Annette’s piano
‘What on earth are you doing?’ asked Phoebe. I returned my glasses to my nose. She was staring at me in a very scornful way.
‘Here we go again!’ sighed Pim.
‘Pim,’ Della cautioned.
‘’Tis learning my music I am,’ I explained.
‘Do you have to be so gauche about it? Why don’t you sight-read for Heaven’s sake.’
‘I—I don’t sight-read well,’ I hated having to admit my weakness to Phoebe, particularly when she was so adept. ‘I—I have trouble reading the notes.’
‘We’re not all as clever as you, Phoebe,’ said Della, sensing as I did a torrent of criticism coming my way.
‘You don’t have to read every single note, silly,’ remarked Phoebe. ‘You can improvise, can’t you?’
Phoebe knew full well that I could. She had heard me do so in the music store.
I nodded.
‘And you’ve studied harmony?’
Of course I had. Many a bedridden day had been spent mulling over chord progressions and counterpoint.
‘Well, what key are we in?’
‘D Minor it would be,’ I replied, and I hurriedly checked the key signature and the first line of notes.
There followed a series of rapid-fire questions. Phoebe ignored Della and Pim who started to complain about her treatment of me.
‘Then what’s the Dominant?’
‘A major.’
‘Sub-dominant?’
‘G minor.’
‘Relative major?’
‘F major.’
‘Raised seventh?’
‘C sharp.’
‘Then it should be easy. Don’t worry so much about the notes. All you have to do is listen to the harmonies, look for the patterns and count like blazes.’ And with a shrug of her shoulders and a toss of her curls, Phoebe sat down and began tuning her violin.
‘Crikey, Phoebe,’ complained Pim. ‘Of all the ways to say something, why do you always have to choose the more unpleasant?’
‘You can talk,’ retorted Phoebe.
‘Let her alone,’ I interrupted Pim who was ready to answer back. At least this time Phoebe had only called me silly. Besides, Pim had only heard the tone of Phoebe’s voice which had been hard and demanding. I, on the other hand, had looked her in the face and had seen a softer expression in her eyes, tired as they were. It was an expression which seemed to say, ‘Please don’t give up. Please play. I want you to play.’
‘Shall we start?’ asked Della.
You’ll have to read the book to find out what happens next!
Here are some more tips:
How to Sight-Read Music at Wikihow