'But I need you to help me get set up,' she said, which wasn't true. What was true was that she didn't want to leave her comfortable new home and be so far away from him.
'Relax,' he said with an unreadable smile. 'I'll be coming with you.'
The recording got done, but it was very nearly a complete disaster. Pamela found that she was simply not equipped to handle the pressure and demands of performing with a full choir and orchestra. The sectional singing was not a problem but a bad case of nerves early on very nearly finished her big solo. The director, a kind, patient, worldly old gentleman, who had seen and dealt with all manner of temperaments and mishaps, was able to coax her through it, but in the end she knew with certainty that her short career as a professional soloist was finished.
During the return flight she felt absolutely mortified, having let Theo down after all the trouble he had gone to. She spent the time pretending to look out the window. In truth she averted her gaze because she didn't dare face him. And how was she going to be able to face everyone at home? She had let them down too. At the moment, all she wanted was to cry and die at the same time, which she knew sounded silly, but it was exactly how she felt.
She rode the rest of the way home with Theo in miserable silence.
That evening, sharing a late supper in the staff dining-room with Mrs. Pascoe, who had waited up for her, Pamela was thoughtful for a long time, her thoughts mainly concerned with Theo. He had shown no disappointment over her poor performance but he had offered her no encouragement either. That was so like his treatment of her, if you could call it that. He was always there, solid, strong, reliable, daunting and unshakable, but it seemed also that he was never there, at least for her. It often made her wonder, as it did now, why he bothered to be there at all. And he was always watching her, somewhat speculatively, with a half-amused quirk to his lips. When he did that, she found herself writhing, yet part of her wanted to fling herself at him in the vain hope that he would take her in his arms. That he would hold her, that he would do something to remove the niggling worm of doubt and angst that ate at her, that he would kiss her, that he would-
'A penny. Pamela Dee, you're blushing like a schoolgirl!'