‘Right, we are going out this evening, children,’ Song announced, once they’d dropped their other passengers home. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that, despite Van’s best efforts to talk to Kensy, and Ellery whining that she was likely to have a bruise where Curtis had whacked her with his shoe bag, the twins had hardly said a word the whole way home.
‘Where?’ Max asked flatly. Like his sister, his mind had been on his parents ever since leaving school.
Song grinned. ‘It is a surprise. We are doing something I never imagined I would, followed by a delicious meal – but we must hurry. You need to change and then we are off!’
‘Are you just trying to keep us busy so we don’t have time to think about Fitz?’ Kensy asked.
Song frowned and shook his head. ‘I have no idea what Mr Fitz’s current engagement entails.’
‘Of course you do. I bet you know exactly what’s going on,’ Max said. ‘I mean, Granny probably trusts you and Sidney more than anyone.’
‘Confucius says you cannot open a book without learning something,’ Song replied. ‘Similarly, you cannot live in this household without knowing a little. But a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, so perhaps it is best to stay in the dark. Please, children, I promise we will have an enjoyable evening and the time will pass much more quickly and then tomorrow we have all the excitement of the concert at the Sydney Opera House, no less.’
‘If you say so,’ Kensy sighed, trudging up to her room.
Meanwhile, Curtis pushed a trolley down a supermarket aisle, deep in thought. His mother had insisted he help her, but he was dying to get home. He had an idea that he was keen to share with Kensy and Max.
A half-hour later, having unpacked the groceries, Curtis asked his mother if he could go next door. With his backpack fully stocked, he stood on the porch at number two and rang the buzzer. He waited an age but no one came. Curtis took a deep breath. Having Kensy and Max by his side would have been a bonus, but if they weren’t available, he’d just have to go it alone.
‘I look ridiculous,’ Kensy griped as they hurried up the Opera House steps. She tugged at her skirt, wishing she could have worn pants.
‘You look great,’ Max said, adjusting his bow tie. ‘I mean it.’
Kensy shot him a smile. ‘I feel sorry for you in that suit. You must be so hot and, no, for your information I didn’t say you looked hot.’
‘You both look very smart,’ Song said. ‘I would like to take a photograph for your grandmother and Mr Fitz. Let’s see if we can manage to get the bridge in the background too.’
Last night, the children and Song had climbed the Harbour Bridge at twilight. The view was breathtaking with the western sunset and the sparkling city lights. They then had dinner at one of Song’s favourite restaurants, where the dumplings were even better than his – if that was possible. The children had loved every minute and were glad that Song had organised to take them out.
Song snapped a couple of shots before the twins insisted he hop in too and master the art of the selfie. After several misfires, they finally got a picture with all of them in the frame.
Max glanced at his watch. ‘We better head in before Mr Thacker has an aneurysm.’
The trio entered the foyer, where there were already hundreds of children and parents milling about. There was an undeniable buzz in the air. Max and Kensy went to join their choir while Song spotted Curtis’s parents and walked over to say hello. Van gasped when he saw Kensy.
The girl shook her head vigorously and pointed her finger at him. ‘Don’t you dare say a word,’ she warned.
Van frowned in confusion and was swiftly whisked out of harm’s way by Max.
‘Someone’s feeling the heat,’ Kensy said to Curtis, when she noticed the trail of perspiration running down their headmaster’s temples. Ms Skidmore was prancing about, checking that everyone looked perfect.
‘And so he should,’ the boy replied mysteriously. ‘I know what he’s up to.’
Kensy looked at the lad. ‘We think we know what he’s up to, but we don’t have any proof.’
‘I do,’ Curtis said with a glint in his eye. But before he could say another word, Miss Sparks declared that all singers needed to assemble backstage. The bells were ringing too, signalling for audience members to take their seats.
Kensy noticed Curtis had his trusty backpack with him, which clashed horribly with his tuxedo. She wondered what he thought he might need for the concert.
‘Right,’ the headmaster hissed, ‘I don’t want to hear one peep out of any of you unless we’re warming up or on stage singing. Voice preservation is the name of the game from here on in and, if I see anyone flouting the rules, you will be on playground beautification for the rest of the term.’
The children were led through a series of backstage doors and down a labyrinth of tunnels to a large dressing room, where there were several other schools already waiting. The stage manager read the list of performances in order, with Wentworth Grammar scheduled last of all. In total, there were twelve choirs, which was apparently a lot less than previous years due to the competition being brought so far forward.
Kensy and Curtis sat in the corner so they could continue their conversation, hoping that the other children would provide cover, but Mr Thacker had eyes everywhere. Miss Sparks and Ms Skidmore were patrolling like commandants. At one point Kensy opened her mouth and was shushed by both of them before she’d uttered a word. Soon enough Mr Thacker directed the children to another rehearsal space to warm up, where they were he-heing, ha-haing and mo-moing with gusto.
Twenty minutes later, the group were called to line up at the side of stage. The twins saw the interior of the vast Concert Hall for the first time with its soaring geometrical ceiling, odd-looking acoustic treatments that resembled transparent donuts hanging on thin wires, and rows of red seats that seemed to rise into the heavens.
‘Wow!’ Max gasped, garnering himself a glare from Ms Skidmore.
The audience was in raptures for the choir that had just performed and the woman out the front was taking an awful lot of bows.
‘Thank you, Miss Stephenson and the remarkable Stonehurst Singers!’ The emcee grinned widely, revealing a mouthful of gleaming white teeth, as the group filed off to the right and the Wentworth Grammar Choristers entered from stage left.
Thaddeus Thacker assumed his position at the podium while Mrs Strump took her place at the piano. The children quickly filed onto the risers and Kensy scanned the audience for Song. Curtis nudged her when he spotted the man next to his parents. The Chalmers were in the same row a little further along.
Mr Thacker raised his hand in the air and the music began. Eight and a half minutes later, with Dugald and Lucienne’s voices stealing the show, they were enveloped by resounding applause. Mr Thacker’s grin couldn’t have been any wider.
‘We have come to the end of the program,’ the emcee declared. ‘You may have noticed that all of the choirs are now seated in the boxes either side of the stage. Wentworth Grammar Choristers, please take the seats directly behind you and, while we await the adjudication, we will be treated to an organ solo of JS Bach’s “Toccata and Fugue in D Minor” from the talented Miss Kitty Warburton.’
There was a small groan from the audience as several people were obviously aware of the rather lengthy nature of the piece. The children sat in silence, watching and waiting. Kensy noticed that, despite her stylish appearance in a very pretty floral dress, Tinsley Chalmers looked as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. When Dash reached across for his wife’s hand, the woman visibly flinched before taking it. Finally, the emcee walked to the podium to announce the winner. Thaddeus Thacker sat at the end of the row, poised to leap up and accept the prize. His archnemesis, Simone Stephenson, flashed him a strange smile.
‘Well, ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, what a stunning competition we have had.’ The emcee exhaled dramatically. ‘I can barely believe the result. The stronghold, it seems, has been broken.’ Thaddeus Thacker took in a sharp breath as Simone Stephenson’s smug expression melted from her face. ‘This year’s equal runners-up are the Wentworth Grammar Choristers and the Stonehurst Singers.’ The man’s voice reached a crescendo, which was met with rousing applause.
‘We came second – that’s pretty good,’ Max said to Van.
‘And now it gives me the greatest of pleasure to announce the winner of the Sydney Choral Competition, on their first attempt, is the Dingley Academy Choir.’ The emcee clapped enthusiastically. The small group that had performed early on in the program were seated in the furthest corner from the stage. The significance of the win was not lost on them or their young choir master. The man was fist-pumping the air while the children were squealing and hugging each other.
Thaddeus Thacker’s baton snapped in his hand. ‘I demand a recount!’ he yelled.
‘Me too!’ Simone Stephenson said, shooting out of her seat.
There was a gasp from the audience.
‘That’s not exactly the sort of behaviour I’d expected to see here,’ Max whispered to Van, who was doing his best not to laugh.
The emcee chortled nervously and looked into the wings for some indication as to what to do. ‘Mr Thacker, Miss Stephenson, please take your seats,’ he said uncertainly.
Thaddeus stamped his foot like a petulant child. ‘She stole my best singers by offering them scholarships to Stonehurst,’ he accused, pointing a finger at Simone Stephenson.
The woman rolled her eyes. ‘Thaddeus, I didn’t steal them – I saw an opportunity, that’s all, darling.’
‘Darling?’ The word was loudly repeated by half the audience.
To the side of the stage, Divorah Skidmore looked as if she’d swallowed a toad. Had that woman, Thaddeus’s sworn enemy, just called him ‘darling’?
Curtis Pepper couldn’t contain himself any longer. He leapt to his feet. ‘Mr Thacker paid Dugald McCrae and Lucienne Russo to sing in our choir,’ he said loudly.
Dugald’s plump face turned the colour of beetroot while Lucienne slunk down as far as she could in her seat.
The gasps grew louder.
‘You can’t say that, we don’t have any proof,’ Kensy said. She tugged on Curtis’s trousers to get him to sit down.
‘I have evidence,’ he declared, pulling out a wad of papers from his pants pocket. He held them aloft.
‘What’s that?’ Kensy asked.
‘I broke into Mr Thacker’s office and it was all there,’ the boy replied in hushed tones.
Kensy grinned at the lad. ‘So, you finally got to use those skeleton keys.’
Curtis didn’t have the heart to tell her that the cleaner let him in because he said he’d left something he needed for the concert inside.
It wasn’t long before the parents began calling foul and demanding that Wentworth Grammar and Stonehurst be disqualified.
‘The lad’s delirious,’ Thaddeus declared. He looked over at Simone Stephenson. ‘Sit down, my love. We’ll talk about it at home.’
That came as an even bigger shock.
‘Are you married or something?’ one of the children called out.
‘Something like that,’ Thaddeus said.
‘We thought you hated each other,’ another child yelled.
‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ Simone Stephenson replied with a wry grin. ‘A bit of healthy com petition does wonders for a relationship.’
That was the final straw for Divorah. She strode out of the wings and onto the stage. ‘Curtis Pepper is telling the truth,’ she said, casting the headmaster a look that would have shrivelled grapes. ‘Mr Thacker paid those two children, both of whom are professional singers and have been working overseas for the past couple of years. Thaddeus cheated and, I am ashamed to say, I helped him.’ Divorah then turned and fled from the stage as the Dingley Academy Choir reached the emcee.
The man tugged at his bow tie and ran a hand through his shiny black hair. ‘Well, what an interesting … um, interesting, um … yes, let’s move on, shall we? I believe the judges are going to make another announcement about the runners-up. In the meantime, let’s not allow what’s just happened to overshadow this glorious moment for the Dingley Academy Choir.’
‘Wow, Curtis, I can’t believe you did that,’ Max whispered, leaning forward to squeeze the lad’s shoulder.
Kensy followed up with a jab to Curtis’s arm. ‘That was so brave,’ she said proudly. ‘You’re amazing.’
Van gazed adoringly at the girl. ‘Not as amazing as you are, Kensington Grey,’ he said. Fortunately for him, the first bars of the Dingley Academy encore drowned out his words and Kensy was none the wiser.