Stuart Woods_Stone Barrington 21

you’re a dear, and very clever, too.”

    He was nice,” Hattie said to Peter.
    “Yes, he was. Maybe we’ll become regulars, like he said.”
    “Are you a regular anywhere else?” she asked.
    “Only at the Knickerbocker cafeteria,” Peter replied. “My dad hangs out at Elaine’s.”
    “I’ve never been. Will you take me sometime?”
    “Sure, I’d love to take you. We could ask my friend Ben along, but he’s headed back to Choate Monday.”
    “Who are your friends at school?” Hattie asked.
    “Just you. I haven’t been there long enough to make other friends.”
    “I’m confused about something,” she said.
    “What?”
    “You did say you graduated from your last school in December.”
    “That’s right.”
    “How did that happen?”
    “Well, I took a lot of courses and got ahead of the curriculum.”
    “While shooting a movie at the same time?”
    “Yeah, we only worked a couple of hours a day on the movie.”
    “Are you just taking film courses at Knickerbocker?”
    “I’m taking college-level French and American history, too.”
    “Are you going to college in the fall?”
    “Ben and I have both applied to the Yale School of Drama.”
    “You want to be an actor?”
    “I want to learn about acting. They have a directing program, too, and Ben wants to produce, and they have a program for that, even an MBA. When we get out of school we want to be partners in the making of films.”
    “That sounds very ambitious,” she said. “I wish I had that kind of inner direction. I seem to just wander along, doing whatever seems like a good idea at the time.”
    “Studying musical composition seems to be a very directed choice,” Peter said.
    “I suppose so. That was a delicious lunch.”
    “Mine, too. Shall we go to my house?”
    “Sure.”
    Peter paid the check, and they walked over to Turtle Bay. He let them into the house and hung up their coats, then they went into the living room where the old Steinway grand was.
    Hattie sat down and riffed through a few chords. “Have you decided what the titles are going to be like yet?” she asked.
    “I have a lot of shots of the school campus and the James River. I thought I might string together some of them under the titles.”
    “Good, that’s what I was thinking,” she said. She began to play. “I thought I would begin with a slow passage, sort of pastoral in nature, like this.” She played a few measures. “Then I’ll establish a simple theme that will return at various points in the film.” She played the theme, then another minute or two of music, then stopped. “This is where it says, ‘Directed by Peter Barrington,’” she said. “Then the music stops for a while. I think the score should be kind of spare. I hated it in a lot of old movies when the music was there all the time. I don’t think a film needs music all the way through; it should be saved for when it’s needed to augment the film, maybe heighten the drama. Listen to this: it’s when the two boys are actually mixing the poison that they’re going to give to the master.” She played a spikier, more staccato passage.
    “That’s perfect,” Peter said, in awe of what he was hearing. “I’d be happy for the whole score to be just your piano.”
    “There are a few places where we could add a cello and a flute,” she said, “and I’d like a double bass in the more dramatic passages. There are kids at school who could play those parts.”
    “Whatever you say. Play me the theme again.”
    She began the passage, and Peter was swept into it. He closed his eyes and listened.

41
    S tone was in his office when, from upstairs, he heard the sound of the piano. It sounded very nice, he thought, and he was glad he had it tuned twice a year. After a while the music stopped, and Stone thought that, in light of his conversation with Arrington, he should find out why. He got up and went upstairs.
    “Good afternoon,” he said, startling the teenagers.
    “Hello, Dad,” Peter said. “I’d like you to meet Hattie Patrick, my friend from school.”
    Stone shook her hand. “Hello, Hattie. I liked what you were playing a minute ago.”
    “I hope we didn’t disturb you,” she said.
    “Not at all.”
    “That was some of the music Hattie has written for the score of my movie, Dad,” Peter said.
    “Wonderful. Peter, if you have a moment, there’s something I’d like to show you. Hattie, you can come along, too.”
    He led them to the elevator and they rose to