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You enjoy the academic accompanying? I asked Terese.
Some of it, but working with faculty and the visiting artists are the best
part, but unless you're permanent staff, you don't get benefits, or a steady
income.
I could see that the life of a freelance pianist could be very uncertain
indeed. But then, all life was uncertain. So, I sipped my wine, and mostly
listened, as they got back to discussing the beauty and the history of the
Rachmaninov Vocalise, and the fact that it was perhaps the most beautiful
piece of vocal music written without actual words.
19
W E DID G0 to church on Sunday, but Klaus's sermon wasn't quite so good, with
the emphasis on forgiving the unforgivable. I still wasn't that charitable.
Later, in midafternoon, Llysette and Terese practiced, mostly the Vocalise,
and early in the evening, the three of us went to Cipoletto's for dinner.
Monday and Tuesday, Llysette taught and practiced in the afternoon in her
studio with Terese. Wednesday, it rained, a cold downpour that would have
turned into black ice, except that the sun came out around three for long
enough to warm up the sidewalks and roads to evaporate the incipient ice. That
was good, because I was already late and didn't get to the post centre until
after four, and the way I hurried I'd probably have slipped or skidded into
something.
Maurice was almost waiting by the postal wicket. Couple of big packages for
you, Doktor, he offered, with the grin he usually gave me when he could hand
over a stack of circulars. And some letters and bills, too.
You're so cheerful, you wretch. He was right about the bills, which included
one from NBEI for the utilities, one from New Bruges Telewire, and one that
looked to be the annual property tariff from the town itself. I eased the
envelopes into my inside jacket pocket.
Both boxes were oblong, ten inches by a foot, and a good foot and a half high
or long, except the official stickers of the Ministry of Environment were on
the short side, as if they were to be opened that way. They were heavy, but
the last heavy package I'd gotten from the federal district had literally
exploded.
Not without some misgivings, I carried them up the hill from the post centre
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to the car park and put them in the boot of the Stanley. All that meant that I
was late picking up both Llysette and Terese. They were awaiting me at the
music and theatre building.
I thought you were the punctual type, offered the accompanist.
There were two large packages in the post, and I had to cart them back to the
Stanley.
Llysette didn't say anything. She didn't have to; the look she gave me told me
to be careful. I didn't get around to dealing with the two boxes until after I
finished cleaning up after dinner, when the ladies retired to the parlor to
discuss obscurities in phrasing in the Vocalise.
So I was finally free to take my packages out of the boot of the Stanley and
set them beside the stone foundation of the car barn, close to the corner.
Then I taped my new razor knife to a makeshift crossarm attached to my newish
rake and rummaged until I found the old mirror, cracked from the last time I'd
attempted opening a package from a protected position. This time was
different. It took much longer, because nothing exploded. The first box did in
fact contain paper, a set of six manuals, all bound.
With a nod, I went to work on the second one. It didn't explode, either. I
felt a little sheepish with all my precautions, but better sheepish than dead.
Then I had to take apart my contraption and put the tools back in the tool
case and close up the car barn. It was well past eight by the time I carried
the open boxes into the study.
As I passed through the parlor Llysette looked up, eyebrows arched in a
question.
Books . . . technical manuals, I think.
A faint smile of relief appeared, and then she was back to rehearsing.
In the study, listening to Llysette practicing phrases in the parlor, I took
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