Rags to Riches. Nancy Carson

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       Chapter 2

      That Sunday, Stephen arrived promptly at seven and parked his Austin behind Will’s maroon motor car, a Swallow SSI. He walked up the path and knocked at the door.

      Will Parish invited him in. ‘I imagine she’ll be ready in a minute or two, Stephen. Come and wait in the sitting room.’

      ‘Hello, Stephen,’ Henzey greeted affably, fastening a napkin on the baby who was lying on the settee next to where she was sitting. ‘Sorry if it pongs a bit in here. I’ve just had to change him.’

      Stephen spotted a soiled napkin on the floor near Henzey’s feet and tried not to breathe in too deeply lest it offend him. ‘One of the joys of having children,’ he commented.

      ‘One of the drawbacks. Oh, he’s as good as gold…aren’t you, my little cherub?’ she cooed, slipping the baby’s waterproof pants over his napkin. She lifted him, holding him against her bosom. ‘There…that’s better, isn’t it? Now you feel all nice and comfy again.’

      ‘Have you decided on a name for him yet?’ Stephen asked conversationally.

      Henzey looked at Will for permission to reveal it. He nodded his assent with a smile.

      ‘Aldo,’ Henzey said.

      ‘Aldo?’ Stephen queried, uncertain as to how he should react.

      ‘Well…Aldo Benjamin, really. But we shall call him Aldo.’

      Maxine appeared at the sitting room door. She wore a simple dark green dress with a flared skirt, belted at the waist, and carried a black leather handbag that matched her shoes.

      ‘So, now you know the baby’s name, Stephen.’

      ‘Yes. It’s, er…’

      ‘Awful?’ Maxine suggested wryly. ‘Is that the word you’re looking for?’

      ‘It’s lovely,’ Henzey said, clutching Aldo to her. ‘Isn’t it my little pet? It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful little boy.’

      ‘It’s a frightful name,’ Maxine countered with a gleam in her eye, and Will chuckled again at the minor controversy this choice of name was causing. She carefully took the child and cradled him in her own arms lovingly while Henzey took the soiled napkin to the scullery. ‘Whatever possessed them, eh?’ she said in baby talk. ‘Fancy calling a lovely little boy like you Aldo, you poor thing. Fancy calling you Aldo when they could have called you something decent, like Robert, or Peter…or David…or even Stephen.’

      ‘Oh, Even Stephen’s a good one,’ Will mocked good-naturedly. ‘Why don’t we call him Even Stephen?’

      ‘Because we’ve already got one Even Stephen,’ Maxine answered flippantly.

      Stephen felt flattered, hopeful even, that by implication he was one of the family…almost.

      Once in the car and on their way, Stephen said: ‘Are they serious about calling the poor child Aldo?’

      ‘I know. Isn’t it just too awful?’

      ‘How are you settling in, Maxine? D’you think you’ll be happy? You know you’re more than welcome back at —’

      ‘It’s nice,’ she interrupted. ‘They haven’t even noticed I’m there yet with the baby to occupy them, and that suits me…Anyway, I’m really looking forward to the concert, aren’t you? It seems ages since I’ve been to a CBO concert.’

      ‘You went to a couple last year. I took you.’

      ‘But, like I say, it seems ages ago. I should have gone to more.’

      ‘Seems like you will in future, doesn’t it?’ He turned to look at her as he changed up a gear. ‘I wonder what they’re playing tonight?’

      ‘Mozart’s ‘Prague’ for one, somebody told me. Sibelius’s Second and…oh, I can’t think of the other.’

      In no time they were pulling up into a space outside the Italian Renaissance style Council House in Colmore Row. Birmingham Town Hall and its colossal columns faced them, predominating like the Roman Temple of Castor and Pollux as it overlooked the weathered statue of Queen Victoria and New Street.

      Stephen got out of the Austin and, to Maxine’s annoyance, immediately rushed round to the other side to open the door for her. Why did he persist in doing that? She could just as easily open the door herself and save time, too. It seemed he was putting her on a pedestal when she did not want to be on a pedestal. She did not deserve it. She had nothing to give in return.

      They found their seats in the auditorium and, as the orchestra tuned up, Maxine grew more excited at the prospect of playing with these musicians. She wanted tonight’s concert to be a triumph.

      She turned to Stephen. ‘I’m getting quite nervous, you know.’

      ‘But you’re not even playing.’

      ‘I’ve got the jitters for the orchestra. I do hope it goes well.’ Just then, the audience began to applaud and Maxine looked up. ‘Look, that’s Leslie Heward, the conductor,’ she exclaimed in an excited whisper. ‘The man who auditioned me.’

      The audience fell quiet and Leslie Heward raised his baton. Suddenly the place was charged with the first explosive chord of Mozart’s Symphony number 38 in D major – the ‘Prague’ Symphony.

      No sound is as rich, as full, or as emotive СКАЧАТЬ