Conversations 03

I got up and drew her to her feet. "Up we go."

We rose to join the people milling about on the stage. Rosa disappeared to talk to one of the oboists, who gave her something after a short conference. Umberto was looking down his nose at me and displeased that my wife had ignored him.

"Rosa, come my dear. We need to attend the press about your performance and explain how any shortcomings were due to silly jokes. Then there is the party with the patrons to get to. I've arranged a car for us..."

I finally cut him off. "Sorry, Umberto old fruit, but my wife won't be attending your party. She has a different party to go to."

Rosa took my hand and looked at me in surprise. "We do?"

"Oh yes, a little intimate party for you and I on the hotel roof, where I plan to fuck you for hours and give your first baby a good chance of conception."

Umberto actually took Rosa's arm and tried to pull her to him. "Come my dear, let's leave this silliness behind. You have a career to think of and..."

I realised what Rosa had been given by the oboist when she pointed a knife at the hand on his arm and prodded it with the point until he removed it with alacrity. "My babies are not silliness, you stupid fifth rater. Yes, I said fifth. Paulo, Greg, Boris, Mary Stevens - all of them are better. I have two careers - as a wife and a musician, and one of those has been sadly neglected. I need to make up for it. So I will have to deny you your chance to fuck me at tonight's party, despite all your efforts."

I didn't think she'd noticed that the press had got tired of waiting in the wings and had joined us on stage. Neither had Umberto. I had, and gave myself a little mental hug.

"That's nonsense, I was being a mentor, that's all."

She drew herself up to her full five foot three. "You actually tried to teach me... Me! Rosa Evans! To play my own cello. If that wasn't insulting enough, you then made a clumsy attempt to grab my tits and called it accidental. And tonight's party? Who arranged for my husband to not receive a ticket?"

The stage hands were all grinning at a red-faced woman, so I drew her into the conversation.

"Is that how it was supposed to go?" I asked her. "I get left outside, unable to get in and protect my wife against the predations of this wannabe pervert? Until it's all too late and my marriage is shattered? Was that the plan? You were to take the blame for an administrative oversight? Why would you set yourself up to be fired?"

Her face got redder and redder, and then she burst into tears. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to do it, but he's my boss."

She scuttled away, shoulders hunched.

"I should stick this in your eye," Rosa shouted at Umberto. The knife was actually a tiny penknife that was sometimes used to shape an errant oboe reed so I wasn't too concerned. She turned to the television camera. So she had noticed them.

She brandished the tiny pig-sticker. "And any other man who tries to break up my marriage, will get the same treatment. Only the knife will be a lot bigger and my anger a lot greater!"

Wow.

She had put it out to the world alright. So maybe every guy in the world would be a little more wary about wanting to fuck her now. I knew that little clip was going to be on the news and social media faster than lightning. Okay, as quick as lightning. I know I'm a musician but I am actually aware of physics. Think of Brian May. Music and science are not mutually exclusive.

"Umberto," I called. "I'm sorry you didn't enjoy tonight's performance of my concerto. Because I have the right to appoint the conductor for all my music. I make sure it's in every contract for the performance. I can't have just any jerk fucking it up. I have to make sure it's the best jerk for the piece. And you don't get to conduct anything with my music in it from here on. Enjoy!"

I was enjoying this little bust up until I spotted Christopher Aldren making his way onto the stage. Nobody stopped him. As the leading music critic of the day, his was a powerful voice, and although I had basically forced Rosa to put her career on hold, it was her career after all.

"Who thought of having Rosa disappear into the depths?"

Umberto looked delighted. "That stupidity was all his idea. Please do not taint me with his juvenile pranks."

"Yes, that was me," I confessed.

"Wonderful idea," he said, shaking my hand. "The tension within the piece went through the roof. I know the whole audience was on the edge of their seats wondering how Rosa would manage, but I think her playing tonight was actually her best ever. A masterclass in conveying emotion through music. The little counterpointing of her descending into hell and fighting her way back, only to be sent down again was sublime."

I was glad he liked it. I wasn't going to say how Rosa had become that emotional in her playing. He put his arm around my shoulders and I smiled at Rosa. Christopher was very gay. She smiled back.

"Thank you Christopher," she said, and took his arm. "I think it is perhaps my husband's finest piece. Did you know he composed the last movement especially for me? Not just with me in mind, but especially for me. I am a very lucky woman. It is all about the labours of love."

They moved off as I stared at her butt moving gently within that wonderful, evil dress. I wasn't the only one looking.

The thing was, just how the hell did she know that? Who was watching whom here?