The missing solo

Source: an original fiction extract.

The choir list was pinned beside the rehearsal-room door. Bea read the names once, then again more slowly. The solo in the winter concert had gone to Kit. She had practised it every evening for a fortnight, sometimes quietly enough that her younger brother complained he could hear only the same six words through the wall. Kit stood at the far end of the corridor drinking water. Bea wanted him to look pleased so she could dislike him properly. He looked anxious instead. She walked past without saying anything.

During rehearsal she sang the ensemble passages accurately and without warmth. When Kit missed his entrance, she found her place in the music with unnecessary speed. Their conductor stopped them and repeated the introduction. Kit entered correctly the second time but lost the final note. Bea knew exactly where his breath had failed. She had made the same mistake all week until she learned to begin the phrase more gently. She looked down at the pencil mark she had drawn above it. When rehearsal ended, she closed the folder before he could see.

In the corridor, Kit asked whether she had a spare copy of the music. His printer had cut off the bottom line. Bea said there were copies in the office. He explained that it was locked. She could have lent him hers and copied another the following day. Instead she said she needed it. On the bus, the folder lay unopened on her knees. She imagined the concert going badly and the conductor realising that the wrong singer had been chosen. For a moment the picture satisfied her. Then she imagined the rest of the choir standing around the mistake.

The next afternoon she brought two copies. She gave one to Kit and pointed out the breath mark without explaining how long it had taken her to find it. He tried the phrase in the empty room. It improved, though the last note still shook. He asked whether she would listen again. Bea said she had ten minutes. They used fifteen. When the conductor arrived, Kit said Bea had helped him. Bea felt pleased, then embarrassed by how quickly she had become pleased. The conductor thanked her and asked them both to take their places.

At the concert, Kit's first note was clear. Bea watched the conductor's hand and waited for the ensemble to enter. The solo sounded different from the version she had practised: less forceful, but lighter in the middle phrase. She did not decide whether that made it better. Afterwards, Kit thanked her again. She said the last note had worked. At home, her brother asked whether she had sung her six words. She said someone else had sung them this time, then opened her folder to the next piece. The pencil mark was still on the old page.

Consider the whole source. A reader said: “The writer makes Bea’s jealousy recognisable without excusing her unkindness. Her decision to help is convincing because it does not require her to stop feeling disappointed.” Evaluate how far you agree. Support your judgement with detailed references to the text and the writer’s methods.