‘That’s very kind of you,’ I said. ‘But just now I’m taking a short nap …’
‘A short nap?’ There was a flash of irritation in the voice. The next moment the geniality had returned completely. ‘Why, of course, of course. You must be very tired. You’ve come such a long way. So then, let us say, whenever you are ready.’
‘I’ll look forward to meeting you, Mr Hoffman. No doubt, I’ll be down before long.’
‘Please come absolutely in your own time. For my part, I shall continue to wait here – that is, down here in the lobby – however long you care to take. So please don’t hurry at all.’
I thought about this for a moment. Then I said: ‘But Mr Hoffman, you must have so many other things to do.’
‘True, this is a very busy part of the day. But for you, Mr Ryder, I will happily wait here for as long as necessary.’
‘Please, Mr Hoffman, don’t waste your valuable time on my account. I’ll be down presently and then I’ll come and find you.’
‘Mr Ryder, it’s no bother at all. In fact, I’ll be honoured to wait here for you. So as I say, come entirely in your own time. I assure you, I will remain standing here until you arrive.’
I thanked him again and put down the receiver. Sitting up, I looked around me and guessed from the light that it was now the late afternoon. I felt more tired than ever, but there seemed little option other than to go down to the lobby. I got to my feet, went to one of my suitcases and found a less crumpled jacket than the one I was still wearing. As I was changing into it, a strong craving came over me for some coffee and I left my room a few moments later with something approaching urgency.
I emerged from the elevator to find the lobby far livelier than before. All around me, guests were lounging in armchairs, leafing through newspapers or chatting together over cups of coffee. Near the reception desk several Japanese people were greeting one another with much jollity. I was slightly bemused by this transformation and did not notice the hotel manager until he had come right up to me.
He was in his fifties, and was larger and heavier than I had imagined from the voice on the phone. He offered me his hand, beaming broadly. As he did so, I noticed he was short of breath and that his forehead was lightly coated with sweat.
As we shook hands, he repeated several times what an honour my presence represented for the town and for his hotel in particular. Then he leaned forward and said with a confiding air: ‘And let me assure you, sir, all the arrangements for Thursday night are in hand. There really is nothing you need worry about.’
I waited for him to say more, but when he merely went on smiling, I said: ‘Well, that’s good to hear.’
‘No, sir, there really is nothing to worry about.’
There was an awkward pause. After a moment, Hoffman seemed about to say something else, but then stopped himself, gave a laugh and hit me lightly on the shoulder – a gesture I thought unduly familiar. Finally he said: ‘Mr Ryder, if there is anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable, please let me know without delay.’
‘You’re very kind.’
There was another pause. Then he laughed again, shook his head a little and once more hit me on the shoulder.
‘Mr Hoffman,’ I said, ‘was there perhaps something in particular you wished to speak to me about?’
‘Oh, nothing in particular, Mr Ryder. I just wished to greet you and make sure everything was to your satisfaction.’ Then suddenly he gave an exclamation. ‘Of course. Now you mention it, yes, there was something. But it was merely a small matter.’ Yet again, he shook his head and laughed. Then he said: ‘It’s to do with my wife’s albums.’
‘Your wife’s albums?’
‘My wife, Mr Ryder, is a very cultured woman. Naturally she’s a great admirer of yours. In fact she has followed your career with close interest and for some years has been collecting press cuttings about you.’
‘Really? How very good of her.’
‘In fact, she has compiled two albums of cuttings entirely devoted to you. The entries have been arranged chronologically and date back many years. Let me come to the point. It has always been my wife’s great hope that you would one day peruse these albums for yourself. The news that you were to visit our town naturally gave new life to this hope. Nevertheless she knew how busy you would be here and was insistent you should not be bothered on her account. But I could see what she secretly hoped, and so I promised her I would at least raise the matter with you. If you could find even a minute just to cast an eye over them, you have no idea what it would mean to her.’
‘You must convey my gratitude to your wife, Mr Hoffman. I shall be very happy to look at her albums.’
‘Mr Ryder, that’s very good of you! Very good of you indeed! As a matter of fact, I did bring the albums here to the hotel in readiness. But I can guess how busy you must be.’
‘I do have quite a busy schedule. However, I’m sure I’ll be able to find some time for your wife’s albums.’
‘How very good of you, Mr Ryder! But let me stress, the last thing I wish to do is put extra pressure on you. So let me make a suggestion. I will wait for you to indicate when you are ready to inspect the albums. Until you do so, I won’t bother you. Any time, night or day, when you feel the moment is right, please come and find me. I am usually to be found quite easily and I don’t leave the premises until late. I shall stop whatever it is I’m doing and go and fetch the albums. I’d feel much happier leaving it on such a basis. Really, I couldn’t bear to think I was adding further pressure to your schedule.’
‘That’s very considerate of you, Mr Hoffman.’
‘Actually it occurs to me, Mr Ryder. Over the coming days I may give the appearance of being frantically busy. But I would like you to understand, I shall never be too busy to attend to this matter. So even if I look very preoccupied, please don’t be put off.’
‘Very well. I’ll remember that.’
‘Perhaps we should agree on a signal of some sort. I say this because you may come searching for me and see me on the other side of a crowded room. It would be very onerous on you to have to push your way through such a seething mass. And in any case, by the time you reach the point in the room where you first saw me, I may myself have moved off. This is why a signal would be advisable. Something easily distinguishable which you can give above the heads of the crowd.’
‘Indeed, that seems a very sound idea.’
‘Excellent. I am heartened to discover you such an agreeable and kind person, Mr Ryder. If only one could say as much for certain other celebrities we have hosted here. So. It just remains for us to agree a signal. Perhaps I could suggest … well, let us say something like this.’
He raised a hand, palm outwards, the fingers fanned out, and described a motion as though he were wiping a window.
‘Just an example,’ he said, putting his hand quickly behind his back. ‘Of course, another signal may be more to your liking.’
‘No, that signal is fine. I’ll give it to you as soon as I’m ready to look at your wife’s albums. It really is very kind of her to have gone to such trouble.’
‘I know it has given her profound satisfaction. Of course, if later on you think of some other signal you prefer, please phone me from your room, or else leave a message with one of the staff.’
‘You’re most kind, but the signal you suggest seems to me very elegant. Now, Mr Hoffman, I wonder if you would advise me where I might get some good coffee. I feel just now I could drink several cups.’
The manager laughed rather theatrically. ‘I know the feeling very well. I shall take you to the atrium. Please, follow me.’
He led the way to the corner of the lobby and through a pair of heavy swing doors. We entered a long gloomy corridor with dark wood panelling along both walls. There was so little natural light in the corridor that even at this point in the day a row of dim wall lamps had been left on. Hoffman continued to walk briskly ahead of me, turning every few steps to smile over hi
s shoulder. About half-way down, we passed a rather grand-looking doorway and Hoffman, who must have noticed me looking at it, said:
‘Ah yes. Coffee would normally be served there in the drawing room. A splendid room, Mr Ryder, very comfortable. And now further adorned by some hand-made tables I found myself during a recent trip to Florence. I’m sure you’d approve of them. However, just now, as you know, we have closed off the room for Mr Brodsky.’
‘Oh yes. He was in there earlier when I arrived.’
‘He’s still in there, sir. I would take you in to introduce you to each other except, well, I feel this is perhaps not quite the moment. Mr Brodsky may … well, let us say, it may not yet be the moment. Ha ha! But not to worry, there will be many opportunities for you two gentlemen to get to know one another.’
‘Mr Brodsky is in that room now?’
I glanced back towards the doorway and possibly slowed my pace a little. In any case, the manager grasped my arm and began firmly to lead me away.
‘He is indeed, sir. Very well, he’s sitting there silently just now, but I assure you, he will begin again at any moment. And this morning, you know, he rehearsed the orchestra for a full four hours. By all accounts, everything is going extremely well. So please, there’s nothing to worry about.’
The corridor eventually turned a corner after which it grew much brighter. In fact this section of it had windows all along one side causing pools of sunlight to form on the floor. Only when we had gone some way along this section did Hoffman let go of me. As we slowed to a leisurely pace, the manager gave a laugh to cover his embarrassment.
‘The atrium is just here, sir. Essentially it’s a bar, but it’s comfortable and you will be served coffee and whatever else you desire. Please, this way.’
We turned off the corridor and went under an arch.
‘This annexe,’ Hoffman said, leading me in, ‘was completed three years ago. We call it the atrium and we’re rather proud of it. It was designed for us by Antonio Zanotto.’
We came into a bright spacious hall. Owing to the glass ceiling high above us there was something of the feeling of stepping out into a courtyard. The floor was a vast expanse of white tiles, at the centre of which, dominating everything, was a fountain – a tangle of nymph-like figures in marble gushing water with some force. In fact it struck me the water pressure was quite excessive; one could hardly look across to any part of the atrium without having to peer through the fine mist hovering in the air. Even so, I managed quickly to ascertain that each corner of the atrium had its own bar, with its separate collection of high-stools, easy chairs and tables. Waiters in white uniforms were criss-crossing the floor and there appeared to be a fair number of guests spread about the place – though such was the feeling of space one hardly noticed them.
I could see the manager watching me with a smug expression, waiting for me to express approval of our surroundings. At that moment, however, the need for coffee came over me so strongly that I simply turned away and made for the nearest of the bars.
I had already seated myself on a high-stool, my elbows up on the bar counter, when the manager caught up with me. He snapped his fingers at the barman, who was in any case coming to serve me, saying: ‘Mr Ryder would like a pot of coffee. Kenyan!’ Then, turning back to me, he said: ‘I would enjoy nothing better just now than to join you, Mr Ryder. Converse in a leisurely way about music and the arts. Unfortunately there are a number of things I must do which I cannot possibly delay further. I wonder, sir, if you’d be so good as to excuse me?’
Although I insisted he had been more than kind, he spent several more minutes taking his leave of me. Then at last he glanced at his watch, let out an exclamation and hurried off.
Left alone, I must quickly have drifted off into my own thoughts, for I did not notice the barman return. He must have done so, however, for I was soon drinking coffee, staring at the mirrored wall behind the bar – in which I could see not only my own reflection but much of the room behind me. After a while, for some reason, I found myself re-playing in my head key moments from a football match I had attended many years earlier – an encounter between Germany and Holland. I adjusted my posture on the high-stool – I could see I was hunching excessively – and tried recalling the names of the players in the Dutch team that year. Rep, Krol, Haan, Neeskens. After several minutes I had succeeded in remembering all but two of the players, but these last two names remained just beyond the rim of my recall. As I tried to remember, the sound of the fountain behind me, which at first I had found quite soothing, began to annoy me. It seemed that if only it would stop, my memory would unlock and I would finally remember the names.
I was still trying to remember when a voice said behind me:
‘Excuse me, it’s Mr Ryder, isn’t it?’
I turned to find a fresh-faced young man in his early twenties. When I greeted him, he came up eagerly to the bar.
‘I do hope I’m not intruding,’ he said. ‘But when I saw you just now I simply had to come over and say how excited I am you’re here. You see, I’m a pianist myself. On a strictly amateur basis, I mean. And, well, I’ve always admired you terribly. When Father finally got word that you were coming, I was so thrilled.’
‘Father?’
‘I’m so sorry. I’m Stephan Hoffman. The manager’s son.’
‘Ah yes, I see. How do you do.’
‘You wouldn’t mind if I sat here for a minute, would you?’ The young man climbed up onto the stool next to mine. ‘You know, sir, Father’s just as thrilled, if not more so. Knowing Father he may not have told you just how much he’s thrilled. But believe me it means everything to him.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Yes, really, I’m hardly exaggerating. I remember the period when Father was still waiting for your reply. This peculiar silence would come over him whenever your name was mentioned. And then, when the pressure really built up, he’d start muttering under his breath about it all. “How much longer? How much longer until he replies? He’s going to turn us down. I can sense it.” I had to really work then, to keep his spirits up. Anyway, sir, you can imagine just what your being here now means to him. He’s such a perfectionist! When he organises an event like Thursday night, everything, everything, has to be just right. He goes over every detail in his head, over and over. Sometimes it does get a bit much, all this single-mindedness. But then I suppose if he didn’t have that side to him, he wouldn’t be Father and he wouldn’t achieve half of what he does.’
‘Indeed. He seems an admirable person.’
‘Actually, Mr Ryder,’ the young man said, ‘I did have something I wanted to ask you. It’s a request really. If it’s impossible, then please just say so. I won’t take it amiss.’
Stephan Hoffman paused as though to gather up his courage. I drank a little more coffee and gazed at the reflection of the two of us sitting side by side.
‘Well, this is also to do with Thursday night,’ he went on. ‘You see, Father’s asked me to play the piano at the event. I’ve practised and I’m ready and it’s not that I’m worried about it or anything …’ As he said this, just for a second his assured manner faltered and I caught a glimpse of an anxious adolescent. But almost immediately he had recovered with a nonchalant shrug. ‘It’s just that with Thursday night being so important, I don’t want to let him down. To come to the point, I was just wondering if you would have a few minutes to spare to listen to me run through my piece. I’ve decided to play Jean-Louis La Roche’s Dahlia. I’m just an amateur and you’d have to be very tolerant. But I thought I could just run through it and you could give me a few tips about how I might polish things up.’
I thought about this for a moment. ‘So,’ I said after a while, ‘you’re set to perform on Thursday night.’
‘Of course, it’s a very small contribution to the evening alongside, well’ – he gave a laugh – ‘the other things taking place. All the same I want my bit to be as good as possible.’
‘Yes, I can quite
understand. Well, I’d be pleased to do what I can for you.’
The young man’s face lit up. ‘Mr Ryder, I’m speechless! It’s the very thing I need …’
‘But there is a problem. As you can guess, my time here is very restricted. I’ll have to find a moment when I have a few minutes free.’
‘Of course. Whenever it’s convenient for you, Mr Ryder. My goodness, I’m so flattered. To be frank, I thought you’d turn me down flat.’
A bleeper began to sound somewhere within the young man’s clothing. Stephan started, then reached inside his jacket.
‘Awfully sorry,’ he said, ‘but that’s the urgent one. I should have been somewhere else long ago. But when I saw you sitting here, Mr Ryder, I couldn’t resist coming over. I hope we can continue this discussion very shortly. But for now, please excuse me.’
He got down off the stool, but then for a second seemed tempted to start another exchange. Then the bleeper went off again and he hurried away with an embarrassed smile.
I turned back to my reflection behind the bar counter and began to sip my coffee again. I could not, however, re-capture the mood of relaxed contemplation I had been enjoying before the young man’s arrival. Instead, I found myself troubled once more by a sense that much was expected of me here, and yet that things were at present on a far from satisfactory footing. In fact, there seemed nothing for it but to seek out Miss Stratmann and clear up certain points once and for all. I resolved to go and find her as soon as I came to the end of my current cup of coffee. There was no reason for this to be an awkward encounter, and it would be simple enough to explain what had happened at our last meeting. ‘Miss Stratmann,’ I might say, ‘I was very tired earlier and so when you asked about my schedule I misunderstood you. I thought you were asking me if I would have time to look at it straight away if you were to produce a copy then and there.’ Or else I could go on the offensive, even adopting a tone of reproach. ‘Miss Stratmann, I have to say I’m a little concerned and, yes, somewhat disappointed. Given the level of responsibility you and your fellow citizens seem content to place on my shoulders, I think I have a right to expect a certain standard of administrative back-up.’