the kitchen and drew it up to the table. Then he opened up his document case, moving aside theremnants of the cold food. On this island of Reilig he felt authority leaving him, with no prospect of being replaced by anything else. Authority was scarcely needed in a kingdom of potatoes and seabirds.
I’ll begin , he thought, by calling him by his first name , then found he had forgotten it. Temporarily of course – he was under stress.
He went on, ‘I respect your privacy, and I’m sure you understand that.’
Beehernz replied that he had never considered it at all. ‘You need two people to respect privacy, or, indeed, to make it necessary.’
Hopkins took a selection of documents out of his case. Doing this reassured him. The name was Konrad, of course.
‘This is our copy of the original contract. You have had your copy signed and returned to you. It didn’t at any time specify what your programme was to include. Now, although this wasn’t my main object in coming, I’ve been turning a few thoughts over in my mind, just to see how they strike you.’ Beehernz simply repeated the word ‘thoughts’ with an inappropriate laugh (it was the first time he had laughed). Hopkins continued, ‘I take it that you don’t, and never did, want to present the monumental Mahler. As I see it, you might begin with some of the early songs – let’s say the Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen , the 1884 version, with the piano accompaniment …’
Beehernz shook his head slightly with a particularlysweet smile, which, however, wasn’t apologetic, rather it dismissed the whole subject.
‘Who was that young woman who was here recently?’ he asked.
‘You mean Mary Lockett. She was here this morning. So, for that matter, was my assistant Fraser. You told me that you would like them both to leave.’
‘I assumed that if they came together, they would prefer to leave together.’
‘That was a total misunderstanding. They’re no more than acquaintances.’
‘A thousand pardons.’
He’s not of sound mind – reflected Hopkins. In that case the contract is void anyway. He said: ‘Am I to understand, then, that you simply don’t want to discuss the subject of Mahler?’
Beehernz smiled still. With a show of determination, Hopkins put another set of papers in front of him, and saw him dutifully bend over them.
After twenty minutes, after which he only appeared to be at paragraph two, Beehernz looked up and asked:
‘If I die, or even become seriously ill, before conducting this concert, who will be liable to pay this large sum?’ He had understood nothing.
‘No one would be liable for that,’ said Hopkins. It would be force majeure.’
Beehernz put both his hands down flat on the papers, as if to eliminate them from his sight. ‘Well, I will think about it.’
‘Couldn’t you decide now?’
‘Formerly I could have done so, but now I can only think of one thing at a time.’
Then what are you thinking about now, you old charlatan, you old crook.
‘By the way, don’t distress yourself about how you are going to get away from the island. McGregor will be back tomorrow. It will be his regular delivery day, when he brings me my few necessities from Iona.’
‘What time does he come?’
‘He will knock on the door.’
‘What time?’
‘Early, early, at first light. After that I do not expect him back for another two weeks.’
Hopkins spent the night in the armchair, which, after years of accommodating Beehernz, resolutely refused to fit anyone else. Since there were no bedclothes in the place beyond the plaid, he slept in his shirt and jacket. It was still dark when he suggested putting on the kettle. Beehernz, apparently spry and wakeful, told him that he had never possessed a kettle. ‘That may interest you. We never had one, even when I was a child in Leipzig.’ He sighed, and went to sleep again. But when the sky grew light, when the unshaven Hopkins had opened the door to McGregor, who said he
I’ll begin , he thought, by calling him by his first name , then found he had forgotten it. Temporarily of course – he was under stress.
He went on, ‘I respect your privacy, and I’m sure you understand that.’
Beehernz replied that he had never considered it at all. ‘You need two people to respect privacy, or, indeed, to make it necessary.’
Hopkins took a selection of documents out of his case. Doing this reassured him. The name was Konrad, of course.
‘This is our copy of the original contract. You have had your copy signed and returned to you. It didn’t at any time specify what your programme was to include. Now, although this wasn’t my main object in coming, I’ve been turning a few thoughts over in my mind, just to see how they strike you.’ Beehernz simply repeated the word ‘thoughts’ with an inappropriate laugh (it was the first time he had laughed). Hopkins continued, ‘I take it that you don’t, and never did, want to present the monumental Mahler. As I see it, you might begin with some of the early songs – let’s say the Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen , the 1884 version, with the piano accompaniment …’
Beehernz shook his head slightly with a particularlysweet smile, which, however, wasn’t apologetic, rather it dismissed the whole subject.
‘Who was that young woman who was here recently?’ he asked.
‘You mean Mary Lockett. She was here this morning. So, for that matter, was my assistant Fraser. You told me that you would like them both to leave.’
‘I assumed that if they came together, they would prefer to leave together.’
‘That was a total misunderstanding. They’re no more than acquaintances.’
‘A thousand pardons.’
He’s not of sound mind – reflected Hopkins. In that case the contract is void anyway. He said: ‘Am I to understand, then, that you simply don’t want to discuss the subject of Mahler?’
Beehernz smiled still. With a show of determination, Hopkins put another set of papers in front of him, and saw him dutifully bend over them.
After twenty minutes, after which he only appeared to be at paragraph two, Beehernz looked up and asked:
‘If I die, or even become seriously ill, before conducting this concert, who will be liable to pay this large sum?’ He had understood nothing.
‘No one would be liable for that,’ said Hopkins. It would be force majeure.’
Beehernz put both his hands down flat on the papers, as if to eliminate them from his sight. ‘Well, I will think about it.’
‘Couldn’t you decide now?’
‘Formerly I could have done so, but now I can only think of one thing at a time.’
Then what are you thinking about now, you old charlatan, you old crook.
‘By the way, don’t distress yourself about how you are going to get away from the island. McGregor will be back tomorrow. It will be his regular delivery day, when he brings me my few necessities from Iona.’
‘What time does he come?’
‘He will knock on the door.’
‘What time?’
‘Early, early, at first light. After that I do not expect him back for another two weeks.’
Hopkins spent the night in the armchair, which, after years of accommodating Beehernz, resolutely refused to fit anyone else. Since there were no bedclothes in the place beyond the plaid, he slept in his shirt and jacket. It was still dark when he suggested putting on the kettle. Beehernz, apparently spry and wakeful, told him that he had never possessed a kettle. ‘That may interest you. We never had one, even when I was a child in Leipzig.’ He sighed, and went to sleep again. But when the sky grew light, when the unshaven Hopkins had opened the door to McGregor, who said he
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