Page 41 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt
‘Hmm. The rich, boring man, or the interesting murderer,’ she pondered. ‘Maybe it sounds insane, but I think I’d have to take my chance with the Phantom. I suppose, if he did turn on me, that it’s better to lead a short, passionate life than a long, boring one.’
You are very wise.
‘No, I think you have us confused, Bo. You are the wise one. You don’t speak, but you are able to convey in one written sentence what it would take me hours to say.’
It is a necessity.
‘Is it?’ She smiled and looked out of the window. ‘Sometimes it looks like you wish to talk.’ My stomach tightened. So many words hung on my lips. ‘Anyway, why won’t you play for me, Bo? I promise, Maurice and Jondrette won’t dare bother you now.’
You have not yet played for me...
‘I am merely an amateur who has taught herself to play through books and practice. In truth, I do not even know if I possess any ability whatsoever! I would be embarrassed toplay for you. You, on the other hand, are a student of Monsieur Ivan!’
I am not yet perfect, I wrote.
‘Well, no one can ever be perfect. But you’re receiving lessons at the Conservatoire de Paris. I don’t know anyone else our age who has ever been admitted. It’s my dream to go there one day, but...’ – she gestured around her – ‘how could I ever afford the fees?’ Elle cast her eyes downward, and in that moment, I thought my heart would break in two.
You will go, one day.
‘Thank you. But I doubt that’s true. I can’t imagine the day when I’ll ever be allowed out of here, let alone through the doors of the conservatory.’ Elle’s eyes were beginning to fill with tears.
Every fibre of my being wanted to open my mouth and give her platitudes, to assure her that I was living proof thatanythingis possible. I knew, however, that it was imperative I resist.
I had a thought.
I quickly untied the strings which secured my violin in its broken case and lifted the instrument to my chin. I grabbed my bow, closed my eyes, and began Beethoven’s Sonata No. 9. As I played for Elle, I felt my performance elevate, the importance of each note heightened. I flicked the bow away from the violin to conclude the piece and dared to open my eyes to gauge her reaction.
She was staring at me, her own eyes wide and no longer weepy.
‘Bo... That was incredible. I knew you must have been talented for Monsieur Ivan to take you on, but even so...’
I bowed my head. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins, and knowing that my performance had the desired effect made my heart soar. Suddenly, it dawned on me thatmy audience had been considerably bigger than just Elle. I slowly turned inwards to face the common room, and saw a sea of stunned faces looking my way. At the back of the room, Madame Gagnon’s eyebrows were raised so high that I thought they might lift her off the ground. To my total surprise, she slowly raised her hands and began to clap. The rest of the room began to follow suit, and shortly, I was the recipient of rapturous applause. Even Maurice and Jondrette, though not clapping, had a look of surprise on their faces. Elle must have sensed I was becoming overwhelmed, so she grabbed my hand, and it was about the most perfect moment of my life.
The applause died down, and Madame Gagnon decided to pay me a compliment. ‘Bravo. Despite your age, I sense that you could give Monsieur Baudin a run for his money.’
‘See,’ Elle whispered, ‘you must have been good.’ She kissed me on the cheek. ‘Thank you, Bo.’
Blood rushed immediately to my face and I tried to limit the embarrassment by packing away my violin.When can I hear you play?I wrote, once I had secured the string on my case.
‘You think I wish to play for younow, after that?! It would be like a newborn infant attempting to recite verse to Shakespeare.’
It would make me happy.
Elle put her smiling face in her hands. ‘Ah! All right. I will practise over the weekend and be ready for when you come next Tuesday. At the very least you might be able to give me some tips on how I might improve.’
When Evelyn arrived to take me back to Boulogne-Billancourt, Madame Gagnon deposited me at the gates, and relayed what had happened.
‘He is a great talent, and welcome here.’
On the bus home, Evelyn picked up on my joyous mood.
‘I cannot believe you played for the children! This is fantastic news, Bo. I know how happy Monsieur Landowski will be to hear that you are growing in confidence.’
What Evelyn did not know, of course, was that I had not played for the children. Just one single girl, who seemed to be rapidly changing the direction of my life.
When I returned to the Apprentis d’Auteuil on Tuesday, Elle grabbed me and told me to follow her. We crossed the forecourt, and to my surprise, Madame Gagnon opened the door and permitted us to pass.
‘She has given permission for me to perform alone in the common room. I am too shy to deliver a show for the masses as you did the other day.’
