The Silver Swan (21 page)

Baum replied bitterly, “I’m afraid that’s true.”

Sixteen days later, in Amsterdam, Claude played his final concert of the tour. Once on his way, he had found it easy to block everything from his mind. He concentrated on the repertoire he had to play, the planes he had to catch, the conductors he had to please, and the laundry he washed each night in his hotel room’s sink.

Lying in bed in the Sofitel Grand, he ate breakfast and tried to make sense of his reviews in the Dutch morning paper, delivered on his breakfast tray. He looked at the clock; it was six. He wanted — suddenly and urgently — to hear Mariana’s voice. It would be midnight or one o’clock in New York. He could never remember time differences. He turned on his phone, found her number, and dialed. After four rings he got her answering machine. Perhaps she was asleep or possibly still at a postconcert party or, a disturbing thought, out with someone else.

“Mariana,” he told the machine, “it’s Claude. I’ve just finished my tour. I’m calling from Amsterdam. Where are you and how can I reach you?” After a pause, he heard her pick up the telephone.

“I’ve missed you terribly,” he said into the silence. “I’m sorry I haven’t called.”

“Claude, oh Claude, at last,” she whispered. “I’ve been frantic. Why haven’t you been in touch?”

“I’m sorry. I’d hoped you wouldn’t worry. You know touring — the way one loses track of days, weeks. The way one can think of nothing but the next flight, the next concert.” He paused, realizing he would have to say more to overcome his inattention. “I thought about you so often, my darling, much to the detriment of my playing, I’m afraid.”

“Did you get my messages?”

“Only today,” he lied. “When I checked my mobile.”

She was silent for a long moment. “I did worry. Of course I worried. I was very sad not to hear your voice.” She paused again. “Also, I needed to speak with you about the Tanglewood date. When you didn’t answer my calls, I thought perhaps I could contact you through your mother. I telephoned her.”

Claude froze. “Ah, did you reach her?”

“Yes. We had a lovely chat, very warm and friendly. But I decided not to leave a message for you. I made the Tanglewood decisions myself.”

He stared out the window at the canals of the city, feeling anxious.

“And what were those decisions?”

She ignored his question. “Tell me when I’ll see you, Claude.”

He tried to think clearly, quickly, sensing something distrustful in her tone. “I’ve been thinking. If Baum & Fernand will allow me to, I’ll come to collect the cello. I’ve decided I’d like to play the Swan just as it is for a year and then bring
it back for restoration. I really want to know the cello as Alexander knew it, to play the instrument he played, before Fernand takes it apart. And if Fernand will agree,” he paused, “I’ll see you very soon. I’m not sure how much longer I can wait to get my hands on you again.”

“I spoke with Baum yesterday. Pierre hasn’t been feeling well. I don’t think he’s started work on the cello yet.”

“I’m so sorry to hear about Pierre. I hope he won’t refuse me.”

“How can he, Claude? You
are
the owner.”

“I’ll call today.”

Outside, the fog was lifting. He had an early flight scheduled out of Schiphol. He hoped planes would be flying by the time he reached the airport.

“Darling,” she said into the silence, “I have a wonderful idea. I’ve wanted for the longest time to return to the Pyrenees, to Prades. Alexander had such fond memories of his years there with Casals, and I haven’t been there since I was young. Wouldn’t it be marvelous to make a pilgrimage there together?”

Thinking of Sophie and his promise to come home, he answered hesitantly, “I think I could arrange that, for a few days at least. But first I have to return to Lugano and attend to some business there.” He paused. “If we meet in Europe, how will I retrieve the Swan, assuming that Pierre agrees to let me have it?”

Mariana laughed. “I’ve thought of everything. I could bring it to you. I’ll fly to Barcelona with the cello. If you meet me at the airport there, we can rent a car and drive together to Prades. It would be a heavenly week.”

“I won’t have a whole week, Mariana, but even a few days would be special.” He lay back on the pillows. “My God, I’ve longed for you.”

She whispered, “Tell me how much. Tell me how you want me. Tell me what you’ll do to me on our first night together … and what you want me to do to you.”

“Are we having phone sex?” he asked.

“Come on, Claude,” she commanded, “don’t be such a proper Swiss. Tell me.”

From his apartment, Claude called the offices of Baum & Fernand. Twenty minutes later, Baum returned his call. The dealer was cordial and willing, in Fernand’s absence, to agree to Claude’s request.

“There’s no problem,” he declared. “Especially because Fernand himself is not well enough to begin work. His projects are delayed. We will prepare the Swan for you in a new traveling case. Of course when it leaves the shop, you must cover the insurance. Play it for a while, but then, when Fernand is ready, you must bring it back for restoration — it was Maestro Feldmann’s wish. When will you come to take it?”

“I believe Mariana Feldmann is planning a trip to Europe,” Claude answered. “I thought she might bring it to me. We’ve discussed this, she and I.”

Baum was slow to answer. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather come yourself?”

“I can’t see why I should, when she has offered to meet me and deliver the Swan.”

“Very well, if you’re certain. But there will be papers to sign, M. Roselle, that absolve us of responsibility until you return it to us, and added insurance expenses.”

“Of course,” Claude answered. “Just fax them to me.”

Claude gave Baum his address, his telephone and fax
numbers and, finally, the name of his bank, Union des Banques Suisses.

“Where will you meet Ms. Feldmann?” Baum asked.

“In Barcelona, in ten days.”

“Enjoy the cello,” said Baum, “and enjoy your visit with the maestro’s daughter.”

Before he left for Barcelona, he would have to talk with Sophie, difficult as this encounter would be. Sophie planned to keep the child. He thought it might, in any case, be too late for her to change her mind. She actually
wanted
his child. This made him feel even worse.

He called Sophie’s office. “Oh, M. Roselle,” her secretary answered, “Ms. Von Auer is not yet back. She was delayed in Vienna at a conference. She won’t be back for a week more. She asked me to tell you how to reach her.”

Claude said it wouldn’t be necessary. He would speak with her in person when she returned. Then he called Mariana and said, “Come right now, Mariana. I have some unexpected free time. Meet me in Barcelona as soon as you can get a flight. Bring the Swan. I’ve arranged everything with Baum. I have five days.”

“I’ll use Expedia or one of those other sites, but Claude, the tickets will be ridiculously expensive, if I can even get them. First class, last minute.”

“I don’t care. I’ll pay anything they ask.”

When he met Mariana at the Barcelona airport, she was empty-handed. Hurrying toward him, her hair a tumble of
long dark curls, a green leather bag slung on her shoulder, she carried no cello case. As they kissed, he could scarcely contain his anxiety. Where was the Swan and why was it not with her?

Mariana was freshly groomed and radiant. They embraced and he smelled her familiar lilac scent. People moved past them, dragging suitcases, pushing infants in strollers, parting in streams around them. “Have you
just
gotten off the plane?” he asked. “You look as if you’ve spent the morning at a spa.”

She smiled at him. “I’m so glad you noticed the effort I’ve made. I landed late last night and went to the Ritz.”

His anxiety increased. Had she left the cello in her hotel room? “Well, you certainly look irresistible.”

They kissed again. “You’re not
supposed
to resist me.”

Pulling his leather roller behind him, he drew her toward the exit. “I assume you’ve left the Swan at your hotel. Shall I get us a taxi?”

“No need, I’ve rented a car — a sweet little convertible. It’s in the parking garage.” Now
she
led
him
by the hand as they moved into the warm August sun.

“How on earth will we get the Swan and all our bags into a small convertible?”

“We won’t, Claude. I’ve stowed the cello safely at a branch of your UBS bank here in the city. This was Baum’s suggestion — we’re not staying in very secure hotels and we don’t want to carry it everywhere we go. Besides, if I’ve only a few days with you, I don’t want any competition from a cello. I want your undivided attention — all of it, every last caress. You’ll play the Swan for the rest of your life — for the moment, you’re all mine.”

Hoping to hide his disappointment, Claude squeezed her hand. “And you’re absolutely sure it’s safe?”

“Of course,” she answered, with a suggestion of edge in her voice. “But feel free to call the bank if you’re worried. You can call to check on your lovely Swan every hour, if you’d like.” She handed him a business card from his bank’s Barcelona branch, with the name of the branch vice president and a telephone number. “Go ahead.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he answered, trying to be playful. “
You’re
a lovely enough swan for me. Let’s go quickly. I feel the need to groom your feathers. Are we going to the Ritz?”

“No, I’ve checked out.”

They entered the garage and climbed a dank flight of stairs. She led him to the car, a black Fiat 500c, low to the ground. Planes roared overhead. They could no longer hear each other, and they ceased talking. Putting his bag into the trunk with hers, he climbed into the driver’s seat beside her. She looked at him so seductively he wished they were indeed going back to the Ritz, not starting the drive to Prades. On the highway, he asked, “Was it a nuisance — bringing the cello with you?” He couldn’t keep himself from returning to the subject.

“Not at all. You forget, I’m quite used to carrying a cello. Actually, I was afraid to bring the Swan to my apartment for even one night. There’ve been robberies from time to time in my building. Instead, I took a taxi to Baum & Fernand on my way to the airport, and Hanns brought the Strad down to the cab. It’s in a beautiful new case, safely locked. I have the key. I’ll give it to you after our first night together — if you don’t disappoint me.”