Appassionata

‘But this may be the last time you hear the RSO because they are being forced to merge with the Cotchester Chamber Orchestra. This means most of them will lose their jobs.’

‘That’s enough,’ snarled Rannaldini, who was already foaming like a pit bull.

‘I agree, Maestro,’ Lady Appleton rose to her feet.

The Princess, however, who was looking madly interested, stayed seated.

‘I’ve almost finished,’ Marcus raised his hand. ‘I only want to say the real heroine of this evening, Abigail Rosen, wasn’t allowed to be here.’ The orchestra gave another great cheer. ‘Because Abby was involved with me, she was sacked and not allowed to conduct her own orchestra today. Although I love her very much, I can’t marry her, because I couldn’t give her the happiness she deserves. No-one has done more to make the RSO the truly great orchestra you heard today.’ Marcus’s voice broke, but he just managed to finish. ‘I hope the ban will be lifted and Abby will get her job back. Thank you.’

The cheers were still echoing in his ears when he finally fought his way back to his dressing-room. A mad party was spilling out into the passage. Everyone was opening champagne bottles and celebrating. Mrs Bateson hugged him.

‘Your little cat really worked,’ Marcus told her.

Lord Leatherhead and Mrs Parker and even awful Miles were all there getting in on the act.

‘Sonny will write you a concerto, Marcus,’ promised Mrs Parker. ‘He says no-one can play the Interruption like you do.’

‘From the first,’ Goatie Gilbert was boasting, ‘I recognized Marcus Black’s talent.’

Rupert couldn’t remember feeling so happy or so proud, it was as though a dam, built of years of irritation, contempt and antagonism, had suddenly burst, and he could feel love for Marcus pouring out of him. Sister Angelica had been right about El Dorado being found in the heart. Thank God, it wasn’t too late, and he had time ahead to make it up to Marcus.

‘I can smell the fatted calf,’ said Flora slyly.

Rupert laughed. ‘Lousy with cholesterol. At least Taggie knows how to cook it. The downside is I don’t get you as a daughter-in-law. I suppose you couldn’t wait for Xav to grow up?’

‘I’m suited,’ said Flora, blushing slightly, ‘but thanks all the same.’

Then, as George, who was holding out a town-hall teacup of water for Trevor to drink out of, shot Rupert yet another murderous glance, she added hastily: ‘You really must get to know George.’

‘I don’t think George feels that’s strictly necessary,’ said Rupert.

Across the room Helen was in raptures over Marcus’s victory.

‘Oh darling, darling, I’m so proud. Think of all the wonderful concerts ahead. You’ll be in work for the next two years and your speech was so lovely, so assured. I hope Abby heard it.’

‘More importantly, I hope the board did,’ said Marcus glaring at Miles and taking a glass of champagne from Rupert.

‘Do you think you ought to drink after all that medication?’ reproved Helen.

The next moment Howie Denston rushed in and embraced Marcus.

‘Great, kid, great! Always knew you could do it. You’ve talked to James Vereker, OK. In ten minutes there’ll be a press conference. I’ll field any tricky questions about Nemerovsky and then there’s the party. You’ll be sitting near Lady A. and the Princess. Your folks are invited, of course. Tomorrow around ten, we’ll sign the contracts. You’ll be working your fingers off for the next two years.’ He tapped his mobile. ‘I’ve already had two big record producers on to me.’

But Marcus was re-reading Alexei’s note.

‘Fine, Howie.’ Then he looked up. ‘Could you all clear out? I want a word with Mum and Dad.’

Helen’s heart swelled. Marcus had grown so authoritative. In a day, he seemed to have turned into a man, and she was feeling much more cheerful having just met Lord Leatherhead, who’d asked her out to lunch next week.

Rupert, meanwhile, was talking to Czechoslovakia on his mobile.

‘Pridie’s absolutely fine,’ Dizzy was telling him. ‘You’re not to be cross with Lysander. His shoulder’s been set and he’s really sorry he didn’t win.’

‘Doesn’t matter — Marcus did,’ said Rupert jubilantly. ‘Christ, he did brilliantly.’

Taggie snatched the telephone from him.

‘And guess what?’ she told Dizzie, ‘Rupert didn’t fall asleep once.’

As Taggie joined the rest of the revellers drifting out, saying, ‘Absolutely brilliant, see you at the party,’ Marcus shut the door and leant against it looking at his parents squarely.

‘You ought to be in bed,’ chided Helen.

‘I’m going to Moscow,’ said Marcus.

Helen gave a scream. ‘Oh no, you can’t, your career! All those engagements!’

Rupert’s sigh was almost imperceptible and in no way betrayed his desolation at suddenly discovering El Dorado was disappearing into the mists again.

‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’ he asked slowly.

Marcus nodded.

‘Moscow’s bloody dangerous at the moment.’

‘I know, but I will come back.’

‘Then I’ll drive you to the airport. We better look up a flight.’

‘I know them all backwards.’

Helen burst into tears.

‘Please don’t go, after all we’ve worked for. Think what you’re throwing away: the Queen Elizabeth, the Festival Hall, the Wigmore, the Barbican. Have you got some sort of death-wish? I wanted Penscombe to be yours and your sons,’ she sobbed, ‘and your sons’ sons. Then you’d never have to worry about money. And now you’re chucking everything away, just when fate’s given you a second chance. You and Abby were so happy. There are counsellors you could talk to.’

‘Mum,’ said Marcus gently as he hugged his mother, ‘you don’t understand. I love Alexei. I can’t hang around this evening. I’ve proved to myself I can play the piano. I don’t want to get into that circus. I want to develop as a soloist in my own time.’

Gently, he pulled away from her, then briefly he put his arms round Rupert.

‘I love you, Dad, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say it.’

I don’t understand, thought Helen in despair, why does Rupert always swan in at the last moment and win out?

SEVENTY

When Marcus didn’t show up at the party, it was at first assumed he’d flaked out and gone back to bed. A home win in itself was enough to ensure the most riotous celebrations. Anyway the RSO were too busy getting legless to notice. Cherub, who’d packed in more drinking time because there was no percussion in the Schumann, was absolutely plastered and, by smiling sweetly at Pablo, had joyfully appropriated the Guinness Book of Records.

‘That’s the biggest mole in history,’ he pointed at Hilary’s rigid back, going off into fits of giggles. ‘And here’s the prickliest cactus,’ he pointed at Militant Moll. ‘And he-ah we have the biggest goldfish,’ pausing behind Hermione he started making fish faces and mouthing: ‘I know that my Redeemer.’

His fellow musicians were in stitches.

‘Who’s the biggest rat?’ asked Fat Isobel, who had practically obscured Ninion by sitting on his knee.

‘Him,’ said Cherub, pointing at Carmine who was still trying to reach Cathie on his mobile.

‘I am biggest gooseberry,’ sighed Pablo, who was sitting at a table with a passionately embracing Boris and Deirdre.