Currently he was going out with Dolores, the redheaded fount of all knowledge from his local record shop. She didn’t play (or wouldn’t admit to it), but knew more than he did about all the great artists and ensembles. And while she had a quirky sense of humour that made her approachable, she was most unlikely to be behind what was currently happening to him.
Tonight they were drinking the house Merlot at the Coach and Horses on Kew Green and she looked at him over her rimless specs and said, ‘Something bugging you?’
‘Why?’
‘You’re miles away.’
He decided to tell all.
Dolores listened with increasing interest.
‘The thing is,’ Mel summed up, ‘I hate uncertainty. These people could be taking me for a ride, getting my hopes up about a well-paid job in a high-class quartet. If it’s a hoax, I need to know. But it’s just possible it’s on the level and I can’t afford to let a good opportunity pass by.’
‘How long is it since you met the cellist lady?’
‘Couple of weeks.’
‘Didn’t she give any clue what happens next?’
‘She was upbeat. Said something about seeing more of me soon.’
‘Suggestive.’
‘Just about everything she said was, but she can get away with it. She’s big, wall-to-wall. Have you heard of anyone like that?’
‘Playing cello in a string quartet? I can’t say I have.’
‘But you know all the top ensemble groups.’
‘On CD, yes. I haven’t watched them all perform. Sometimes they’re pictured on the cover, but not always. You said her name is Cat. Would that be short for Catherine?’
‘She didn’t say. Katrina? Kathleen? It may be a nickname.’
‘I’m trying to think of cellists,’ Dolores said.
He sipped the wine and waited.
She took a different tack. ‘You’ve met two of them. Logic suggests that the third will want to vet you soon.’
He nodded. ‘They’ve got me on a piece of string.’
‘Not necessarily. I expect they’re as nervous as you are. It’s a massive decision. Get someone who isn’t compatible and he could destroy the group in a very short time. Did they say what happened to their violist?’
‘That’s another mystery. I asked Ivan straight out if he died or is being given the push. He more or less told me to back off. He’s a hard man, is Ivan. There’s some East European in his manner as well as his name – if that is his name.’
‘Yet he was the first to approach you, and he told you he’d heard you play, so he must be on your side.’
‘You’re talking as if this is going to happen.’
‘I think it will,’ she said.
‘But you can’t identify the quartet. They’ve got to be famous if they’re earning the money Ivan spoke about.’
‘I’m not infallible, Mel. Yes, I may have heard them. I may even recognise their playing, but that doesn’t mean I’d know them if they walked in here this minute and bought us a drink.’
‘And do the personnel change much?’
‘In some groups, yes. Others stay together forever. The same four guys played in the Amadeus for forty years and the Guarneri weren’t far behind. Their cellist retired, but the others carried on. Four people coming together to play music can’t predict what life will throw at them. Someone gets ill or dies and the others have to decide whether to call it a day or look for a replacement.’
‘And is it blindingly obvious when someone new comes in?’
‘To me? I can usually hear the difference in a recording of the same piece. To the players I’m sure there are major adjustments.’
‘And some resentment, no doubt,’ he said, confiding yet another worry that had been gnawing away at his confidence. ‘I don’t particularly relish being the new boy. Comparisons are going to be made. I wouldn’t wish to ape the playing of the previous incumbent just to make the process easy for the others. I doubt if it’s possible, anyway.’
‘They’ll understand,’ Dolores said. ‘Everything I’ve heard about string quartets and the way they work suggests that there’s debate going on all the time in rehearsal. And sometimes in performance. I don’t need to tell you this. You’ve played in ensembles.’
‘Filling in isn’t the same as taking over for someone who has left,’ Mel said. ‘The two people I’ve met are formidable characters in their different ways. They’re not going to give me an easy ride.’
‘Would you want one?’
‘An easy ride?’ He smiled. ‘Of course not.’