Elizabeth Grey - Part 5: Autumn In New York free porn video
Elisabeth Grey - Part 5: Autumn in New York.
By Carmenica Diaz
True to her word, Angela rang her music teacher and then gave me
her address written on the back of an old envelope. 'Her name is
Mrs Robinson and she's not far from here, you can walk if you
like. I think it'll be a nice day.'
'Sounds lovely.'
'I'm off to get all the information from Sherry and I'm sure
I'll come back with loads of gossip. Bye.'
Time for a long bath, I told myself, humming as I walked to the
bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and heard Max's words
again - Listen, can you tart yourself up a bit when you perform?
Maybe look a bit glamorous? Could you dye your hair blonde?
Leaning closer to the mirror, I took my glasses off and studied
myself. I wonder what I would look like as a blonde? I thought
of Angela and how stunning she was with her long blonde hair and
wished I had that colouring.
Closing my eyes, I tried to recall the photograph of Heather
James and the All-Stars I had seen at the Red Note. There are an
awful lot of blondes in the band, I thought miserably, even
Heather's an ash blonde. Thankfully, I sort of remembered that
the drummer was of West Indian or perhaps Indian descent so
there'll be someone else with dark hair.
Lying in the bath, playing with the bubbles an idea came to me
and, excited, I wrapped a towel around me, dashed to the bedroom
to get the card from my purse.
Should I do this? I asked myself. He might just brush you off,
he might have pretended to be friendly, not really have meant it
but there's only one way to find out.
Taking a deep breath, I dialled the number and waited. 'Hello?'
'Could I speak to Jeremy Bingham please?'
'This is he. Who's speaking?'
'Jeremy, this is Liz, Liz Grey?' I waited to hear his reaction,
expecting him to give me the cold shoulder or something, but his
reaction was typical of the Jeremy I had begun to know that time
in the country, where it all began.
'Liz? Is that really you, dear? It's super to hear from you.
Have you escaped the Stalag in the wilderness?'
I laughed, relieved at the obvious delight in his voice. 'Yes,
I'm free and I'm joining the band.'
'Wonderful! I'm sure you'll be a star, dear. It's simply
marvellous to hear your voice, I thought I might never see you
again,' he added in a wistful voice.
Hesitantly, I asked, 'Jeremy, the manager of the band wants me
to be more glamorous...'
'I knew it! Would old Miss Sourpuss listen to me? Of course not!
I just knew this would happen. I just knew it!'
'Can you help me a little, Jeremy?'
'A little!' he shrieked down the 'phone. 'Dear, we have to do
the works!'
'Oh no,' I groaned, 'not the works again.'
Jeremy spluttered with laughter. 'It won't be as bad as last
time. I really knew this would happen, Liz and I have a few
things I was going to use if I could convince Miss Grumpy Bum.'
'You have?' I asked, surprised. 'What kind of...'
'Never you mind. Now, does this band have a uniform?'
'Well, I'm supposed to wear red evening gowns...'
'Red evening gowns,' he said dreamily, 'how deliciously perfect
for you, how wonderful. I can just see you in a strapless... you
haven't bought them yet, have you?' he asked suspiciously and he
was relieved when I said I hadn't. 'Can you come around
tomorrow? It will take most of the day, I'm afraid.'
'I suppose so.'
'What will you tell you know who?'
I cleared my throat. 'Actually, Jeremy, Angela may be with me.
We've become friends and I understand a little more about her.
She's not like we thought at all...'
'Are you sure?' he asked dryly.
'I'm sure...'
'I certainly don't trust the snooty bitch, pretending she's the
Princess of Wales or something... all that Sloane ranger clobber
is just so pass?!'
'Jeremy, she is friendly now and I understand why. She's doing
it all for love.'
'Love?' he said suspiciously.
'Yes and I want to help her.'
'Liz, you're an extremely nice woman, that's all I can say.'
His words reverberated through me - an extremely nice woman!
'No, I don't think so. Jeremy,' I said slowly, 'I can't afford
to pay you a lot...'
'I have most of the stuff, dear and it's my treat. You can pay
me in a special way!'
A special way? 'Oh... Jeremy... I mean... I don't know...'
'Oh get your mind above your navel, dear!' Jeremy snapped with
a laugh. 'I don't do girls. No, I thought you could play for a
small dinner party I'm holding tomorrow night in a private room
at Bellini's. After hearing you sing, I just know you'll be a
hit!'
'Are you sure?' I said doubtfully.
'Of course. You don't have to if you don't want to, and I'll
still help you out, it'll be fun!'
How could I let him help me and not repay him? 'All right,' I
said slowly, 'I'll do it.'
'You will! How gorgeous of you, just a few songs and that's it.
I'll see you tomorrow morning at ten?'
'Ten it is,' I said and wrote down the address. 'Jeremy,' I said
before I hung up, 'could you be nice to Angela?'
'Nice? I'm always nice.' He laughed again. 'I will, Liz, relax
and we'll do the works tomorrow.'
'I'm looking forward to it,' I groaned and he was still laughing
when he hung up.
I smiled as I hung up and then rushed off to get ready top
rehearse. He's such a friend, I realised, so warm and ready to
help. I'd better plan what songs I'll do, I thought, for
Jeremy's party and practice them as well.
I did walk to the rehearsal space, as Angela had been right, it
had turned out to be a nice day. Mrs Robinson opened the door
herself and smiled at me when I introduced myself.
'How are you dear, Angela told me about you, come in.'
She told you about me? 'Thank you, Mrs Robinson,' I said,
wondering how to ask her what Angela had exactly told her.
'She said you play jazz piano,' Mrs Robinson volunteered, 'and
you need a place to rehearse?'
I sighed with relief. 'Yes,' I said as I followed her into a
long room with polished boards and a baby grand in the corner.
Sunlight streamed in through the long windows that lined one
wall and my heels clicked on the bare boards. 'This is lovely.'
'It is nice, isn't it? I hate to ask you, love but could you
take your high heels off. They mark the floor.'
'Of course,' I said as I slipped them off, 'sorry, I should have
thought...'
I suddenly seemed much shorter that she standing there in my
stocking feet and she smiled in a motherly way. 'No need to be
sorry, dear, it's just that I have young ballet dancers in here
to rehearse and the floor has to be smooth.'
'This is awfully kind of you, Mrs Robinson,' I said as I ran my
fingers over the baby grand. 'How much will it be to use the
room?'
She shook her head. 'No charge, dear, I'm happy to help a friend
of Angela's. She was my star pupil for many years, the best
there was and I think she could have gone all the way if she
wanted to.'
'Oh, what happened?'
'Her father didn't want her to be a musician, caused a ruckus
and Angela gave in at the end. Does she still play?'
'I haven't heard her,' I said.
'Well,' Mrs Robinson said with a grin, 'it appears your family
supports you in whatever you choose to do?'
'Yes,' I said dryly, 'I suppose they do.'
She gave me another well-meaning smile as she left the room and
I pulled the music sheets from my bag, sat down and ran my
fingers over the keys. Nice feel, I thought, feeling the pedals,
very nice timbre.
I started with 'Rhapsody in Blue', it seemed fitting somehow and
then went straight into 'Summertime', 'My Man's Gone Now' and
'I've got a Crush on You.'
'Not bad,' I murmured to myself, 'I seem to have a slightly
different touch, must be the fingernails.'
In quick succession I played 'I've Got You Under My Skin',
'Embraceable You' and the other songs on the list Heather had
handed me.
Mrs Robinson bustled in with a tray. 'I made you a spot of tea,'
she explained, smiling.
'Oh, you shouldn't have, Mrs Robinson,' I protested.
'I've enjoyed your playing, Miss Grey, you have a wonderful
touch, it's a gift.'
'Thank you,' I murmured taking the offered cup from her.
'Do you sing as well?' she asked offering a biscuit and I took
one so not to offend her.
'I'm trying to, I have a low register, I think.'
'Perfect for those tunes I think. Can I stay and listen?'
I had to play in front of an audience sooner or later, I
thought, so why not? 'Of course but I'm not very good,' I shyly
added.
She nodded as if she didn't believe me and I opened the sheets
again so I could see the lyrics. Taking a deep breath, I began
'I've Got You Under My Skin' and began singing.
I knew the words and I found I shut my eyes when I sang, lightly
stroking the keys and adding shade to the voice. When I
finished, I opened my eyes to see Mrs Robinson beaming at me.
'You have an unusual voice, Miss Grey, smoky and husky but, at
the same time, very melodic. Can I suggest something?'
'Of course.'
'Sing a little higher in the throat when aiming for higher
notes, it will add a wonderful shade.'
'Ok, I'll try it.' I sang it again and she was right, it even
sounded ok to my critical ears. 'I see what you mean, thank you
so much.'
'Not at all. I have another suggestion,' she said. 'You can tell
me I'm an old biddy and to shut up if you like but I think
there's a perfect song for you.'
'I welcome your suggestions, Mrs Robinson,' I said quickly.
'What do you suggest?'
'Do you enjoy Billie Holiday?'
'Of course, I think she was fantastic.'
Mrs Robinson went to a cupboard and rummaged in it until she
produced pages of music. 'Here it is. 'Autumn in New York'. It
would be perfect for you.'
I looked at the music and began playing it through slowly to get
the feel. It is a beautiful song and Billie's singing, quite
rightly, immediately impacts most people, but the piano also
makes the song a perfect gem. 'That's it,' Mrs Robinson said.
'Sing it.'
Taking a deep breath, I began cold with the piano a split-second
behind and performed it, becoming lost in it and making sure the
phrasing was right.
Mrs Robinson began applauding, beaming at me as, blushing, I
nodded. 'That was perfect, Miss Grey, your voice adds a
different dimension and it's superb.'
'Thank you, you've been a great help. Would you suggest other
songs for me?'
'Do you mean it?' she smiled.
'Yes,' I said with a grin, 'but only if you call me Liz.'
Mr Robinson laughed. 'And I'm Wendy. Liz,' she said, 'I have
some breathing exercises you might want to learn? They'll help
you build a stronger voice.'
'Wendy,' I said shyly, 'I need all the help you're willing to
give me.'
It was late afternoon by the time I finished having under
Wendy's watchful eye rehearsed many old songs and some brilliant
new ones that she had suggested. The exercise were fantastic and
I suddenly felt a lot more confident with the singing especially
after Wendy showed me many of the small 'tricks' singers use.
I thanked her and walked back, stopping at the shops for some
fish and makings for a salad for dinner as well as a bottle of
white wine from the off licence.
At the florist, I arranged for an extremely nice bunch of
flowers to be delivered to Wendy Robinson with the card, - Thank
you so much, Liz Grey.
Walking back to Angela's townhouse, I hummed 'Autumn in New
York' and smiled happily at the world.
Angela came in with a bang, dumping her bag on the table,
kicking her shoes off and collapsing on the sofa next to me. I
had changed into jeans and a top and was sitting on the sofa, my
bare feet curled under me, reading a magazine.
'Heather is totally unorganised and that Max is a useless twit,'
she announced emphatically.
'But what do you really think?' I joked.
She laughed. 'I feel a little sorry for Heather, I think she
loves Max, but he's a bit of a shit and treats her badly.'
'Sounds familiar,' I said quietly.
'Yes,' she said solemnly, 'it does,' she said, looking away as
she said it. 'Heather and Max are long term.'
'Doesn't sound long term.'
'No, maybe not. Liz,' she said suddenly, 'did you know the
British government is funding this tour, paying everyone?' I
shook my head. 'They are and the government insisted that
everyone in the group be British citizens. Don't expect to be
welcomed with open arms, Heather sacked the pianist who was
American as well as the clarinet player who was Australian or
something.'
'Wonderful,' I said dryly, 'the entire band is going to hate
me?'
'They won't once they get to know you, Liz,' she laughed and
then began telling me the exact details of the tour. 'We fly to
Berlin, transfer to East Berlin and then fly to Prague, train to
Budapest and back to East Berlin. Two concerts in Prague and
Budapest before going back to East Berlin for the final
performance. We'll have Soviet watchdogs with us all the way,
I'm afraid, plus someone from the Foreign Office who will be an
interpreter.'
'It sounds really exciting. What does Max actually do?'
'I really don't know apart from tuning the pianos.'
'He does what?'
'That's a big worry as everyone takes their instruments except,
of course, you, so Max checks the pianos that are in the concert
halls. I suppose it's important.'
'It sounds terribly important to me,' I deadpanned, 'but I'm
only the humble pianist...'
'Oh alright, it is important!' Angela laughed and then yawned.
'Fancy calling out for a curry or something? I don't have the
energy to cook anything.'
'You don't have to,' I said, standing, 'I have it ready. It's
fish with a salad. Why don't you get changed and I'll grill the
fish, it won't take long.'
'Wow,' Angela said with a grin. 'I won't say no.'
The fish was cooking nicely, dressing was on the salad and I was
opening the wine when Angela returned. 'This looks great,' she
said, taking the glass I gave her, 'what's the occasion?'
I shrugged. 'Oh, nothing really... I just felt like it's a
beginning or something... I thought it would be nice.'
'It is,' Angela said with a smile. She raised her glass for a
toast. 'To friends.'
'To friends,' I echoed and we sipped, smiling. 'Let's eat.'
'This is delicious,' Angela said. 'How did you get on with Mrs
Robinson?'
'Wendy is fantastic...'
'Wendy? You call her by her first name?'
'She insisted and...'
'I've never been allowed to call her that,' Angela said with a
mock scowl. 'You waltz in and you're on first name basis in a
day, you saucy cow!'
'Maybe she thinks that she should have respect from her star
pupil!'
'Oh, she said that?' Angela asked in a soft voice.
'Yes, she did,' I said immediately serious. 'Angie, will you
tell me why you gave it up?'
She nodded. 'One day but not tonight.' She forced a grin. 'I
want to hear about you and Wendy!'
'You'll have to wait,' I said with a grin, 'let me tell you
something else first.'
After I told her about Jeremy and what he planned to do, Angela
looked concerned. 'You look nice now, Liz, why do more?'
'Thanks, Angie, I know I look ok, but I look at you and you're
so attractive...'
'Me? Get away with you!'
'You know you are, Angie, don't try that on. I look a bit dowdy
next to you.'
'I suppose I did tell Jeremy to keep you a little plain,' she
said looking away, 'I thought you wouldn't want to draw
attention to yourself even though he tried to tell me
differently.'
I let that one go, not wanting to tell her about Jeremy's I told
old sourpuss diatribe. 'And I certainly got the impression that
the other members of the band would be glamorous. I also like
the idea of looking my best when I perform, can you blame me?'
'No,' Angela grinned, 'who wouldn't like a makeover and a bit of
pampering?'
'Will you come with me? We can look for the gowns after that
before we go to the dinner party?'
Angela frowned. 'I don't know Liz, Jeremy doesn't like me and he
thinks...'
'I told Jeremy you were my friend now,' I said firmly, 'he will
be nice, so you just have to come. Please?'
Angela smiled at last. 'I'd love to. Are you nervous about
singing in front of people?'
'I'm terribly nervous, that's why I want you there for support.'
'You were fabulous that night at my father's house, I'm sure
you'll be brilliant tomorrow night, especially,' she said with
a wink, 'since Wendy has helped you.'
'Saucy bitch,' I laughed. 'She did help me and I've got some
great songs now...'
At that instant, the telephone rang and Angela answered. I
watched the smile slip from her face, her hard official
expression returned and as she listened, muttered something and
then broke into a huge smile before putting the phone down.
'That was Sean. You know,' she said when she saw my puzzled
expression, 'the friend? He rang to tell me, off the record,
that the British government have decided to begin negotiations
with the Soviets next week.'
My heart leapt into my mouth, not only because Edward may be
free but because I immediately thought I might miss out on the
tour. I felt rather selfish. 'So it could all be over soon?' I
slowly asked.
'Not likely, both sides, according to Sean, will jockey for
position, one upmanship and all that, so it could still drag
on.' Angela sat down. 'If it was over next week, what would you
do?'
'Go on the tour still, of course,' I said promptly. 'And so will
you.'
'Really?' It was obvious she liked that idea.
'Of course, Angie, it'll be fun, won't it? How did you meet
Sean?'
'We grew up next door to each other. He's like a big brother.
He's awfully sweet and he's taking a bloody big risk calling me
and telling me.'
'He knows you love Edward?'
'Of course, we tell each other everything. He told me he
passionately loved Clare Wilson. Of course, he was eleven at the
time and I was only nine,' she added and we both laughed.
'Angie,' I asked after a minute, 'why did Edward go to Budapest
and why wouldn't the government help him at the beginning?'
Angela stared down at the wine in her glass. 'He went to
Budapest for a woman, of course, you know Edward,' she said
lightly.
'Well, actually, I don't seem to know him at all,' I said dryly
and sipped my wine.
'Unfortunately, as the woman was a Soviet agent, instead of a
bit of a snog followed by some rumpy-pumpy, he found himself in
prison. The government frowns on agents that break rules.'
'I see.'
'But now they're beginning to negotiate at last.'
'So, it seems it will all work out after all.'
'Yes, it does,' Angela said. 'I didn't need to do all those
things to...'
'God!' I rolled my eyes dramatically to the ceiling. 'Is this
another I'm sorry you got boobies song? I couldn't stand it if
it was.'
Angela stared at me and then burst in laughter. 'You bitch,' she
giggled. 'I should throw this wine at you.'
'Well, aim it at my mouth, it'd be a shame for us to waste it.'
Angela giggled. 'I can't believe how so much has changed in such
a short time...'
'I can,' I said looking down at my breasts and she laughed
again.
'I meant about you and me! We've become really good friends in
such a short time.' She stopped herself then looked at me. 'At
least I think so,' she said shyly.
'I do to,' I said with a smile. 'Come on, let's clean up.'
As we were washing up, Angela asked, 'what did Jeremy say about
me?'
She'd obviously been thinking about tomorrow. 'Oh nothing
much...'
'Liar! I can see it in your face. What did he say?'
I kept washing. 'Look, these rubber gloves of yours are too big
for me and the hot water has steamed my glasses...'
Angela ignored my pathetic attempt at distraction. 'He called me
something, didn't he?'
'He might have but that doesn't...'
'What did he call me?' she demanded, flicking me on the bottom
with the tea towel.
'Ouch! If you must know, he called you old sourpuss!'
'The nerve of him! I'll show him!'
'Now, don't do anything to him, he's been rather sweet to me.'
'I will be as nice as pie,' Angela smiled sweetly and began
putting the dishes away, 'nice as pie. Old sourpuss indeed!'
We sat and talked about nothing and everything for the rest of
the evening. After the hormone shot, Angela hugged me. 'I love
having you here, Liz, I really do.'
'So do I, thanks for helping me out.'
'You know,' Angela began hesitantly, 'when the tour's over, we
can make it permanent... you could move in permanently... only
if you want to of course. Anyway, think about it.'
'No...'
'No? That was quick,' Angela said with a hurt expression.
'Angie,' I said patiently, 'you didn't let me finish, I was
going to say, no, I don't have to think about it, I would love
to.'
'Super!' We hugged and said goodnight. I could see Angela was
tired and I was myself, although excited about the next day's
session with Jeremy.
After cleaning my face, lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and
trying to remember what my old life was like before I became
Elizabeth Grey.
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