the pit to glare at Billy. Oh boy, the Diva is pissed. I wonder what shit he’s going to spout off this time!

Carlo Giovanni was the biggest pain in the backside she’d ever worked with. Every time he messed up he claimed the orchestra was playing the wrong notes or Billy was keeping time incorrectly. In the end, the management team had told him he needed to seek help from a singing coach until the run ended or he was out of a job.

Billy smirked and batted her eyelashes. What an arsehole! But I’ve got to play nice if I ever want to perform with Elizabeth again. But, Carlo, I can do without him and all the troubles he brings me. From the day they’d met, she’d been taking an arsenal of medication to combat the headaches he caused. I think he makes it his mission in life to be a prick. She turned her attention back to her leading lady.

Elizabeth held her hand out to Billy and motioned for her to join them onstage. Billy swallowed against her suddenly dry throat as she stepped down from her rostrum and walked to the steps that would take her onto the main platform.

When her foot came into contact with the sprung wooden floor, Elizabeth rushed over to meet her and led her to where the cast were waiting. A young sandy-haired technician ran up to Elizabeth and gave her a microphone.

Our performance over the last two weeks has been made extra special thanks to this wonderful woman. If it wasn’t for Billy Christian and the fabulous musicians of the London Philharmonic Orchestra, we wouldn’t have been encouraged to let our voices soar. Elizabeth handed her a rose freed from the bouquet and kissed her cheek. On a personal note, she whispered, angling the mic away from her lips. Thank you. You’ve been a dream to work with and I hope we can do it again soon. You’ve been amazing.

Billy’s hand rose to touch the spot where Elizabeth’s lips had been. Belatedly, she realised what she was doing and snapped it back to rest at her side. It was my pleasure, Ms. Knight. She took a step forward when she heard the small whistle from the stagehand controlling the curtain. The heavy red velvet, decorated with gold tassels and detailing, slowly descended, creating a wall between Billy and the rest of the cast. But she didn’t miss the small wink from Elizabeth before they were separated.

She jumped back down into the pit to collect her music and baton with a silly smile on her face. She thanked the orchestra for all its hard work and promised that if she was ever in need of a London-based orchestra, she’d come to them first. It was always a privilege to work with people who obviously loved the profession as much as she did.

She was about to leave the pit when she saw Carlo stomping toward her from the side of the stage. His gaze was unwavering as he glared at her.

Here we go!

Billy forced a smile onto her lips. That was a great performance, Carlo. Well done. You’re a bloody liar, Billy Christian.

He stopped an inch away from her and puffed out his chest. As he was nearly half a foot shorter than her six-foot frame, it was less than impressive. "What do you mean great? My final piece was ruined by an over-zealous section of strings that were trying to drown me out!" He rested his hands on his hips.

She smothered a laugh as she wiped at her mouth. Excuse me?

"You heard me! What I’d like to know is why you allowed it to happen. You’re the conductor…The great Belinda Christian! Carlo waved his hand in the air and swirled it around with exuberance. Surely you can control them. If not, then I strongly advise a quick career evaluation, my dear."

His condescending tone was the final straw. A hot flush rose from her neck to cover her face, and her clenched fists shook as she placed her things back on the rostrum. Billy closed the gap between them and jabbed her finger in Carlo’s face. "Listen carefully, Mr. Giovanni! I’ve put up with your stupid diva attitude for the last two weeks and I’ve had enough! She forced herself to take a deep breath and expelled it loudly, nostrils flaring. The reason your last aria sounded awful was because you were off-key. It’s neither my nor my orchestra’s fault. If you want someone to blame, blame yourself. Christ only knows how you managed to land this role, but I sincerely hope whoever you had to sleep with was worth it. When the reviews hit the papers tomorrow, you’ll be lucky if you ever sing opera in public again!" Billy’s chest rose and fell as her heart beat wildly in her chest. A sharp, stabbing pain lanced behind her eyes and she had to fight the urge to grab her head.

How dare you! Saliva flew from Carlo’s mouth and gathered at the corners of his lips. Do you have any idea who I am? I’ve never been spoken to that way in my entire life. Carlo was as red as the stage curtain.

Well, it’s about time someone put you in your place!

My critics say I could be the next opera sensation, Carlo snarled, but his expression faltered as a deep rumble emanated from Billy’s throat.

I hate to burst your bubble, but I’ve worked with some of the best classically-trained singers in the business, and I can safely say none of them have been such a pain in the arse. Billy ticked her fingers as she spoke. You’re constantly late for rehearsals. When you flounce into the room, you immediately berate and belittle your supporting cast and my orchestra. You swan around making demands like it’s the Carlo Giovanni one-man show. She poked his chest hard enough to push him back a step. Well, buddy boy, it isn’t! The only reason you haven’t tried your little mind tricks and games on Elizabeth is because you know she can destroy your entire career. Well, here’s a newsflash—so can I! She ran her shaking hands through her short, jet-black hair and once again picked her things up. I’m done with you. Good evening, Mr. Giovanni.

Wait a minute, you stuck-up bitch! Carlo grasped her shoulder and spun her around. Billy threw his hand off.

Don’t touch me! she snapped.

You’ll be sorry you ever spoke to me this way. I’ve friends in this business and I’ll make it my mission to ensure you never work again. Carlo took a step back as a sneer curled at his lips.

Billy shook her head and chuckled. That’s where you’re wrong, Carlo. I’ve a contract to compose and perform a new piece for a movie that’s going to be released in six months. I also have a standing agreement with the Royal British Legion to help put together their evening Service of Remembrance at The Royal Albert Hall. There are opera and ballet companies pounding down my door to have me conduct their productions. There’s also a rumour I’m going to be asked to put together The Proms for next year. So tell me, my friend, who’s the one that’s going to be at the bottom of the pile when all of this is going on…because it sure isn’t going to be me! As she listed her upcoming work schedule, Carlo’s mouth dropped open. If I’m ever in need of a tenor to sing an aria in any of my future projects—it won’t be you I call. With her final parting shot, Billy spun smartly on her heels and stormed off. But she couldn’t resist one more little barb. Good night, Carlo. I’m praying we don’t ever cross paths again, she called over her shoulder.

She reached the side of the stage, where her manager Vanessa Gale was waiting for her.

You’re nothing but a rug-munching, malodorous dyke! Carlo yelled from where she’d left him in the pit.

Billy gritted her teeth and with a feral, almost wolfish growl, turned to confront him once again. But a small hand squeezed her arm like a vice. Let me go! Billy hissed.

No, you’ll only give him fodder for a lawsuit if you punch him. Vanessa wrapped her arm around Billy’s shoulders and offered her the large takeaway cup of coffee she was holding. Come on, he’s not worth it. As soon as word spreads about his behaviour tonight... Well, he pretty much just committed career suicide.

You’re right. Thanks for stopping me from doing something foolish. Another jagged lance of pain struck. With her free hand, she gripped the top of her head and doubled over to fight the sudden onslaught of nausea. Her once-organised sheets of music fell and scattered over the floor. She barely had the wherewithal to keep hold of her most prized possession, the baton her parents had gifted her when she graduated from the Royal Academy of Music with her Master’s degree.

Vanessa took it from her before she could poke her own eye out. Not again… This is getting to be too much now! She bent and gathered the music before she took hold of Billy’s arm and led her through the maze of corridors and people to her small dressing room. Once inside, she seated her in the nearest chair and kicked the door shut. I’m going to get you some painkillers and then I’m taking you to the hospital. This has been happening far too often.

Billy took the coffee cup and guzzled down a few mouthfuls, then waved her off. It’s nothing. I’ve just been working like crazy and my diet hasn’t been ideal. She paused to rub her head and squinted as she tried to focus on Vanessa’s face. She had no choice but to shut her eyes when the pain ratcheted up. I need to get myself back on track, start going to the gym again, and get about a month’s worth of sleep. The whole farce with Carlo hasn’t helped.

Even before that, you were having at least two headaches a week. Vanessa reached into her briefcase and pulled out a box of paracetamol. She gave her two tablets and replaced the coffee with a bottle of water. This doesn’t help either. You’re drinking too much caffeine. I’m not going to continue enabling you.

The pills left a bitter taste in her mouth when they hit her tongue and began to dissolve. She chased them with half of the water. I need some rest, that’s all. A splash of colour on the small vanity table drew Billy’s attention. Where did that come from? she muttered.

She stumbled out of her chair and reached for the single blood-red rose that had been stood up against the mirror. A small piece of paper was folded around the stem and secured with a thin elastic band.

Billy,

Congratulations on dealing with the biggest idiot the opera world has ever known! I witnessed it from the side of the stage along with several other cast members. You now have a bigger fan club and I’m your number one member. It was about time someone put him in his place, and for that you deserve another rose. Thank you! I hope we work together again soon. It was a true honour and a pleasure.

Thanks again.

From,

Elizabeth. Xx

Wow. It’s from Elizabeth Knight thanking me for having a go at Carlo. Billy fanned her face with the note and opened the top button of her shirt. It sure is hot in here. She slipped her arms out of her heavy suit jacket, tugged the material away from her body, and threw it on top of the suit bag. I…Vaness— The room spun and she grabbed her head. The white detailing swirled with the red in the carpet like a huge kaleidoscope as she spiralled to the ground. She closed her eyes and felt the soft high-count thread thud against her cheek. Everything went black and she lost her connection to the world as the darkness enveloped her.

Billy! Vanessa fell to her knees at her side and cradled Billy’s head in her lap. She rummaged in her pocket for her phone and laid her free hand on her friend’s grey and clammy face. With three quick taps, she raised the phone to her ear. Can I have an ambulance? Her eyes were drawn to the prone figure on the floor as Billy moaned. It’s okay. I’m getting you some help.

Billy heard the words but her eyes refused to open.

I think I’ll just take a little nap.

Chapter Two

The combined scent of roses and lilies filled her dressing room and permeated the