‘Yes, yes,’ I said quickly, ‘but look here. How are you feeling?’ I crouched down beside him.
‘I don’t suppose I’m so well. And in time I think I ought to go along to the hospital and have a few things checked out.’
He paused as another wave swept over him, and for a few seconds a quiet struggle ensued there on the mattress during which time the elderly porter closed his eyes. Then he opened them again and said:
‘I had to speak to you, sir. There was something I had to speak to you about.’
‘Please, let me assure you at once,’ I said, ‘that I remain as committed as ever to your cause. In fact, I’m very much looking forward to demonstrating to all the assembled tonight the unfairness of the treatment you and your colleagues have endured over the years. I fully intend to highlight the many misunderstandings …’
I stopped, realising he was making an effort to attract my attention.
‘I didn’t doubt for a minute, sir,’ he said after a pause, ‘you’d be as good as your word. I’m very grateful to you for standing up for us like this. But it was about something else I wished to speak to you.’ He paused again and another silent struggle commenced under the blanket.
‘Really,’ I said, ‘I wonder if it wouldn’t be wise to go straight away to the hospital …’
‘No, no. Please. Once I go to hospital, well, then it might all be too late. You see, it’s really time now I spoke to her. To Sophie, I mean. I really must speak to her. I know you’re very busy tonight, but you see, no one else knows. About the situation between me and Sophie, about our understanding. I know it’s a lot to ask, sir, but I wondered if you might go and explain things to her. There’s no one else who could do it.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, genuinely puzzled. ‘Explain what exactly?’
‘Explain to her, sir. Why our understanding … why it has to finish now. It won’t be easy to persuade her of it, after all these years. But if you could try and make her see why we have to try and end it now. I realise it’s a lot to ask of you, but then it’s a little while yet until you’re expected on the stage. And as I say, you’re the only one who knows …’
He trailed off as another wave of pain engulfed him. I could sense all his muscles bracing themselves under the blanket, but this time he continued to gaze at me, somehow keeping his eyes open even as his whole frame shook. When his body had slackened again, I said:
‘It’s true, there’s a little time yet until I’m required. Very well, I’ll go and see what I can do. I’ll try and make her understand. In any case, I’ll bring her here as quickly as possible. But let’s hope you’ll recover very soon and the present situation will prove to have been not as crucial as you feared …’
‘Sir, please. I’d be very grateful if you’d bring her here quickly. Meanwhile I’ll of course do all I can to hold out …’
‘Yes, yes, I’ll set off straight away. Please be patient, I’ll be as fast as I can.’
I rose to my feet and started for the door. I had almost reached it when a thought occurred to me and, turning, I made my way back to the figure on the floor.
‘Boris,’ I said to him, crouching down again. ‘What about Boris? Should I bring him here too?’
Gustav looked up at me, then took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he had not spoken for some moments, I said:
‘Perhaps it’s best he doesn’t see you in this … this present condition.’
I thought I saw the faintest of nods, but Gustav remained silent, his eyes still closed.
‘After all,’ I went on, ‘he has a certain picture of you. Perhaps you’ll want him to remember you that way.’
This time Gustav nodded more definitely.
‘I just thought I should ask you,’ I said, rising to my feet again. ‘Very well. I’ll bring just Sophie here. I won’t be long.’
I had reached the door again – I was already turning the handle – when he suddenly shouted behind me:
‘Mr Ryder!’
Not only had he called surprisingly loudly, his voice had contained such a peculiar intensity I could hardly believe it had emerged from Gustav. And yet when I looked back at him, his eyes were again closed and he seemed quite still. I hurried to him once more with some apprehension. But then Gustav opened his eyes and looked up at me.
‘You must bring Boris too,’ he said very quietly. ‘He’s not so small now. Let him see me like this. He has to learn about life. Face up to it.’
The eyes closed again and as his features tightened I thought he was suffering another fit of pain. But this time there was something different, and as I looked down in concern I realised that the old man was crying. I continued to watch for a moment, not sure what to do. Finally I touched his shoulder gently.
‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ I whispered.
When I came out of the dressing room, the other porters, who were all crowded near the doorway, turned to me with anxious looks. I pushed my way past them, saying firmly:
‘Please keep a careful watch on him, gentlemen. I have to carry out an urgent request and so you’ll have to excuse me for the moment.’
Someone started to ask a question, but I hurried on without stopping.
My plan was to find Hoffman and insist on being driven immediately to Sophie’s apartment. But then, as I continued briskly along the corridor, I realised I had no idea where to look for the hotel manager. Moreover, the corridor itself had taken on a very different aspect from the time I had come down it with the bearded porter. There were still a few catering trolleys being pushed about, but it had now become overwhelmingly dominated by persons I could only suppose were members of the visiting orchestra. Long rows of dressing rooms had appeared on either side of me, many with their doors open, and the musicians were standing about in twos and threes, chatting and laughing, sometimes calling across the corridor to one another. Occasionally I would pass a closed door from behind which came the sounds of some instrument, but on the whole their mood struck me as surprisingly frivolous. I was about to stop and ask one of them where I might find Hoffman when I suddenly caught sight of the hotel manager himself through the half-open door of a dressing room. I went up to it and pushed it a little further.
Hoffman was standing before a full-length mirror, studying himself carefully. He was in full evening dress and his face, I noticed, had been made up excessively so that some of the powder had fallen onto his shoulders and lapels. He was muttering something under his breath, never taking his gaze off his reflection. Then, as I continued to watch from the door, he performed a curious action. Bending forward suddenly at the waist, he brought his arm up very stiffly so that the elbow was jutting outwards, and thumped himself on the forehead with his fist – once, twice, three times. Throughout it all he did not take his eyes off the mirror or cease his whispering. Then he straightened and looked at himself silently. It occurred to me he was about to repeat the whole action again and so I quickly cleared my throat and said:
‘Mr Hoffman.’
He started and stared at me.
‘I’ve disturbed you,’ I said. ‘I do apologise.’
Hoffman looked around him in a bewildered manner, then seemed to regain his composure.
‘Mr Ryder,’ he said with a smile. ‘How are you feeling? I trust you’re finding everything here to your satisfaction.’
‘Mr Hoffman, something of great urgency has come up. What I need just now is a car to take me to my destination as quickly as possible. I wonder if this could be arranged without delay.’
‘A car, Mr Ryder? Now?’
‘It’s a matter of the utmost urgency. Of course I intend to return here very promptly, in plenty of time to fulfil my various commitments.’
‘Yes, yes, of course.’ Hoffman looked vaguely troubled. ‘A car should be no problem at all. Of course, Mr Ryder, in normal circumstances I could have provided you also with a driver, or else I would have gladly driven you myself. Unfortunately, just at this moment, my staff have their hands ve
ry full. And as for myself, I have so many things to see to, as well as a few modest lines to rehearse. Ha ha! As you know, I will be making a short speech myself tonight. And as trivial as it undoubtedly will seem alongside your own contribution, and indeed, that of our Mr Brodsky, who incidentally is a little late, I feel nevertheless I must prepare myself the best I can. Yes, yes, Mr Brodsky is a little late, it’s true, but there’s nothing to worry about. In fact, this is his dressing room, I was just checking it over. A perfectly good dressing room. I’m fully confident he’ll be here at any moment. As you know, Mr Ryder, I personally have been overseeing Mr Brodsky’s, er, recovery, and what a satisfying thing it has been to witness. Such motivation, such dignity! So much so that tonight, on this crucial night, I have utter confidence. Oh yes. Utter confidence! Indeed, a relapse at this stage, that would be unthinkable. A disaster for this whole city! And naturally a personal disaster for me. Of course this is the most trivial of concerns, but nevertheless, you’ll forgive me, let me say it, for myself, a relapse on this crucial night, at this point, ah yes, for me it would mark the end. On the very brink of triumph, it would be my finish. A humiliating finish! I could look no one in this town in the face again. I would have to hide. Ha! But what am I doing, talking of such improbable scenarios? I have utter confidence in Mr Brodsky. He will be here.’
‘Yes, I’m sure he will be, Mr Hoffman,’ I said. ‘In fact, I’m sure this whole occasion tonight will be a fine success …’
‘Yes, yes, I know it!’ he shouted impatiently. ‘I hardly need reassurance on such a point! I wouldn’t have even mentioned it at all, after all there’s plenty of time yet until things get started, I wouldn’t have mentioned it at all if it wasn’t for … for the occurrences earlier tonight.’
‘Occurrences?’
‘Yes, yes. Ah, you haven’t heard. How could you have done? There’s nothing much to it, sir. A certain sequence of events took place earlier this evening, and as a consequence, when I last left Mr Brodsky a few hours ago, he was sipping a small glass of whisky. No, no, sir! I can see what you’re thinking. No, no! He consulted me fully. And after some consideration I relented, coming to the view that in these very special circumstances, a small glass would do no harm. I judged it best, sir. Perhaps I was wrong, we shall see. Personally, I do not think so. Of course, if I did make the wrong decision, then this whole evening – pugh! – a catastrophe from start to finish! I will be forced to hide for the rest of my life. But the fact is, sir, things became very complicated this evening and I was obliged to make a decision. In any case, the upshot of it all is that I left Mr Brodsky at his home with his small glass of whisky. I am confident he will stop at that. My only thought now is that I should perhaps have done something about that cupboard. But then again, I’m sure I’m being over-cautious. After all, Mr Brodsky has made such progress, he can surely be trusted absolutely, absolutely.’ He had been fiddling with his bow tie and he now turned to the mirror to adjust it.
‘Mr Hoffman,’ I said, ‘what exactly has happened? If something has happened to Mr Brodsky, or if anything else has occurred that’s likely to alter the overall picture in any way, then surely I should be informed of it straight away. Surely you’ll agree with me, Mr Hoffman.’
The hotel manager gave a laugh. ‘Mr Ryder, you have entirely the wrong idea. There’s no need for you to worry in the least. Look here, am I worried? No. My entire reputation rests on this evening, and yet am I not calm and confident? I tell you, sir, there’s nothing whatsoever to concern yourself with.’
‘Mr Hoffman, what were you referring to just now when you mentioned a cupboard?’
‘Cupboard? Oh, merely the cupboard I discovered this evening at Mr Brodsky’s home. You may know, he has for many years lived in an old farmhouse a little way off the north highway. I had of course been there many times before, but things being a little untidy – no doubt Mr Brodsky has his own way of ordering things – I had never looked so carefully about his residence. That’s to say, it was only this evening I discovered that he did after all have a further supply of drink. He swore to me he had forgotten all about it. It was only when it came up this evening, when I said, well, in the circumstances, in these very special circumstances owing to the upsetting business with Miss Collins and so on, it was only in these circumstances, you see, I agreed with him that on balance, despite the very small risk, yes, it would be best for him to have just one small glass of whisky, just to steady himself. After all, sir, the man was very distressed over this business of Miss Collins. It was only then, when I offered to fetch a hip flask from my car, that Mr Brodsky remembered there was still one cupboard he had not cleared out. And so we went into his, er, kitchen, I suppose you would call it. Mr Brodsky has done very well over the last months repairing the place. He’s made steady progress, and now the elements hardly come in at all, though of course there aren’t yet any windows as such. In any case, he opened the cupboard, which was actually lying on its side, and inside, well, there were a dozen or so old bottles of spirits. Mostly whisky. Mr Brodsky was as surprised as I was. It did occur to me, I have to admit it, that I should do something. That I should take the bottles away with me, or perhaps pour them out onto the ground. But then, sir, you can see it, that would have been an insult. A great affront to the courage and determination Mr Brodsky has shown. And having already suffered one great blow to his ego this evening on account of Miss Collins …’
‘Excuse me, Mr Hoffman, but what is this you keep mentioning about Miss Collins?’
‘Ah, Miss Collins. Yes, well, that’s another matter. That was why I happened to be there, at Mr Brodsky’s farmhouse. You see, Mr Ryder, this evening I found myself the bearer of a most sad message. No one would have envied me such a task. The fact was, I had been growing uneasy for some time, even before their meeting at the zoo yesterday. I had been worried, that’s to say, on Miss Collins’s behalf. Who would have guessed things would move so fast with them, and after all these years? Yes, yes, I was worried. Miss Collins is a dear lady for whom I have the highest regard. I could not bear to see her life torn apart again at this stage. You see, Mr Ryder, Miss Collins is a woman of immense wisdom, this whole town will testify to it, but for all that – and if you lived here, I’m sure you would agree – there has always been something vulnerable about her. We have all come to respect her enormously, and many people have found her counsel invaluable, but then at the same time – how can I put it? – we have always felt protective towards her. As Mr Brodsky became … more himself over the months, many issues presented themselves that I for one had not properly considered before, and well, as I say, I became concerned. So you can imagine how it was, sir, when as I was driving you back this evening from your practice and you happened to mention so innocently that Miss Collins had agreed to a rendez-vous with Mr Brodsky, when you made it clear that Mr Brodsky was even at that moment waiting for her at St Peter’s Cemetery … My goodness, such fast moves! Our Mr Brodsky was clearly once something of a Valentino! Mr Ryder, I realised I had to do something. I could not allow Miss Collins’s life to be plunged back into misery, particularly as a result of something I had done, however indirectly. So earlier this evening, after you most graciously allowed me to drop you off in the street, I took the opportunity to go and visit Miss Collins in her apartment. She was of course surprised to see me. Surprised I should have come personally on this of all evenings. In other words my presence alone spoke volumes. She showed me in immediately and I asked her to excuse the abruptness of my visit, and the fact that I could not approach the difficult topic I wished to discuss with the care and tact I would normally wish to employ. She of course understood perfectly. “I realise, Mr Hoffman,” she said, “what great pressure you must be under this evening.” We sat down in her front parlour and I came straight to the point. I told her I had heard about their proposed rendez-vous. Miss Collins lowered her eyes at this, just like a young schoolgirl. Then she said very sheepishly: “Yes, Mr Hoffman. Even as you were coming to my door ju
st now, I was preparing myself. For well over an hour now, I’ve been trying out different outfits. Different ways to pin my hair. At my age, isn’t it amusing? Yes, Mr Hoffman, it’s quite true. He was here this morning and he persuaded me. I agreed to meet him.” She said some such thing, it was mumbled, not at all the way that elegant lady usually speaks. And so I proceeded. Of course I did so very gently. I tactfully pointed out the possible pitfalls. “It is all very well, Miss Collins.” I used such phrases. I trod as carefully as I could given the constraints on my time. Naturally, had it been another evening, had we had time to exchange pleasantries, to make small talk, I dare say I might have made a better job of it. Or perhaps it would have made little difference. The truth of the matter would always have been difficult for her. In any case, for all my going about things in the best way I could, when I eventually confronted her with the truth, when I said to her: “Miss Collins, all those old wounds will be re-opened. They will hurt, they will give you agony. It will break you down, Miss Collins. Within weeks, within days. How can you have forgotten? How can you lay yourself open to it all again? Everything you went through before, the humiliation, the great hurt, it will all come back and more acutely than ever. And after everything you’ve done over the years to build a new life for yourself!” When I put things to her in such terms – oh, I tell you, sir, it was not easy – I could see her crumbling inside, even as she tried to maintain her outward calm. I could see the memory of it all coming back to her, the old aches starting again. It was not easy, sir, I can tell you, but I felt it my duty to continue. Then finally, she said very quietly: “But Mr Hoffman. I’ve promised him. I’ve promised I’d meet him this evening. He’ll be depending on me. He always needs me before a big night like this.” To which I said: “Miss Collins, of course he’ll be disappointed. But I will personally do my utmost to explain it to him. In any case, he’ll already know in his heart of hearts, just as you do, that this rendez-vous is ill-advised. That the past is now best left well alone.” And she looked out of the window as if in a dream and said: “But he’ll be there already. He’ll be there waiting.” To which I said: “I will go myself, Miss Collins. Yes, I am very busy tonight, but this is something I regard as so important I can only entrust myself with the task. In fact I will go now, immediately, to the cemetery and inform him of the situation. You can rest assured, Miss Collins, that I will do everything I can to comfort him. I will encourage him to think ahead, to the immensely important challenge in front of him this evening.” I said some such thing to her, Mr Ryder. And though I must say she looked for the moment completely destroyed, she is a sensible lady and a part of her must have known I was right. Because she touched my arm quite kindly, saying: “Go to him. Straight away. Do what you can.” And so I got up to leave, but then realised I still had one last painful duty left to perform. “Oh, and Miss Collins,” I said to her. “As far as this evening’s event is concerned. Under the circumstances, I would have supposed it best you stayed at home.” She nodded and I could see she was close to tears. “After all,” I went on, “one has to be sensitive to his feelings. Under the circumstances your presence in the hall might have a certain influence on him at this most crucial juncture.” She nodded again and indicated that she understood fully. I excused myself then and showed myself out. And then, although there were so many other pressing things waiting to be done – the bacon, the bread deliveries – I saw that the overwhelming priority was to see Mr Brodsky safely over this last unexpected hurdle. So I drove to the cemetery. It was dark by the time I arrived and it took me a little while walking among the graves before I could locate him, sitting on a tomb, looking despondent. And when he saw me approaching he looked up tiredly and said to me: “You’ve come to tell me. I knew it. I knew it wasn’t to be.” This made my task easier, you might think, but I tell you, sir, it wasn’t easy at all. To be the bearer of such news. I nodded solemnly and said, yes, he was right, she was not coming. She had thought things through and had changed her mind. Furthermore she had decided not to come to the concert hall tonight. I saw no point in going into it any further than that. And he looked very distraught, so for a moment I looked away and pretended to inspect the tomb next to the one he was sitting on. “Ah, old Mr Kaltz,” I said to the trees, because I knew Mr Brodsky was weeping to himself quietly. “Ah, Mr Kaltz. How many years is it now since we buried him? It seems like yesterday, but I see it’s already fourteen years. How lonely he was before he died.” I was making some such conversation, so as to allow Mr Brodsky to weep. Then I sensed he had brought his tears under control and I turned to him and suggested he come back with me to the concert hall to get himself ready. But he said no, it was too early. He would become too tense hanging around the venue for so long. And I thought he might be right and suggested I drive him home. He agreed to this and so we made our way out of the cemetery and down to the car. And all through the drive, the whole time we were going up the north highway, he was just staring out of the window, saying nothing, the tears occasionally welling in his eyes. I realised then that we were not yet home and dry. That things were not quite so certain as they had seemed a few hours earlier. But I was still very confident, Mr Ryder, just as I am now. Then we arrived at his farmhouse. He has renovated it well, many of the rooms are now perfectly comfortable. We went into the main room and turned on the lamp and I looked about the place making light conversation. I offered to arrange for some people to come and look at the mildew problems on the walls. He didn’t seem to hear, but just went on sitting in his chair with a far-away look. Then he said he wanted a drink. A small drink. I told him this was impossible. Then he said, very calmly, that it wasn’t like the old way he wanted a drink. It wasn’t like that. That sort of drinking was behind him for good. But he had just suffered a terrible disappointment. His heart was breaking. He used those words. His heart was breaking, he said, but he knew how much rested on him this evening. He knew he had to do well. He wasn’t asking for a drink in the old way. Surely I could tell that? And I looked at him and I could see he was telling the truth. I saw a saddened, disappointed but responsible man. He had come to know himself better than most men can ever hope to do, and he was fully in control. And he was saying that, in this crisis, a small drink was what he needed. To get him over the shock of this emotional blow. To give him the steadiness he needed for the demands of the evening ahead. Mr Ryder, I heard him ask for drink many times in the early days and this was a different thing altogether. I could see that. I looked deep into his eyes and said: “Mr Brodsky, can I trust you? I have some whisky in a hip flask in the car. If I gave you just a small glass can I trust you that that will be the end of it? One small glass and no more?” To which he said, meeting my gaze full on: “It’s not like before. I swear to you.” And so I went out to the car, it was very dark and the trees were making a furious noise in the wind, and I got the flask from the car and brought it in, and he was no longer in his chair. That’s when I went through and found him in his kitchen. It’s really an outhouse connected to the main farmhouse that Mr Brodsky has been very skilfully converting. Yes, that’s when I found him opening the cupboard, the cupboard that was lying on its side. He’d forgotten all about it, he said when he realised I had come in. And there was the whisky. Bottles and bottles of it. He took out just one of the bottles, opened it and poured a small measure into a tumbler. Then, looking me in the eye, he poured the remainder of the bottle onto the floor. His kitchen floor, I should say, is largely earth, it’s not as though it made a terrible mess. Well, he poured it out onto the ground, then we came back through to the main room and he sat down in his chair and began to sip the whisky. I watched him very carefully and I could see he was drinking not in the way he used to. Even the fact that he could just sip like that … I knew I had made the right decision. I told him I would have to be returning. That I had already stayed away much too long. The bacon and the bread had to be supervised. I stood up and then we both knew without speaking what was on my mind. That’s to say, the cupboard.
And Mr Brodsky looked me straight in the eye and said: “It’s not like before.” That was enough for me. To insist on staying any longer, that would only have undermined him. It would have been an insult. In any case, as I say, when I looked into his face I felt perfectly confident. I left without another thought. And it is only in the last few minutes, sir, that even a flicker of a doubt has crossed my mind. But I know rationally it is simply the tension before a great event. He will be here shortly, I’m certain of it. And the whole evening, I feel very confident, will be a success, a great success …’