Preludes, page 17
“I saw Louisa hovering around you. I never wanted to ask, since it’s none of my business, but were you two, well, you know. Were you together?”
Fred scrunched his brows for a moment. “No. Not really. I mean, she was always hanging around when I first got here, and she found my email address pretty quickly. I guess we did go out together a few times, and there were often cameras. I sometimes wondered if she arranged for that.” His eyes lost focus for a moment. “I can see how that must have looked.”
“I wasn’t asking because I was upset. You’re both adults, and it’s none of my business.”
He stared down at his coffee. “I think she wanted more than I was willing to give. She’s full of energy. It makes her a valuable member of the orchestra, and she is fun to be with, but she doesn’t have the depth that really draws me.” His intense gaze bore into her, as if he were looking at her soul. It was just for a moment, a hair’s breadth of time, but it lasted an eternity. The cup of hot tea disappeared beneath her touch; the restaurant vanished and time stood still. It was just her and Fred, alone in the universe, linked irrevocably by that gaze and the cord that connected their hearts.
Then, just as quickly, the moment was gone. Fred withdrew his glance and the cup and the restaurant and the entire world snapped back into being, and Anne wondered if she had imagined everything. Was still imagining everything.
“… still calls often, but I’ve been busy.” She missed the start of his sentence. He must be talking about Louisa still. “Between rehearsals and meetings and showing Ben about the place, I’ve put her off a lot. I don’t think she’s too pleased about it. I don’t know if she’s looking for a relationship or just sex, but she’s looking in the wrong place if she’s still got her eye on me.”
He looked at her again and started to laugh. “Am I shocking you, Anne? Are you surprised? You shouldn’t be. You should know I’m not that sort of person. When I’m in the game, I’m in for keeps. Or as much as I can be.” His voice went cold again, just for a moment.
“Besides,” he warmed up again, “Ben spoke to me last night when I got back from the concert. It seems like you and he have been getting together behind my back.”
“Fred! You don’t think… anyway, would it matter? I mean…” She stumbled with her words. Was he angry? He didn’t look angry. More amused.
“Don’t worry, Anne. I was joking. I know why you met. Ben also asked about Louisa. It looks like everyone thought we were a couple.”
“You were photographed all over town together in the summer.” She cocked her head and watched him. He didn’t turn red, but he let out a huff of frustration.
“I think I was flattered by her attention. Yes, Anne, I know. I’m not a child anymore. But for the first time in quite a while, it felt like someone liked me for myself, rather than for a chance to get in with the maestro or for a photo-op. Even in Italy, most people I met seemed far more interested in the cachet of being seen with me than in actually knowing me as a person. It feels a bit like tooting my own horn, but I understand something about those characters in the books you used to love so much. You know what I mean, the men who worry that the ladies only want them for their twelve thousand a year or whatever it was, or for their fancy estates. Would your Elizabeth Bennet have fancied that Darcy fellow as much if he was a bricklayer? Or an impoverished music teacher?”
“Now you’re being silly. I think she would have, really. She learned to value the man himself. She joked about being attracted by his estate, but if she only wanted security, she could have had that before. She had a perfectly good offer from her slimy cousin, and from Darcy himself, the first time he proposed. And while Mr. Darcy did use his wealth to save her family, I think he would have found another way to do it if he hadn’t been so rich. It was his character that was his real wealth, for her at least.”
Just like you.
Instead of voicing this thought, she added, “Do you think Louisa just wanted to sleep with the conductor?”
Fred drained his coffee. “I wouldn’t be quite so blunt about it, but I never had the impression she was interested in me as a person. She never asked those important questions, you know. Do I like camping? How do I feel about baseball? What do I like to read? Do I agree with Plato or Aristotle?”
This was some of the most honest conversation Anne and Fred had engaged in for so long. Eight years, in fact. Even though they were talking about another woman, she was touched that even now he felt he could confide in her. Almost without thinking, she replied to his rhetorical questions.
“Only for a night or two, love it, the classics and modern literary fiction, and you see the merits in both.”
He put down his cup and reached across the table to gather her hands in his. “After all this time, you remember. You know me better than anybody in the world. I was…” He stopped short. Grand pause. Subito.
“I’m not sure Louisa even knows who Plato and Aristotle are. Some musicians are powerfully intellectual with a wide range of interests and a wider breadth of knowledge. Some are more focused in their pursuits, all about their music and their instrument, but with little other background. Louisa is closer to the second group. She is fun and attractive, but I want more than to discuss the latest movie or who wore what better.”
“From what Ben told me, she writes poetry as well. There must be something more to her.”
“Perhaps.” He let go of her hands and glanced at his watch, then called for another espresso.
“Perhaps there is something more to her. But I didn’t see a lot of it this summer. I hope Ben knows what he’s doing. To be honest, I think he could do far better than her. He’s an educated man, a thinking man. And for all her musical talent, I really don’t see much else in her. But, unlike some people,” the voice went cold again, “I’m not about to tell my friend who should or shouldn’t make him happy. If he wants to see her, he has my blessing. Not,” he scowled, “that he needs it.”
The waiter brought over the small demitasse, which Fred drained in one gulp. “I need to go. I have a brilliant piece of music to conduct tonight. Thanks, Anne. You’re a gem.” He pulled out a credit card and refused Anne’s protestations over splitting the bill. “I invited you. My treat.”
“You said you wanted to talk about something,” she reminded him as they were about to head in their different directions.
“Yes. Of course. We’ll just have to do this again. I’ll call you.” He leaned forward and gave her another kiss on the cheek before striding off into the crowds that filled the busy sidewalks. Anne stood for a long time, watching him grow smaller and smaller as he disappeared into the distance.
Chapter Eighteen
Molto Agitato
“Annie, I’ve had a fabulous idea!” Sophia’s voice rang from the telephone. Anne had the phone on speaker while she fixed her coffee, and her friend’s bright tones filled the space. “Jeremy was talking to William about his new development up north, and the possibility of using the hall as a concert venue, or for fundraisers. William invited us to see it, and Jeremy suggested Fred come as well. So why not make it a party? William is looking for some dates that will work.”
The coffee was hot in Anne’s hands and she placed the mug on the counter. Was this a good idea? “I’m pretty busy these days, Sophia.”
“Nonsense. I know you teach your classes, but we can find a time that doesn’t interfere. Jeremy thought it might make a useful article for the orchestra’s website, maybe one of the business pages in the paper. Business and the Arts Working Together, that sort of thing. Maybe have one or two orchestra members join us, get some photographs. I’ll arrange a lunch. Now, what about next Tuesday?”
When Sophia had an idea, very little could stop it, and so it was that a small procession of cars trailed their way up to the development site the following week. Anne rode with the Crofts and Shep Choi, the journalist who had written the exposé on Anne the previous spring. William was already at the site, and Fred and Ben had hired a car for the day. In the end, six other musicians were coming as well—Louisa, an oboe player named Henrietta, and four string players who were going to perform a string quartet on the site for a short video. Sophia had even arranged for perfect weather, with clear skies and pleasant temperatures, everything a late September day should be.
William greeted them all with the smooth manners and practised smile of a businessman. He knew he was on display and was playing his role, with grand gestures, elegant words, and flashing white teeth. He welcomed the Crofts with a hearty handshake, and Anne with a kiss on the cheek that seemed a bit more for the camera than for her. But he whispered in her ear, “I’m so delighted you joined them.” Them, not Us. She nodded her understanding. This was as much his public performance as Preludes was hers, and anything personal was best left for another place and time.
Fred, when he arrived, wore a forced smile. It would look fine in photographs, but Anne knew him too well to believe it was sincere. Whether he was unimpressed with being dragged to a construction site in the middle of nowhere, or unhappy at being pressed into William’s company, she didn’t know. But his eyes softened when he spotted her, and he strode over, across the gravel site, to greet her with a quick hug.
Before long, everyone had arrived, introductions were made, and they gathered for the tour. Shep was included in the group as a guest, as welcome as the others, despite the professional camera slung about his neck and the tablet and stylus in his jacket pocket. Every so often he would snap a photo, or ask William to repeat something as he recorded a short video.
Anne was surprised at how much progress had been made in the few weeks since her first visit to the site. The townhouses looked all but complete, and the naked bones of the tower now were mostly hidden behind walls and concrete. Piles of construction materials decorated the brown lot, which was marked by the tire tracks of countless heavy vehicles as they carried and hoisted and rearranged these metal bars, coils of cable, and sheets of siding into buildings where people would soon live.
It was an unlikely place for a gathering of classical musicians, and more unlikely still for the short performance that the quartet would give after lunch, but the incongruity of it would make for an eye-catching series of videos. Anne only hoped her presence in these would be as small as possible.
“Watch the warning signs and tape,” William remarked as he began the tour. “The whole place is an active construction site, and we have to take appropriate safety precautions. And please, do not remove your hardhats or boots until we are out of this zone.” He indicated a series of noticeboards, and Anne watched as everybody’s hands crept to their heads to ensure that the heavy protective caps were still in place. “Let me give you an overview, and then we’ll move into that building there…”
He described his vision, as he had to Anne on their previous visit, talking about the community, the school, the marina, and the performance space he envisioned. They wandered through those structures that were deemed safe enough for the group, down to the waterfront, where the slips and wharves were already hosting a handful of recreational boats, and at last, to one of the scaffolding elevators that would take them to a platform where they could survey the site from several stories up.
Anne’s stomach dropped to her ankles as she watched the lift approach them with its open cage. Her recent adventures up the CN Tower notwithstanding, she did not enjoy heights at all. In her own building, where the elevator was a safe little box that started in one place and ended in another, she could forget that it was carrying her up and down a shaft, that its system of cables and cranks were hoisting her up and down so many unthinkable metres of nothingness. Here, in the open air and with no comforting walls and mirrors to distract her, this fiction was impossible to maintain in her mind.
“I’ll stay down here, thanks,” she murmured to whoever was listening.
“Anne? You okay?” Sophia was at her side.
“Yeah, fine. I’m… I’m happy to stay here on the ground. I’m not crazy about heights.”
William must have overheard, and he stepped in close. “You’ll love it once you’re up there. I won’t let anything happen to you. It’s all perfectly safe. We’ve got rules and regulations we need to follow as well.” He placed a hand on the small of her back and began to guide her in the direction of the contraption.
“No, William, please, I’ll be far happier here. I have my tablet. I can entertain myself quite well while you’re up there. No need to hurry back.” She turned to face him directly, refusing his gentle nudge.
“Don’t be silly, Anne. We need a photo from the platform. It won’t be the same without you.” His blue eyes did not quite meet hers and his smile was one for the newspapers and not for her. A sliver of discomfort edged its way into her consciousness. Is this what being involved with William would entail, whether that involvement was romance or friendship? Would she always be pressured to grin and perform for the camera despite her own inclinations? She stiffened under his hand and felt it drop an inch towards her backside.
“Annie? Is everything alright?” Fred now turned towards them from where he had been chatting with Louisa and Diego, the violist. It was a small enough group that no conversations were private.
“Yes, yes, just fine, Maestro.” William’s public smile flashed in his direction, and Anne let herself feel a moment of relief. “Our lovely composer is anxious about the height, and I’m assuring her. You’ll come, won’t you, Anne?”
“I would really prefer to stay down here.” She was an adult. They could not force her into that lift, could they?
“There you have it, William.” Fred turned his hand palm-up in a very European gesture. “She’s an independent person and can make up her own mind about this.” He let out a small chuckle and smiled at the other man, but his eyes were hard.
“Of course, Anne. I would never make you do anything you don’t want. You can sit on any of those crates there, or the cement blocks in the shade. Just keep away from those girders.” His smile was as friendly as Fred’s, and he turned away to address the rest of the group.
“You okay, Annie?” Fred’s voice was soft in her ear. “Was he pressuring you?”
She shook her head. “He just wanted the group photo. He’s just in his Property Developer role. He’s the star of today’s show and he wants it to be perfect.”
Fred’s icy eyes softened. “Just let me know if you’re not comfortable. Mind if I go up? I’m curious to see it all from up there.” He gave her a quick hug and pressed a kiss to her cheek before moving back to the group, who were now filing into the cage.
“Should I stay with you?” Sophia slid up beside her. “I don’t mind.”
“No, I’ll be fine here. You know you want to see it. Have fun,” she called out as she waved to the group. She smiled at the sea of excited grins as the lift began its ascent. What she was not expecting was the scowl on Louisa’s face, a scowl directed right at her.
Lunch was an uncomfortable affair, for Anne, at least. The food, as ordered by Sophia, was excellent and the excited conversation among most of the group animated. But now there was an awkward dynamic, and Anne felt in the middle of it all. William was busy enough showing off his site that he was not able to spend a great deal of time with her. But when he did, just enough for the others to raise their eyebrows but not enough to comment on it, Fred’s face grew hard. And now, when Fred turned his attention to her, Louisa glowered in response. Ben seemed intent on engaging Louisa in conversation, with mixed results, and Sophia sat back with that look and a small smirk, as if watching a melodrama on television.
From her conversation with Ben recently, Anne had thought that Louisa was as smitten with the Englishman as he seemed to be with her, but perhaps he was mistaken in what he had seen. Despite his, and Fred’s, assurances that there was nothing between the conductor and the horn player, Louisa still seemed quite focused on him. Anne watched over her lemonade and chocolate-caramel cookie as Louisa smiled at something that Ben said, then reached over and laid a hand on Fred’s arm to draw him into the conversation. Was she flirting with both men? Or was this a show for some reason? Anne let out a soft sigh and tried to focus on Jeremy’s description of the view from the platform.
After a while, the members of the quartet went to find their instruments, which had been kept in the temperature-controlled site office, and prepare for their performance, while Shep set up his own equipment to capture the show on video. The others got up from their tables to wander around the permitted area and stretch their legs. Fred, Ben, and Louisa were strolling back in the direction of the least-complete building, while Diego and Sophia were discussing something about Renaissance art, from what Anne could hear. She was content to sit and enjoy a few moments of solitude, even in the middle of this busy gathering. No music filled her head today; she was happy enough for the silence. Her legs were getting cramped from sitting on the uncomfortable bench and she rose to wander over into the shade by the skeletal structure, letting her eyes drift to the lake that sparkled just past the construction site.
Then a shout came from somewhere behind her. “Louisa, no! Don’t be silly.”
That was Fred’s voice, followed quickly by a laugh. Anne spun around and her eyes widened. A short distance away, Louisa was balancing on one of the metal girders William had warned them about, arms outstretched like a tightrope walker, head thrown back with laughter.
“It’s fun! Come and join me.”
She jumped down, but immediately rushed back around the pile to repeat her climb. All the while, both men yelled to her to come down. She walked to the very edge, a diver about to do a swan dive into a pool with no water. “Come up with me, Fred. You can see for miles. You can keep me safe. It’s fun!”
