Appassionata

‘And why didn’t you call me for two weeks?’

Rannaldini sunk to his knees, burying his face in her concave belly.

‘Because I knew I was unworthy. You are so lovely you would have stopped both Casanova and Giovanni on their road to ruin. I, too, have been wicked. Oh Helen, save me from the flames.’

Rannaldini was gratified to feel tears dropping on his forehead. Gotcha!

Leaping to his feet he pushed her back on to the bed.

‘I’m so scared, Rannaldini.’

‘Do not be, we play little game.

Behold, your faithful lover

Lives for you alone,’

sang Rannaldini, really straining to reach the top notes.

‘Think no longer on that appalling moment.

Your father and your husband shall I be.

‘You felt safe with Malise,’ he went on, ‘because he was both father and lover to you, and made you feel like a little girl. Tonight, let us pretend this little girl has sunk into a decline, because she is so sad. Her family is worried so they invite important doctor from London to see her.’

Sitting on the bed, Helen felt a squirming excitement.

‘The doctor geeves her medicine,’ Rannaldini raised a glass of wine to Helen’s lips, stroking her hair with his other hand.

‘Now she must undress — ’ very slowly he drew the brown dress over her head — ‘so the doctor can examine her all over.’

Gently he began to stroke Helen’s freckled shoulders and arms.

‘She is lovely but much too thin.’ Rannaldini peeled off her grey silk petticoat. The next moment her grey silk bra had followed slithering suit.

‘Ah, how sweet.’ In delight Rannaldini gently massaged her breasts. ‘How small they are, but the kind doctor will prescribe injections and a diet to make them full and beautiful again. Look how the nipples shoot out like sycamore buds. The leetle patient is very, very excited,’ he went on, ‘but she is frightened, her mother is downstairs and the doctor seem to be taking a leetle too long. Now he has peeled off her very clean knickers.’

Helen gave a moan of helpless excitement.

‘Look at her little bush, like a damp fox, naughty excited leetle girl.’

Rannaldini’s smile was satanic. The concentration in the heavy-lidded eyes was total. His voice was deep, slow, hypnotic.

‘Eef the doctor suggest an operation, he would have to shave her so she is even more like leetle girl.’

‘That’s perverted.’ Helen leapt to her feet in agitation.

But Rannaldini’s great strength pushed her back.

‘Every bit of her body must be explored.’ He drew a magnifying glass out from under the pile of pillows. ‘See she has sweet little clitoris, quite beeg enough for pleasure, the doctor stroke it to see ifit is in good working order. And it is, see how easily he slides his fingers in, one finger, now two, good little girl.’

Helen arched and groaned too excited to care any more, buckling against the relentlessly stabbing fingers, writhing beneath the delicately stroking thumb.

‘The doctor is excited, too, he knows with loving he can cure all her seekness.’

Just for a moment his fingers emerged and trailed downwards.

‘Shall the doctor examine his little patient in an even more shaming and private place? She will find it so naughty and exciting, she will beg and beg for more.’

‘No.’ Helen was struggling. ‘Please, Rannaldini, no.’

‘Another time.’ His fingers were stabbing again, her breath was coming faster and faster.

Quickly Rannaldini slid out of his dressing-gown, his body dark gold in the flickering candlelight, his splendid cock raised for the down beat.

‘Look, he geeve you standing ovation. This is most awesome steeple you will see in Prague, my darling.’

Helen’s ‘A-a-a-ah’ rivalled the Don’s, but hers was of ecstasy, as Rannaldini blew out the candle, and plunged deep into her and darkness. He had never dreamt he could make her so wildly excited.

‘Nobilmente sed appassionata,’ whispered Rannaldini as he drove on to conquest, and this time the metronome never faltered.

FIFTEEN

Helen was woken by such beautiful music she thought she had fallen asleep with the wireless on at home. Then she took in the gutted candles, the blue-and-white striped curtains, and breathed in a feral waft of Maestro clinging to the wolf-coat which Rannaldini had solicitously laid over her naked body.

Wriggling into the coat she stumbled across the dimly lit stage, to find Rannaldini already dressed. He was holding a score and picking out a tune on the harpsichord. Hearing her, he looked up and smiled.

‘I didn’t wake you.’

‘What time is it?’

Rannaldini glanced at his huge Rolex.

‘Quarter past seven.’

‘I haven’t slept through the night since Malise died.’

‘That’s because you were so tired and so loved.’

‘What’s that tune? I know it so well.’

‘On a different instrument. I conduct Missa solemnis in Berlin tonight. It is very difficult piece so I flip through score, that was violin solo from the “Benedictus”.’

‘Didn’t you sleep?’

‘I was too happy. People say it’s mistake to get your heart’s desire. I’m thoroughly enjoying it.’

Edging through the music-stands he lifted her down from the stage.

‘My leetle lamb in wolf’s clothing.’

Collapsing against him, hoping he’d make love to her again, she whispered: ‘I love you, Roberto.’

‘Good,’ smirked Rannaldini. ‘What is the purpose of the lamb but to feed the wolf?’

Not taking on board what he said, Helen picked up the huge score covered in red-and-blue pencil marks.

‘You work so hard.’

‘Not so hard as Beethoven. In his own words, “You must sacrifice all the little things of social life for the sake of your art.” That’s why you must never fret if I don’t call you, I am only making love to Beethoven.’

Leading her to the harpsichord he picked out the exquisite tune again.

‘The violin ascend to heaven like we did last night. When I conduct Beethoven, I am so proud I am half- German. Because Beethoven had greatest struggle to write the Missa, he thought it his greatest work. A friend drop in when he was composing the “Credo”, he found poor Beethoven, “singing, howling and stamping”. Oh Helen, I dream of composing again, you must be my muse.’

Seizing her hands, he gazed deep, deep into her eyes, then he said playfully: ‘But muse and genius must be fed. Get dressed and ’ave a shower, my darling, I have to listen to some pianist who beg me to hear her.’

The pianist, dark, plump, very young, was playing Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu quite brilliantly when Helen returned to the auditorium. Instantly Rannaldini halted the girl and introduced her.

‘This is Natalia Philipova. Now what ees it you want to know, Natalia?’