Page 67 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt
‘So do I. She is so... herself. Something that you and I might never master.’
I chuckled. ‘You might be right there. Listen, you should take your seats. It’s not ticketed tonight, and you don’t want to miss out.’
She gave me a peck on the cheek. ‘Good luck. Try not to ruin Pip’s career...’ Elle walked off to grab Karine before making her way inside the Gewandhaus.
Pip was clearly nervous, and not without cause. There was a great deal of buzz around his piece, and this event wasbetter attended than usual. As his audience moved in to take their seats, he paced anxiously around the foyer.
‘Do not worry, my friend,’ I reassured him. ‘We will ensure we do your fine piece justice this evening.’
‘Thank you, Bo. You make a valuable contribution on your cello.’
I put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I must take my seat. Good luck, Pip.’
After taking my place onstage, I watched as Pip was led in by Principal Walther Davisson, along with the other five composers who were sharing the showcase. They took a seat in the front row of the Großer Saal, each one looking paler than the last with nerves. Then Principal Davisson took to the stage, and received a warm round of applause. He, like Goerdeler, had become a stalwart figure of calm and reason in these turbulent times. All of us at the conservatory felt that he was our champion and protector.
‘Thank you all, thank you.’ He raised his hand, and the applause died down. ‘Welcome to the Gewandhaus, and to the end-of-term performances. I am sure you are all excited to hear the results of your contemporaries’ hard work and dedication, so I shall keep my wittering short. I wish to commend everyone gathered here tonight on an incredible year of resilience and determination. Most of you will be familiar with my advice to put on your imaginary horse blinkers, so that you might not be distracted by all that is going on in the world around you. Tonight is not just a celebration of the six young composers you will hear from, but all of your achievements throughout the last year. I am extraordinarily proud to be your principal. Please, give yourselves a round of applause.’ The Gewandhaus obliged, and the room was filled with whoops and cheers. ‘In the coming years, people are going to look to you for comfort, for happiness, and for escape. You are allwell equipped to deliver. See that you do.’ There was a stillness in the hall as the congregation reflected on his words. ‘Now, I shall introduce our first composer of the evening – Petra Weber. Petra’s piece, “The Ascension of Hope...”’
As Davisson continued his speech, I looked at Pip. His eyes were darting around the Gewandhaus. Unfortunately, he was last on the bill, and would have to wait approximately ninety minutes before his piece was performed. The prospect must have been agonising for him.
Eventually, after five successful performances, it was his turn to take to the stage. When his moment came, I noted that his legs were trembling a little. He took a brief bow, then sat down at the piano. The conductor raised his baton, and we began.
Pip needn’t have worried. The lights dimmed and the audience were transported to a euphoric place. The delicate harmonies and swelling crescendos of Pip’s score didn’t fail to land. Somehow, the piece felt charged, pulsating with emotion and capturing the resilience of the entire conservatory. It was a pleasure to be a part of. As the final notes played – a lingering trickle on the harp – there was a brief silence, followed by rapturous applause. The audience stood for Pip, and this time his bow was full of confidence.
There were joyous celebrations in the Gewandhaus foyer afterwards. I felt a little emotional watching Pip being slapped on the back and congratulated by peers and professors alike. There was even a newspaper journalist who asked him for an interview. It was undeniable that he had worked furiously over the last few months, and deserved to reap the rewards. I saw Karine fighting through the crowds to embrace him. ‘My very own Grieg,’ she said. ‘Chéri, your glittering career has just begun.’ It was hard to disagree with her assessment.
Champagne was provided by the conservatory, and it seemed that this year the boat had been well and truly pushedout. The fizz flowed like water, and the majority were indulging heavily. One couldn’t blame them – they were merely seizing the day and celebrating the moment. I was offered flute after flute, but at each opportunity turned them down.
I have slowly let my guard down over many years, opening my mouth to speak and even tell others my story – something I never anticipated sharing. But alcohol loosens the lips and dulls the senses, so I have found it best to avoid what many consider to be the sweetest nectar. It became apparent early on in the evening that I was in a minority, and as such, made the decision to return to my lodgings – happy, but sober.
I went to inform Elle of my decision. ‘I think I’ll stay out a little longer with Karine,’ she said.
‘As you wish, my love. Shall we meet for coffee in the morning?’
‘Perfect,’ she replied, and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
I turned to Elle’s roommate. ‘Goodnight, Karine. Please tell Pip once again what a pleasure it was to play his music tonight.’
‘I will, Bo, thank you! Goodnight.’
When I left the Gewandhaus it was nearing midnight and there were no trams running, so I began the twenty-minute stroll home. In the daytime, it was a very pleasant walk, but now the sun had gone down, the night air was chilly. I pulled my coat collar up around my neck. The road from the Gewandhaus back to Johannisgasse was long and empty, lined by enormous fir trees, and dimly lit by gas lamps at intervals of fifty feet or so. To either side of the road lay enormous open fields, used primarily by the citizens of Leipzig for exercise or walking dogs. At night, it produced an eerie effect, making me feel as though I was walking on a floating bridge over a deep abyss. Owing to the lateness of the hour, there wasn’t another soul in sight.
I’d been walking for ten minutes when I heard the snap of a twig behind me. I turned around, expecting to see a fox, orperhaps a deer making its way across the road, passing from one field to another. But to my surprise, there was nothing in sight. I paused, silently scanning the area for signs of movement. Seeing none, I continued on my way. After walking for another twenty feet, I could have sworn I heard footsteps coming from the other side of the trees. I spun around once again.
‘Hello?’ I cried. ‘Is someone there?’ Silence greeted me once more.
Feeling uneasy now, I quickened my pace. Sure enough, the footsteps I’d heard before became louder, the individual now unable to move with any subtlety. Formulating a plan, and knowing that attack is the best form of defence, I wheeled around on my heels, and sprinted towards the trees, and the footsteps.
‘Why are you following me? Why won’t you show yourself? Don’t be a coward, if you have something to say to me, I want to hear it!’ I ran in and out of the trees, expecting to catch someone lurking. Finding nothing, I continued onto the field, where I was surrounded by darkness. I stood deathly still, and listened for the footsteps again. After a moment, I heard them again, the squelchy earth of the field betraying the mysterious individual. The footsteps were receding deeper into the darkness, and away from me. Satisfied that whoever had been following me was warded off by the confrontation, I returned to the road and broke into a jog for the remainder of my journey.
I was out of breath when I approached my front door, and a little shaken, too. I put my hand in my pocket and fumbled with my keys, eventually dropping them on the floor behind me. As I turned to pick them up, I saw a shadowy figure dart behind a building on the corner of the street.
Had he returned to Leipzig? Did he know who I was?
I assessed my options, which were limited. If the mysterious figure was Kreeg, then running up to confront him againwould be foolish. In all probability he was carrying his gun, and would just shoot me dead. My immediate thought was to protect Elle, but if I were to travel back down the long road to the Gewandhaus, I would lead Eszu right to her, putting my love, and our friends, in danger. It was clear to me that I had to take the only option available, and continue into my lodgings. I put the key in the door and made my way swiftly up to my room. I locked the bedroom door behind me, and didn’t turn the light on. Then I made my way to the window to observe the street below, looking for signs of the shadowy figure. All seemed quiet.
Nonetheless, I thought it sensible to take precautions. From my bedside drawer, I grabbed my pocket knife. Then I returned to my vantage point at the window and closed the curtains this time, save for a single sliver of glass for me to look through. From my position I could just about make out the corner of Elle’s lodgings. At least I would be able to see that she and Karine returned home safely.
This would be a long night.
