He thought the playing sounded like a chorus of angels in unison and was extremely jealous as he knew he couldn’t play to that standard. This competition meant everything to him. If he failed it was the end of his dream to become a professional musician - he didn’t have the money to buy a new flute and first prize was £1000. Tom was considering just leaving and getting the bus home when he thought of his flute teacher telling him that he was “the most gifted fifteen year old flautist that she had ever taught.” That made Tom change his mind and he warmed up by playing scale after scale until his lips felt as though they were blocks of ice.
A soft tap on the door by a steward alerted Tom to the fact that it was time to go and perform. He ran down the stairs keeping hold of the banister as he went and made his way to the stage. Standing by the stage door, he tuned in to the oboist performing and started doubting himself again. Why was it that everybody was so much better than him? Tom wished that they had never invited him and turned to leave when the oboist finished abruptly. Someone behind him called him back and ushered him. He walked on nervously: This was it. Tom put his flute to his lips and sensed the expectation on his shoulders from the waiting audience. He started playing and almost immediately went wrong. He saw the judges start writing and wanted to stop. Tom continued and eventually, after what seemed like a lifetime, he finished. He bowed, walked off and burst into tears. He had messed it up.
Tom was sitting in the café drinking hot, strong coffee trying to work out how he had gone wrong. Perhaps it was nerves. Or he was just useless at playing flute and the invitation to compete was a mistake. His mind turned back to the other competitors and he wondered who would win. As he was staring into space, a steward walked up to him and asked him to go into the Main Hall. Tom was perplexed as he was certain that only first, second and third got certificates. Perhaps they had decided to award a prize for last place.
Reluctantly, he followed the steward and as he was walking into the hall, Tom felt as if the whole world was staring at him. He stood next to a girl with a clarinet who smiled at him, but he didn’t smile back. The judges stood up and then there was silence. There was the usual ‘hello, everybody was fantastic and it was a really hard decision’ spiel, but Tom was more interested in why he had been summoned and who would win.
Eventually, after giving out the second and third prizes, the hall went silent again. The judge started “The first prize goes to…” Would it be the trombonist, Tom wondered? “Thomas Chambers, playing flute.” They had just read out his name – there must have been an error because he had made a mistake. They read out his name again and Tom was pushed forwards. The judges shook his hand heartily and he was presented with the cheque and certificate. It all had his name on. Was he in a dream or something? Tom pinched himself; no, he definitely wasn’t in a dream. He was still puzzled by why he had been given first prize when he had made a mistake, so he asked the judge. The judge chuckled and said “Thomas, you made one minor mistake in a terribly difficult piece when others played much easier pieces. You have earned this and without doubt have the gift of music.” The hall erupted, and Tom smiled for the first time that day. He had seriously overreacted about his mistake and now this was his reward. He could buy his new flute and become a professional musician after all.
