I climbed down off the stage and set off across the hall. I had not got half-way across before I began to feel disorientated in the darkness and, changing course a little, made towards the nearest shaft of light. Just as I did so, a figure brushed in front of me.
‘Oh, excuse me,’ the person said. ‘I beg your pardon.’
I recognised Stephan’s voice and said: ‘Hello. So you at least are still here.’
‘Oh, Mr Ryder. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.’ He sounded tired and dejected.
‘You really ought to be feeling more cheerful,’ I said to him. ‘You gave a splendid performance. The audience was extremely moved.’
‘Yes. Yes, I suppose they did give me a good reception.’
‘Well, congratulations. After all that hard work, it must be very satisfying for you.’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
We started to walk side by side through the darkness. If anything, the daylight from the ceiling made it all the more difficult to see where one was going, but Stephan appeared to know his way.
‘You know, Mr Ryder,’ he said after a moment, ‘I’m jolly grateful to you. You’ve been marvellously encouraging. But the truth is, I didn’t come up to scratch tonight. Not by my own standards anyway. Of course, the audience gave me a big hand, but that’s because they weren’t expecting anything so special. But really, I know myself I’ve got a long way to go. My parents are right.’
‘Your parents? Good gracious, you shouldn’t worry about them.’
‘No, no, Mr Ryder, you don’t understand. My parents, you see, they have the highest standards. These people who are here tonight, they were very kind but really, they don’t know so much about these things. They saw a local boy playing at a certain level and got very excited. But I want to be measured by real standards. And I know my parents do too. Mr Ryder, I’ve come to a decision. I’m going off. I need to go somewhere bigger, study under someone like Lubetkin or Peruzzi. I realise now I can never reach the levels I want to here, not in this city. Look at the way they clapped what was after all a pretty ordinary performance of Glass Passions. That just about summed it up. I didn’t really see it before, but I suppose you could call me a big fish in a small pond. I ought to go away for a bit. See what I can really do.’
We continued to walk, our footsteps resounding through the auditorium. Then I said:
‘That may well be wise. In fact, I’m sure you’re right. A move to a bigger city, bigger challenges, I’m sure it will do you good. But you must be careful who you study with. If you like, I’ll give the matter some thought and see if I can arrange something.’
‘Mr Ryder, if you’d do that, I’d be eternally grateful. Yes, I need to see how far I can go. Then one day I’ll come back here and show them. Show them how you really play Glass Passions.’ He gave a laugh, but still sounded far from cheerful.
‘You’re a talented young man. You’ve got everything ahead of you. You really ought to be in better spirits.’
‘I suppose so. I suppose I’m just a bit daunted. I didn’t realise until tonight just what a huge climb I’ve still got in front of me. You’ll think this is very funny, but do you know, I thought I’d have it all wrapped up tonight. It shows what it does to you, living in a place like this. You start thinking small. Yes, I thought I’d do everything there was to do tonight! You see how ridiculous my thinking has been until now. My parents are quite right. I’ve a great deal left to learn.’
‘Your parents? Listen, my advice is to forget about your parents altogether for now. If I may say so, I really don’t understand how they can …’
‘Ah, here we are. It’s this way.’ We had arrived at some sort of doorway and Stephan was tugging at a curtain hung across it. ‘It’s through here.’
‘Sorry, what’s through here?’
‘The conservatory. Oh, perhaps you haven’t heard of the conservatory. It’s very famous. It was built a hundred years after the hall itself, but now it’s almost as famous. That’s where everyone’s gone to eat breakfast.’
We found ourselves in a corridor, all down one side of which was a long row of windows. I could see through the nearer of them the light blue morning sky.
‘Incidentally,’ I said as we began to walk again, ‘I was wondering about Mr Brodsky. About his condition. Is he … deceased?’
‘Mr Brodsky? Oh no, he’s going to be fine, I’m sure. They took him off somewhere. Actually, I heard they took him to the St Nicholas Clinic.’
‘The St Nicholas Clinic?’
‘It’s the place that takes in down-and-outs. In the conservatory just now, people were talking about it, saying, well, that’s where he belongs, that’s where they know how to deal with problems like his. I was a bit shocked, to tell you the truth. In fact – I’ll tell you this, Mr Ryder, in confidence – all of that helped me make up my mind. About going away, I mean. That performance Mr Brodsky gave tonight, in my opinion it was the finest thing that’s been heard in this concert hall for many many years. Certainly for as long as I’ve been able to appreciate music. But you saw what happened. They didn’t want it, it startled them. It was much more than they’d ever bargained for. They’re very relieved he collapsed like that. They realise now they want something else. Something a little less extreme.’
‘Something not so different from Mr Christoff perhaps.’
Stephan thought about this. ‘A little different. A new name, at least. They realise now Mr Christoff isn’t quite the thing. They do want something better. But … but not that.’
Through the windows I could now see the wide expanse of lawn outside and the sun rising over the row of trees in the distance.
‘What do you suppose will become of Mr Brodsky now?’ I asked.
‘Mr Brodsky? Oh, he’ll just go back to being what he’s always been here. See out his days as the town drunk, I suppose. They certainly won’t let him be much else, not after tonight. As I say, they took him to the St Nicholas Clinic. I’ve grown up here, Mr Ryder, and in many ways I still love this town. But I’m eager to be leaving now.’
‘Perhaps I should try and say something. I mean, address the crowd in the conservatory. Say a few words about Mr Brodsky. Put them right about him.’
Stephan considered this for a few steps, then shook his head.
‘It’s not worth it, Mr Ryder.’
‘But I must say, I don’t like this any more than you do. You never know. A few words from me …’
‘I don’t think so, Mr Ryder. They won’t listen even to you now. Not after that performance from Mr Brodsky. That reminded them of everything they’re afraid of. Besides, there’s no microphone or anything in the conservatory, not even a platform you can stand up and speak from. You’d never get yourself heard over all the noise. You see, it’s pretty big, almost as big as the auditorium itself. From corner to corner, it must be … well, even if you kept to a dead straight diagonal, knocking aside any tables and guests seated in your way, you’d still measure out fifty metres at least. It’s a jolly big place, as you’ll see. If I were you, Mr Ryder, I’d just relax now and enjoy your breakfast. After all, you’ve got Helsinki to be thinking about.’
The conservatory, right enough, was a vast affair, which at this moment was bathed in morning sunlight. Everywhere people were talking cheerfully, some seated around tables, others standing in little groups. I could see people drinking coffee and fruit juice, others eating from plates or bowls, and as we made our way through the crowd I caught in turn the aromas of fresh rolls, fish cakes, bacon. I could see waiters rushing about with plates and jugs of coffee. All around me voices were greeting one another in delight, and it struck me the whole atmosphere resembled that of a reunion. And yet these were people who saw each other constantly. Clearly the evening’s events had made them re-assess themselves and their community in some profound way, and the resulting mood, for whatever reason, appeared to be one of mutual celebration.
I could see now that Stephan was right. There was little point in my attem
pting to address this crowd, let alone in asking them to return to the auditorium for my recital. Feeling suddenly tired and extremely hungry, I decided to sit down and have some breakfast myself. When I looked about, however, I could see no free chairs anywhere. Moreover, I turned to find that Stephan was no longer walking beside me, but had been drawn into conversation by a group at a table we had just passed. I watched him being greeted warmly, half expecting him to introduce me. But he seemed to become engrossed in the conversation, and very soon he too had adopted a cheerful demeanour.
I decided to leave him to it and walked on through the crowd. I thought that sooner or later a waiter would spot me and come rushing up with a plate and a cup of coffee, perhaps show me to a seat. But though on a few occasions a waiter did come hurrying in my direction, each time he pushed past me and I was obliged to watch him serving someone else.
Then after a while I realised I was standing close to the main doors of the conservatory. Someone had thrown them wide open and many guests had spilled out onto the lawn. I stepped out a little way and was surprised by the chill in the air. But here, too, people were standing talking in groups, drinking their coffees or else eating on their feet. Some had turned to face the sunrise, while others were wandering about stretching their legs. One particular group had even sat down on the wet grass, plates and coffee jugs spread around them as for a picnic.
I spotted a catering trolley on the grass not far away with a waiter hunched busily over it. My hunger growing ever greater, I made my way towards it and was just about to tap the waiter on the shoulder when he turned and rushed past me, his arms burdened with three large plates – upon which I glimpsed scrambled eggs, sausages, mushrooms, tomatoes. I watched him go hurrying off, then decided I would not budge from beside the trolley until he returned.
As I waited, I surveyed the scene around me and saw how needless had been my worries concerning my ability to cope with the various demands presented to me in this city. As ever, my experience and my instincts had proved more than sufficient to see me through. Of course I felt a certain disappointment about the evening, but then, as I thought about it further, I could see the inappropriateness of such feelings. After all, if a community could reach some sort of an equilibrium without having to be guided by an outsider, then so much the better.
When after several minutes the waiter had not returned – throughout which time I had been continually teased by the various aromas rising from the hot canisters on the trolley – I decided there was no good reason why I should not serve myself. I had already taken a plate and was bending down searching the lower tiers for some utensils, when I became conscious of a number of figures standing behind me. Turning, I found myself looking at the porters.
As far as I could make out, all of the dozen or so I had last seen gathered together around Gustav’s sick-bed were now here before me. As I had turned, some had lowered their eyes, but a few continued to regard me intensely.
‘My goodness,’ I said, doing my best to hide the fact that I had been about to serve myself breakfast. ‘My goodness, what’s happened? Naturally, I had meant to come up and see how Gustav was getting on. I was assuming he’d have gone to hospital by now. That’s to say, that he was in good hands. I was certainly about to come up as soon as …’ I paused, seeing the expressions of grief on their faces.
The bearded porter stepped forward and coughed awkwardly. ‘He passed away half an hour ago, sir. He’d had trouble on and off over the years, but he’d been very fit, and so it was very unexpected for us. Very unexpected.’
‘I’m very sorry.’ I found that indeed I felt great sorrow at this news. ‘Very sorry indeed. I’m very grateful to you, to all of you, for coming out here like this to tell me. As you know, I had only known him for a few days, but he had been very kind to me, assisting me with my bags and so on.’
I could see the bearded porter’s colleagues all looking at him, egging him on to say something. The bearded porter took a deep breath.
‘Of course, Mr Ryder,’ he said, ‘we came to find you because we knew you’d want to hear the news quickly. But also’ – he suddenly lowered his gaze – ‘but also, you see, sir, before he passed away, Gustav, he kept wanting to know. Wanting to know if you’d made your speech yet. That’s to say, the little speech you were going to make on our behalf, sir. Right to the end, he was very keen to hear news of it.’
All the porters had now lowered their eyes and were waiting silently for my response.
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘So you’re not aware then of what occurred in the auditorium.’
‘We’ve all been with Gustav until just now, sir,’ said the bearded porter. ‘He’s only just now been taken away. You must excuse us, Mr Ryder. It was very rude of us not to be present while you were giving your address, especially if you were so good as to remember your little promise to us and …’
‘Look,’ I broke in gently, ‘many things didn’t go as planned. I’m surprised you haven’t heard, but then I suppose, as you say, in these circumstances …’ I paused, then, taking a breath, said in a firmer voice: ‘I’m sorry, but the fact is, many things, not just the little speech I had prepared for you, did not go ahead as planned.’
‘So you’re saying, sir …’ The bearded porter trailed off, then hung his head in disappointment. The other porters, who had all been staring at me, one by one lowered their eyes again. Then one of them near the back of the group burst out in an almost angry tone:
‘Gustav kept asking. Right to the end he kept asking. “Any news of Mr Ryder yet?” He kept asking that.’
A number of his colleagues quickly pacified him, and there then followed a lengthy silence. Finally the bearded porter said, still looking down at the grass:
‘It makes no difference. We’ll all carry on trying, just the same. In fact we’ll now try harder than ever. We won’t let Gustav down. He was always our inspiration and nothing will change now he’s gone. We’ve got an uphill struggle, we always have had, we know that, and it’s not going to get any easier now. But we won’t let standards slip, not one little bit. We’ll remember Gustav and we’ll keep at it. Of course, your little speech, sir, if it had been possible, it would have been … it would have helped us, no doubt about it. But of course, if at the time it seemed to you inappropriate …’
‘Look,’ I said, now beginning to lose patience, ‘you’ll all find out soon enough what occurred. Really, I’m surprised you haven’t made it your business to find out more about the larger concerns of your community. What’s more, you seem to have no idea what sort of life I have to lead. Of the vast responsibilities I have to carry. Even now, as I stand here talking to you, I’m having to think about my next engagement in Helsinki. If everything hasn’t quite gone as planned for you, I’m sorry. But you really have no right to come bothering me like this …’
The words faded in my mouth. In the distance over to my right was a path leading from the concert hall into the surrounding woods. I had for some time been aware of a stream of people emerging from the building and disappearing off behind the trees – on their way home, presumably, for a couple of hours’ rest before the start of the day. I now spotted among them Sophie and Boris, walking purposefully along the path. The little boy had once more placed his arm supportively around his mother, but otherwise there was nothing about them to alert the casual onlooker to their distress. I tried to see the expressions on their faces, but they were too far away, and the next moment they too had vanished behind the trees.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said more gently, turning back to the porters, ‘but you must all excuse me now.’
‘We won’t let standards slip,’ the bearded porter said quietly, still looking at the ground. ‘We’ll do it one day. You’ll see.’
‘Excuse me.’
Just as I was moving away the waiter came rushing back, pushing the old men aside to reach his trolley. Remembering the plate I was still holding behind my back, I thrust it at him.
‘The catering this morning
has been appalling,’ I said coldly, before hurrying off.
38
The path cut a completely straight line through the woods so that I could see clearly to the tall iron gate at the far end. Sophie and Boris had already covered a surprising amount of ground, and although I walked as fast as I could, after a few minutes I had hardly reduced the distance between us. I was continually impeded, furthermore, by a group of young people walking a little in front of me who, whenever I tried to overtake, increased their pace or else spread themselves right across the path. In the end, when I could see that Sophie and Boris were about to reach the street, I broke into a run and burst through the young people, no longer caring what sort of impression I created.
After this I maintained a steady trot, yet was still not even within hailing distance as Sophie and Boris passed through the gate. By the time I reached the gate myself, my breath was coming in gasps and I was obliged to pause.
I had come out onto one of the boulevards near the heart of the city. The morning sun was lighting up the opposite pavement. The shops were still closed, but there was already a fair number of people walking about, going off to their day’s work. I then saw, over to my left, a queue in the process of boarding a tram, and Sophie and Boris bringing up its rear. I broke out again into a trot, but the tram must have been further away than I had thought for, although I kept up a good pace, I did not reach it until after the entire queue had boarded and the vehicle was about to pull away. Only by waving frantically did I manage to stall the driver and struggle aboard myself.
The Unconsoled Page 60
