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If that was the case, then Jules was right, there had to be give and take.
The idea that Jules had placed so much faith in this prophecy, that she’d taken an off-hand comment and turned it into a big thing just because it was the last thing her mother had said before she walked out made Billie’s stomach ache.
She could imagine Jules as a little eleven year old, could imagine how bereft and unloved she must have felt, and it made her want to punch someone. And not Jules, for once.
So she sniffed and said: “Music was all I did.”
“I know that,” said Jules.
Billie shrugged. “Do you though? I mean, do you really? It was my thing. The only thing I had. I sacrificed everything else for it, friends, a life, a childhood. Music was quite literally all I did. And when I got into the Royal College and left for London it was like every dream I’d ever had came true at once.”
She paused.
“No,” she said, more careful now. “It was like every dream that had ever been had for me had come true.”
Jules was quiet, but she nodded and Billie could see the understanding on her face.
“I studied, I graduated, I started working the jobs that classical musicians work, a little freelancing here, a little teaching there, playing as a replacement in orchestras, going to auditions, trying to get my break, trying to find my place in the world.”
Jules nodded again and Billie found her mouth was dry. This was the important bit, the bit where things changed, the bit she didn’t speak about at all. She had to clear her throat before she could speak again.
“And then I met Cora.”
“Cora?” Jules asked, looking slightly surprised.
Billie grinned at her. “Well, you did say that Whitebridge had an inordinate amount of gay women in it, so yes, I met Cora. She’s a conductor, if you knew anything about classical music you’d probably have heard of her.”
“Nice, underhanded insult, almost undetectable,” Jules said, rolling her eyes.
Billie ignored her. “I fell for her immediately and her for me. It was… Intense. Until it wasn’t. It’s not a new story, I know that, but it was new for me. I’d never had a relationship before. We started to argue and, well, things went downhill until arguing was all we did.”
“So you broke up?” Jules asked.
Billie nodded and couldn’t quite find the words for the rest.
Jules shuffled forward in her armchair. “What did she say to you?”
Billie’s hands were shaking. “She said that I wasn’t good enough.” The words sounded innocent enough, they were just sounds, but they broke her all over again. “She said that I just didn’t quite have it, that I was good, but not good enough, and that she was trying to save me the pain of failure. She said I should quit, stop trying, settle for a life of teaching.”
“Oh,” Jules said.
Billie looked up at her. “It wasn’t so much what she said. It was the fact that she was right.”
“Billie—”
“No, she was right. I should have seen it myself beforehand. I’m good, great even, but not quite good enough. There are thousands of others like me.” Billie took another breath. “So, I came back here. I didn’t really know what else to do. I, uh, I haven’t actually…” Another shaky breath. “I haven’t touched the violin since.”
Jules tilted her head to one side, watching her, then got up, going to the cabinet and lifting the precious violin case up. “Play it now.”
Billie’s heart started to pound in her chest. “No.”
“Go on,” Jules said, holding the case out. “Play it now. You won’t get over this until you play again, so get it over with, do it now, I’m the only one here.”
Billie stood up. “Put it down.”
“No,” Jules said. “I won’t. You can do this. Play it now.”
Billie took two steps toward her. “No.”
