Free Sophie's Encore by Nicky Wells Page A

know, alter the quality of the sound through the song so that it does become oppressive and hurtful. Actually…” I paused. “Let me listen to the whole thing first to see where you’re taking it and then let me think some more.”
    Dan smiled widely. “I love you,” he said sincerely. “I love your style and your honesty. This will be a great partnership.”
    I blushed at the compliment but smiled back. Dan seemed to value my opinion. Never mind that I was a complete rookie. I had always dreamed of making music. But I didn’t play an instrument that would be useful in a rock band, and while I had tried singing, my talent wasn’t tremendous. Yet if I could make music great in this way, that would be a wonderful achievement. I would do skillful, creative work, musical work. I would be part of the action. I would be in the studio with the band…and I was getting way ahead of myself here. I chuckled to myself and concentrated on the task at hand. Rock on, Sophie, rock on .

Chapter Thirteen
    “Spill. Who’s turned your head?” Rachel demanded over coffee two weekends later. The preceding weeks had been manic. Every weekday morning, I went to Dan’s house to help mix and master, and every night, I sat at my computer recording the day’s events on paper.
    I took a photo of his mixing console and labeled all the buttons and dials on it. To begin with, most of them were a mystery to me, but Dan worked his way methodically through the console, teaching and coaching me on each fader, each slider, each button, every display. By now, I knew the level at which a voice should record optimally, and I knew what happened if you went too far on the reverb or delay.
    A couple of times, we took a track completely beyond the pale. Dan said the best way of avoiding catastrophic mistakes was to try them out, one by one, in a controlled fashion. So we turned a ballad into an oompah song. Yes, trust me, it is possible!
    For two whole weeks, I saw no one apart from the kids and Dan. I didn’t have time to catch up with my parents. I didn’t manage to speak to the children’s teachers, terrible mother that I was. And I didn’t once pick up the phone to speak with Rachel. I was stretched to capacity between my recording apprenticeship, motherhood, and housework.
    But the previous night, I received a text from Rachel, informing me I would meet her for coffee on Saturday morning or our friendship would be terminated. Thus, this morning, I had driven the kids over to her house and dumped them on Alex, who also was left holding the baby. Now Rach and I were once again installed in our erstwhile favorite coffee hole in Tooting. Old habits and memory lane and all that.
    “Spill,” Rachel insisted when I failed to respond immediately.
    “No one has turned my head,” I objected. “I’ve been busy.”
    “Busy, my ass,” Rachel snorted. “You look like the cat who got the cream. Don’t get me wrong…” She stirred two sugars in her cappuccino thoughtfully. “…I totally approve. This was way overdue. Only I don’t like being left out in the cold.”
    “I’m not leaving you out in the cold.” Indignation and possibly guilt gave my voice a slightly sharper edge than I had intended. I smiled and softened my expression. “I’m really, honestly, not keeping secrets from you. I’ve been so busy. Dan and I—”
    “ Dan, ” Rachel pounced immediately, as I knew she would. “Did you say, ‘Dan and I’?”
    I nodded, feeling sheepish.
    “ No way ! Don’t tell me you’re rekindling that old flame after all this time!”
    “I’m not. We ’re not.” My voice came out strong and sincere, and Rachel took note.
    “You’re not,” she repeated. “And you sound like you mean it. Steve’s memory is still in the way, huh?”
    I flinched, and Rachel caught my look of dismay, but ploughed on regardless. “So all right, what is this ‘Dan and I’ business?”
    “He’s teaching me to mix music,” I burst out, unable to hold