Schennen, Annchen. That young manâs poison here in Lissenberg and donât you forget it.â
âPoison? But why? Whatâs the matter with him?â
âEverything.â He took her arm and led her up the steps. âWhere he is, thereâs trouble. And no wonder. I canât think why Prince Rudolf let him come back.â
âBack?â
âFrom abroad. I wish I knew whoâd sent for him. Full of crazy ideas. Stirring things up. Well, you heard him about trades unions.â
âI happened to agree with him.â Anne paused at the top of the steps and looked back to see Michael swiftly reversing the car down hill to leave her bag at the hostel. âAnd I never thanked him properly either; you dragged me away so quick. Whatâs got into you, Carl?â
âIâm mad with worry.â He turned to face her, his arm still firm on hers so that he spoke almost uncomfortably close. âThis opera is my great chance, and right now it looks headed for disaster. Everythingâs gone wrongâeverything. Alixâs throat. Lotte Moser. And now Falinieriâs been in some accident and turned up in a filthy mood. It was a miracle I got away to meet your bus. We must go
in
, Anne. Weâve wasted too much time already sight-seeing with that damned dropout. Falinieri was going straight up to the rehearsal room. Said he wanted to know the worst. Andââ here he came to the heart of the matterââsaid heâd never heard of you. Well, not surprising. Youâve keptso quiet. If only Alix could sing today, but sheâs got this throat ⦠If he hears Lotte first, Iâm afraid heâs capable of going back to Italy, the mood heâs in, and then weâre in real trouble. I canât do it all, Anne; I absolutely canât.â
âOf course not. It would be crazy to try. But hadnât we better go in, if youâre so worried?â
âYes. No. Do you know any of the music?â
âHow should I?â
âNo. Iâm stupid with worry. But you always did sight-read like an angel.â He looked her up and down, and she was very much aware of her shabby appearance. âTell you what.â He let go of her arm and she felt an odd stab of relief. âIâve got a better idea. Weâll
let
him hear Lotte first. Slip in the side way, sit at the backâgive you time to do something about your hair, at leastâand listen to Lotte. While he does.â He pushed open swing doors and led her across a lobby and down a corridor. âShh.â Finger on lip, he opened another door and a great burst of disastrous sound hit her. A full, rough soprano was making desperate attempts to get her voice down the necessary register to the contralto part.
The rehearsal room, dimly lit, was a miniature theatre with an almost full-sized stage but a truncated auditorium where a few people were scattered, half visible on the banked seats. âWe worked like hell on the acoustics,â Carl whispered as they slipped into two seats at the back.
âMuch good theyâre doing her!â Onstage, a luxurious golden-haired Valkyrie in a low cut model dress was baying incomprehensibly in something between German and, Anne thought, the local dialect.
â
No, Fräulein Moser. No, and no, and no!
â Signor Falinieri, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, was almost incoherent with rage. â
E impossible
â¦â He looked furiously round and changed languages. âItâs nuts; itâs crazy; itâs an insult; I wonât do it. Whereâs this Alix? And for Christâs sake whereâs Herr Meyer?â
âHere.â Carl stood up and moved forward to climb onto the stage. âAnd Iâve brought the new understudy.â
âOh you have?â Lotte turned on him. âYour precious âunknown.â I may not have Italian trills and shakes to please thesignor here, but what of my friends
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