Tony worked and worked. He got up at six every morning. He worked on the farm until four o'clock in the afternoon. But every minute of the day, music filled his mind.
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At night, while he slept, his mind was still full of music. Small black notes danced in front of his eyes. When he woke up the music was still there. Tony lived in a world of music.
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"How's the boy getting on?" the farmer asked Mr Gordon one day.
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At four o'clock he cycled to his piano lesson with Mr Gordon. He practised until seven o'clock, then he cycled back to the farm for supper. After supper he read Mr Gordon's music books. Often he fell asleep at the kitchen table.
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The leaves fell from the trees. Winter came. It was dark when Tony got up in the mornings. It was dark when he cycled to his piano lesson, and it was dark when he cycled back to the farm again. Sometimes it snowed. Then he had to walk to and from the school. But he never missed a lesson.
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"Very well," said the teacher. "But he's too quick for me. Soon he'll need a real teacher."
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"Can I go and listen?" asked Tony.
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Spring came, and the trees were green again.
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The programme was big and beautiful and expensive. Tony looked for his name. He found it. "Anthony Evans, aged 15. Piano."
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"No," said his teacher. "I will go and listen. You are going to play in the competition."
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"There's a music competition in the town on June 12th," said Mr Gordon one evening.
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"You will be ready," said his teacher quietly.
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"Nobody calls me Anthony," he said. "Why can't they call me Tony?"
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"Two weeks to go before the competition," said Mr Gordon one evening. "Look, this is the programme."
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"But I can't do that! I need to practise more. I'm not ready!" said Tony.
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Mr Gordon was a kind old man. But he made Tony practise for four hours every day. Another boy helped Mr Wood on the farm while Tony practised for the competition.
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"Tony is a boy's name," said Mr Gordon. "Anthony is a man's name. Tony Evans was a farm boy. Anthony Evans is a musician. One day, Anthony Evans will be famous all over the world. And from today I'm going to call you Anthony."
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On the morning of the competition Mr and Mrs Wood and Anthony went into town in the car. While Mr Wood had a drink with some friends, Mrs Wood took Anthony shopping. She bought him a new brown suit and a new white shirt. Then she took him into a shoe shop -- and Pip's father sold her some new shoes for Anthony.
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"You look wonderful, Mr Gordon!" laughed Mrs Wood. "Are you getting married?"
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They were beautiful shoes. They shone like glass and Mrs Wood liked them very much. The shoes were too small and they hurt Anthony's feet. But he did not say anything -- what could he say?
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Mrs Wood paid for the shoes, and Pip's father put them in a box.
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"I hear you're playing in the music competition tonight," he said to Anthony. "I saw your name in the programme. Anthony Evans -- it sounds wonderful. Good luck!"
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The old man got into the car and they all drove to the competition. The Woods went to their seats, but Mr Gordon took Anthony through the stage door. He took him to a room behind the stage. A lot of musicians were waiting there. The women were wearing long dresses. The men were wearing evening suits. Nobody spoke to Anthony.
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In the evening the Wood family and Anthony drove to Mr Gordon's house. Mr Gordon came out. He was wearing his best suit.
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Anthony got up. "Oh, my feet hurt!" he thought. He followed the man up some stairs. "I'm walking like Charlie Chaplin," he thought. "Everybody will laugh at me."
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"Goodbye, my boy," said Mr Gordon, "and good luck."
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"Mr Anthony Evans, please!" said the man again. "Come along -- we haven't got all night!"
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Anthony sat in the waiting room for a long time. His feet hurt. They burned like fire. His hands felt cold. They were shaking. From a long way away he heard the sound of a piano. Every few minutes a man came in and called someone's name. After a long time the man came in and said, "Mr Evans, please." Anthony did not move. Nobody usually called him Mr Evans!
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He walked on to the stage and sat down at the big piano. The dark wood shone like glass. He could see his face in it. He turned round and looked at the sea of faces. He could not see the Wood family. He could not see Mr Gordon. But suddenly Anthony felt their love and their kindness. His feet stopped hurting, his hands stopped shaking. He touched the piano. It was much bigger than the old piano in the classroom. The keys looked very clean and new. He wanted to touch them.
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"Well," he said to himself, "of course I want to touch them. That's why I'm here!" And he began to play. He forgot about himself. He forgot about all the strange people in the theatre, and he just played for his friends. He played for Mr and Mrs Wood. He played for Linda. He played for Mr Gordon. And he played for old Mrs Lark.
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"Where are you now, Mrs Lark?" he thought. "Do you remember Tony Evans? You gave us a lot of happiness, Mrs Lark. Thank you. Thank you." His hands flew over the piano keys. Beautiful sounds filled the theatre.
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"He's going to win the competition," Mr Gordon said to himself. "And this is the happiest day of my life."
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When he got out of the car, he could not walk. His new shoes hurt him too much. Mr Wood helped him into the kitchen while Mrs Wood filled an old tin bath with warm water. Linda took Anthony's shoes off. His feet were very hot and red. He put them in the warm water.
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And Anthony won the competition. He knew that he was the winner because he saw his photograph in the newspaper the next day. But he could not remember anything about it. All he remembered was his feet.
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But Anthony was too tired to answer. They helped him up to bed, and he slept until nine o'clock the next morning.
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Linda brought him breakfast in bed. He felt very strange and uncomfortable. "I've never had breakfast in bed before," he told her.
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"You've won!" shouted Mrs Wood. "Forget about your feet, boy -- you've won the competition! This is the most important night in your life!"
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"This is wonderful," he said.
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