CHAPTER THREE

“Can you take over for Lewis?” asked Albert’s father as soon as Albert entered the cabin.

Albert stared at his father. “Me?”

“Lewis isn’t feeling well. The bandmaster wants you to play in Lewis’s place. It’s a great honour, son.”

Albert had always wanted to play with the Staff Band, but he never thought he’d have a chance so soon. Could he do it? He knew all the songs they played, so why was his heart pounding? Albert took a deep breath. “Okay,” he told his father.

“Good. Make me proud, son.” His father shook his hand.

“I’ll try my best, Father.”

“Let’s go.”

Albert followed his father out of the cabin, down the hall and up to the Promenade deck. His stomach knotted as he stood beside his father and uncle. He wanted to play well.

A large group of passengers had gathered to hear them. Albert looked out at the crowd. Grace was in the front row, smiling at him. She waved as the bandmaster gave the signal to begin.

Albert lifted his cornet to his mouth. The crowd broke into loud applause as soon as the first notes rang out. Many knew the song — “O Canada.” Some, including Grace, sang along. To Albert’s relief, he hit all the right notes.

After “O Canada,” the band played another familiar song: “Auld Lang Syne.” The audience burst into applause again. It wasn’t New Year’s, of course — the traditional time to sing it — and they weren’t saying goodbye to the old year, but they were saying goodbye to Canada.

Albert had always liked the melody of “Auld Lang Syne,” but he thought the words were strange. Why should anyone forget old friends and acquaintances just because it was a new year, or like now, because they were taking a trip? He didn’t want to forget his friends, and he didn’t want them to forget him. He already missed his best friend from school.

The Empress was ready to pull away from the Quebec City dock. The bandmaster signalled to begin the last song, a hymn. Albert lifted his cornet again. Grace waved to him. Then she drew her lips up and made a funny face. Albert looked away so he wouldn’t laugh. As he did, his hat slid down all the way to his nose. His face turned as red as his uniform. His fingers slipped off the keys and his cornet squeaked. His father shot him a look. Albert quickly shoved his hat back into position. His hand shook as he picked up the song.

He didn’t look at Grace this time. He didn’t look at anyone. He’d been so excited to play with the band, and now he’d made a mistake. What would his father say to him? Would the bandmaster ever let him play with them again?

The audience sang along to the hymn. They sang his mother’s favourite line: “God be with you till we meet again.” His mother had said those words when he hugged her goodbye a week earlier. “I’ll miss you, Albert,” she’d said, wiping away tears. “Promise me you’ll be careful. Promise you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I will,” promised Albert. “Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll be fine.”

A loud whistle sounded from the ship, and everyone on the deck and waiting on the pier below cheered. The ship was sailing.

Albert and the band played the last notes of the hymn. The audience applauded loudly and warmly again. Albert wiped his cornet as the ship made its way onto the St. Lawrence River. People on the pier waved handkerchiefs, flags and hats, bidding their friends and relatives goodbye.

They were on their way now.

As Albert straightened his hat again, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

It was Grace. “You are a good cornet player, Albert McBride,” she said, grinning at him. “I didn’t mean to mess you up. But you got back to your song just like that!” Grace snapped her fingers.

“Thanks!” Albert smiled. He wished he hadn’t made a mistake in front of all those people, but Grace was right — he’d kept playing.

Albert liked Grace, even if she did like to tease. He was happy to meet someone his age to share the six-day trip across the Atlantic.