Jackie became aware of how successfully she could communicate through music and how accurately her emotions and feelings could be heard and understood. This was made evident by the deep emotional reactions so often shown by her audience. Near the end of term, she was waiting to play three short pieces in the Junior School concert. Mum was there to accompany her. Miss Mounsey was sitting near the front with several important guests, and Jackie had chosen a seat where she could keep a careful eye on her. I sat next to Jackie and, as we listened to the many solos, duets and ensembles, we wrote messages to each other on the back of the programme, and drew caricatures of Miss Mounsey. At last it was Jackie’s turn to play. As Mum squeezed past me, smiling and wrinkling her nose, Jackie leaned over and whispered in my ear: ‘You watch, Hil, I’m going to make Miss Mounsey cry.’ One of the pieces was from Saint-Saëns’s Carnival of the Animals. Even before the accompaniment had started, Jackie’s concentration was so intense, she was already in another world. Mum began with the soft, floating introduction on the piano, setting the scene of a still lake. When the swan swept into the music, the serene, majestic theme on the cello immediately penetrated our senses, and the entire audience became still, as if our hearts had stopped beating. It wasn’t long before several people were dabbing at their faces with handkerchiefs . . . including Miss Mounsey. << less