Just a tease
The audience politely clapped, even though it was modern music. I could tell that the harpsichordist was just an amateur, but that didn’t stop me from appreciating the fine quality of the soprano duet. The young ladies clapped and smiled for themselves knowing they had done a good job, and the small audience applauded the show.
“They’re very good,” I told my partner.
“Yes, they were,” she said, herself a trained singer. I knew my feeling was correct.
We were in a small baroque room, the ceilings stretching up and ornamented with floral plaster casts painted blue like the sky. The rich brown hard wood folding chairs in the middle of the room, providing space for a crowd of no more than 20, of genteel company, faced the instruments at one side. My woman was by my side, I’d brought her out to celebrate her birthday. I spared no expense; I knew she would have an evening to remember. This private concert was just our second stop.
I had kidnapped her, so to speak, after her rehearsals were finished for the day. I carried a bag with me, but spoke no word of the evening to her, only that she should comply without question – to which she agreed – and that she need not come with anything. And I was from there polite company.
We first went on to the train. She asked many questions, and of course I did not answer them, though we were headed towards Amsterdam. The great city beckoned us from down the rails, and with the ringing of the conductor’s whistle we sped off across the country side. As it was still light we peered out the windows at the small dutch country towns that we passed. From one big city to one grand city, my dear became all the more excited through our trip.
