Chapter 10

London, July 15, 2005

Backstage, Royal Albert Hall

Jonathan wondered how his father had ensnared such a glorious creature as Alina. It didn’t seem fair. How could his father have persuaded her to be his lover? Did his father really love her, or was he using her to enhance his own image? Now that Jonathan had met her, he would confront his father and ask him that question.

Jonathan was hardly listening to the second half of the concert. He was wondering if Alina had really liked his performance as much as she had said, or if she was just being kind. Not a question he could ask her, but he did enjoy talking with her. She asked him questions about his concert tours and what it was like playing with his father as conductor - questions other people often asked, but they felt different coming from Alina.

The concert was over before they finished their conversation, and Gregory was down in the dressing room a few minutes later.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said to her. “I see you made it down here before I did. You must know a secret route.”

“I’m so sorry, darling. I got stuck on the phone with my sister, and before I knew it, the interval was over and I was still here. So I listened from here - not ideal, but the lovely thing is that I finally got to meet Jonathan. You never told me he was so delightful.”

“Didn’t I?” Gregory said. “It must have slipped my mind,” he said, nudging his son playfully. “Shall we have dinner and give you two a chance to get to know each other?”

Gregory and Jonathan had dozens of fans waiting to see them. They signed autographs, answered questions, listened to praise, gorged their egos. They would complain to each other how they would rather skip this routine, but secretly they loved the attention. It was what they lived for - playing music they loved, and hearing their adoring, worshipping fans tell them how wonderful they were.

They made their way to the car and on to the Savoy Grill, ordering a classic bottle of wine, and a large meal. They were seated at a corner table, just out of the central area, where they could be seen but not easily approached. Gregory liked to be seen; Alina, less so, and she chose the least conspicuous of the three seats.

“I know you have read about us in the papers,” Alina said, opening what seemed to be a serious topic for a late-night supper. “But I adore your father, and we love each other. My marriage has broken up, and I’ve never looked back. It’s as if we were always there, waiting for each other. I just want you to know that I truly care for him. He’s not just my lover. He’s the most important person in my life.”

Gregory took her hand in his, and kissed her on the lips. “I love you. I’ll never do anything to hurt you.”

With this exchange of undying love, Jonathan felt a pang of jealousy. He knew they both meant it. Jonathan could have any woman he wanted, but it wasn’t enough for him. An endless string of adoring young women wasn’t making him happy or fulfilled. He had never been “in love,” and seeing his father so happy, and with this magnificent woman, was hard for him. But he loved his father and visualized himself tossing aside his negative feelings and stomping on them.

“You look a little pale,” Gregory said to him. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’m just a bit tired, and I’ve had too much to drink.” They were halfway through the second bottle of wine now. “I think I’ll go home, if you don’t mind, and leave you two lovebirds to finish your meal together.” He gave each a formal hug, and ran out of the restaurant, the doorman hailing a taxi for him.

Alone in the cab, Jonathan was unsettled. He tried to rationalize his feelings away, telling himself that his father deserved this happiness--that he had waited a long time for it. He told himself he was being childish to begrudge his father the best relationship he had ever had. But another voice kept coming back, saying his father didn’t deserve it, that Jonathan should have been the one. Alina represented everything that he thought he wanted for himself - a woman who was brilliant and stood on her own, who wasn’t an adoring, childish fan, who wasn’t falling all over him, trying to get him into bed. “I know I’m being stupid,” Jonathan mumbled to himself. “I’ve just met her. I must be star-struck.” He closed his eyes. The taxi driver had heard him whispering. “Excuse me?” he asked. “Nothing,” Jonathan replied. “Just talking to myself for a moment. Sorry.”

Jonathan went home and poured himself a Scotch, knowing it was a bad idea on top of too much wine. He fell asleep quickly, and awoke at 10 a.m. with his head pounding. At first, he couldn’t remember what had happened, but after his first coffee of the morning, he recalled what had set him off the night before. He was leaving the next morning for a concert tour in Spain, and it was harder than ever to force himself to pick up the violin to practice. At about noon, Gregory called to see how he was doing.

“I’m sorry I had to leave,” Jonathan said. “I just wasn’t feeling well, and I’m still not. A terrible headache. I’m going to rest most of the day, and practice.”

“I hope it had nothing to do with meeting Alina,” he said. “I realize you are probably upset that I kept her a secret from you. But really, with her situation, I had to do it, for her sake. You do understand, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, father,” Jonathan said, his tone cool and distant. Gregory took it to be that way because of his headache, but was surprised when Jonathan said abruptly. “I’m going to rest, and I shall see you later in the day.” They had a date to discuss a sonata by Grieg that Jonathan would be playing on tour. Gregory and Jonathan often got together to go over music they would be performing. This was part of what made their performances so compelling. Some musicians of their stature had become lazy, just repeating interpretations that had worked for them previously. Gregory and Jonathan thought of music as a living, breathing art that could never remain static. Each live performance was different, and it varied with their audience, their moods, their feelings. They had animated discussions on the smallest of musical details, and looked forward to these encounters.

After their phone call, Gregory knew something was bothering Jonathan, but chose not to push it any further. He would leave it until later in the day. Alina now lived with him and had just walked into the room. It hadn’t been easy for her to get her possessions, as Jeffrey claimed that everything she owned was his, including the Steinway piano that he had bought her as a wedding present. They weren’t officially divorced, but she and Gregory knew it was going to be a stressful and messy divorce and Alina intended to hold it off as long as possible.

She felt good with Gregory. She had almost put her career on hold to be with him, but was about to start a film that would keep her away from him for at least a month. She couldn’t imagine what that would be like, especially since they had not been apart for a day since the turbulent night when her husband had left her.

“I’ll come and be with you,” Gregory had said. “I have two weeks off, and no reason I cannot make my way to Italy.”

“That’s good,” she said quietly. “She sat down and pressed herself against his side. “I will miss you. Do you think we might have a child?” she asked. “Maybe not right away, but once the divorce is final.”

This took him completely by surprise. He had never considered the possibility of another child, not with Jonathan in his early thirties. But he adored her and would do anything she wanted, although he questioned whether having a child would really be good for him.

“I hadn’t thought of it. But is this what you want? Would it make you happy?”

“Deliriously,” she said.

“Then let’s talk about it when you get back after this film,” he said.

***

It was late afternoon by the time Jonathan regained his rational self. He resolved that he would be supportive of his father’s relationship, and would try to be happy for him.

Three failed marriages must have taken their toll. Hasn’t my father suffered enough? the voice inside his head asked. Jonathan was glad that his father had finally told him more about his mother, and what had really happened to his first marriage. That explains a lot about my father, he thought, and why it has been so hard for him to sustain a relationship. Jonathan wondered if his childhood loss accounted for his own inability to form a close and lasting relationship with a woman.

Jonathan arrived in Hampstead with a smile on his face, and all the good will he could find in his heart. Unfortunately Alina threw him off guard by opening the door and giving him a hug. “Gregory is waiting for you in his study.” Jonathan walked quickly through the double doors and greeted his father warmly. He left the doors open. Alina had settled into an overstuffed armchair in the lounge, well in view of the study. A script was open on her lap, a pencil in her right hand, and a bottle of water in her left hand. She was only half-concentrating on her work, while watching Gregory and Jonathan, who already had his violin out and the score of Edvard Grieg’s Sonata Number 3 (Opus 45 in C minor) on the music stand. It seemed to Alina that he had plunged right into the middle of a thought, with no introduction.

“It’s the rhythm in this passage. I’ve always heard it this way...” He demonstrated. “But really, it works better if there’s more emphasis on the second beat. I would like your opinion on this, father. It changes the entire meaning of the phrase....” He played again.

Gregory was quiet for just a moment. “I see your point, Jonathan. But not every pianist will hear it that way. What will Edgar want to do?”

Jonathan had his back to the lounge, and was sitting on the piano bench for the moment. He had not noticed that Alina was in the doorway. Gregory looked up and smiled at her.

“Jonathan, that’s a sonata I know pretty well....from my deep dark past as a musician, she said lightly.”

“Right. I had forgotten,” Jonathan said.

Alina never let a day go by without playing the piano. “I was completely eavesdropping on your conversation. True confessions. If it would help, I would be happy to try out the points you are discussing. Do you have the piano part with you?” Jonathan was thankful he had thrown the music into his bag, which normally he would not have done.

“That’s a great idea,” Gregory said. “Just don’t spoil him too much. He’s got to play the recital in Spain with Edgar.”

Gregory was only half-joking. Although Alina no longer played in public, her playing was as beautiful as it had ever been. Alina took her place at the piano and practiced the passages in question for a few minutes before announcing that she was ready. She had understood exactly the way Jonathan was proposing playing, and felt it the same way. Jonathan looked at her and said, “That’s what I thought. It’s perfect, don’t you think?” he said, turning back to Gregory.

“Let’s hope Edgar agrees with you. If not, you’ll have to send for Alina.”

“Well that would create a stir. Everyone assumes I’ve quit!”

“Thank you, Alina. You wouldn’t like to try it from the beginning of the sonata, would you?” Jonathan asked.

“It has been a while since I’ve played this, but it was always a sonata I adored. Yes, I would love to, as long as you don’t hold the wrong notes against me.”

He laughed, put the violin under his chin and signaled the start of the piece. They played it through from beginning to end without stopping, except for a short pause between the movements. “We must have played this in a former life,” Jonathan said.

Gregory was surprised, and smiled at both of them. Jonathan was enthralled with Alina, and impressed with her musicianship. Once again, he felt a pang of jealousy. He wanted his father to leave him alone with Alina. He wanted to spend more time with her, to know more about her life. Why is she with my father? the voice asked him, again. As quickly as she had come into the room, she got up and moved toward the door. “I should get back to my script,” she said, “although this is more enjoyable. Thank you for this,” she said. “I’d almost forgotten how much I loved playing that sonata. If Edgar quits, do let me know,” she said, clearly joking, and touching his arm gently as she left the room. Jonathan realized he had felt more comfortable playing with Alina than with Edgar, who had been his musical partner for years. Playing with her was intoxicating. They had breathed every phrase together. She had predicted how the melody would bend, felt it along with him.

Jonathan stayed a little longer with his father and suddenly felt restless, as though he had to get out, to walk. He kept it from showing. “I’ve got to pack,” he said. “I’ll see you when I get back.” He embraced Gregory, then Alina, grabbed his violin case and left. He walked down Hampstead Square to Heath Street, where he hailed a taxi and went home. He opened the door feeling anxious and lonely. He thought about calling a woman he had dated a few times, or calling his close friend Ellen to talk, but believed that packing, organizing his music, and getting a decent night’s sleep would be a better plan.

He had begun to hate the complications of traveling by air - the disturbing and inept security guards who always insisted that he open his violin case, (as though it might be the perfect hiding place for the bomb), sitting in the private airline lounges where people recognized him, arriving late and tired.