An extract from DIVA, the sequel to my soon-to be published ‘The Ragazzo’

Scene 4

Frau Weinhoffer is sitting posed elegantly on the chaise longue in the smart drawing room of the apartment of the Altmann family. On the papier-mache gilded table before her, a cold cup of tea and a plate of perfectly cut breadlets, draped with the corpses of anchovies. Frau Altmann sits across the room from her, reading a newspaper.

She looks up. ‘It seems your daughter is something of a success, Frau Weinhoffer. This is an excellent review’

NOTE for readers: Fr Weinhoffer, before the onset of Alzheimer’s was a singing teacher. Her eroding mind still retains her ability to play the piano

‘Yes, thank you darling.’

 ‘Shall I read it to you?’

‘My darling. I looooove you.’

‘”…the production values are excellent as one does expect from this Director – ‘ Of course! That’s my son you know. “…performances…” ah here it is “…fraulein Weinhoffer’s voice is robust and powerful in the role of Venus, which is certainly appropriate – although I usually prefer a mezzo. She is a consummate actress too, making the role shine and showing great depths of character as well as sometimes thrilling vocal range. I often had the impression she was holding back in order to save us from too much ecstasy…” Amazing! Too much ecstasy! You must be proud.’

Fr Weinhoffer picks up a brottchen and tries to outstare the dead pilchard. She laughs, delightedly

‘Have you eaten something?’ Fr Altmann asks. ‘Shall I get you some more brottchen?’ Frankly Frau Altmann has begun to tire of her guest. The elderly Mutti, as she was called now by almost the entire household, was generally poor company who had to be told what to say, what to do, and when to do it.

Her only enjoyment, it seems, was to sit at the piano playing or singing or God forbid, both. While her performances of her eroding repertoire were always almost efficient, her singing voice had become at least a semitone out of tune –which wouldn’t have been quite as horrible if the variation was consistently only a half tone out. Unfortunately her singing would start off vaguely accurate at the beginning of the song and then it would be off on a magical journey entirely unrelated to the intentions of the composer.

Any attempt by the woman to seat herself at the piano was therefore a source of utter dread. So when she says, ‘I will play’ and stands, heads for the Piano, her hostess’ heart sinks and her ears attempt to retreat inside her skull.

‘Du Liebe Gott!’ Frau Altmann mutters.

ENTER Georg Altmann. ‘Mother, mother!’ he shouts, waving a letter he has just finished reading. His whole body, the letter itself is quivering with his barely suppressed excitement. ‘Look! Look!’

‘Calm please Georgchen’, she says reprovingly. Ever since her son had leapt out of her womb, she had been trying to hold his enthusiasm down to bubbling, rather than explosive. ‘You read it to me. First, breeeeeathe….’

Georg takes a slow, deep breath. ‘Yes mummy,’ he says, using the English word. Then, concentrating, ‘”Dear Herr Altmann, I had the pleasure to see your excellent Tannhauser last night and may I say I was extremely impressed, especially with some of the singers particularly. As a major patron of the Munich Opera…” – patron! Mummski! – ‘

‘Very nice dear,’ Fr Altmann says.

‘Nice! It is magnificent!’ Georg allows himself to let slip. ‘Munich! Wagner himself – Wait. Let me read you the rest – ‘

Frau Weinhoffer has begun to play. It is the intro to ‘Forelle’ again, repeated and repeated. She is waiting for an invisible singer to begin the verse.

‘”…..I shall be insisting that your Company is invited to give a performance there in the very near future. You will be receiving confirmation of this invitation from the Opera within a very few days….”’

The piano music is getting louder and louder.

‘I said – he says –“…within a very few days”! It means he can actually organise – for heaven’s sake!’ he is trying to ignore the mad jangles of the piano but it trickles all over them.

‘Calm, dear. Read me the rest of it. And don’t swear.’

‘I will try!’ He is almost shouting. ‘Then he says I must telephone him to discuss arrangements. They will pay for everything. Perhaps we can get a season – though they have their own Company – ‘

‘I’m sure you will dear.’

Frau Weinhoffer is now playing the same passage, repeated and repeated, as loudly as she can , making conversation almost impossible.

‘Who is it from?’

‘What?’

‘Who sent the letter?’

‘What?’

‘Give me that!’ Fr Atmann is losing her temper. Stands, snatches the letter. ‘My God! It’s Von Eisenhoff!’

ENTER Guido as Annaliese Weinhoffer. Within a second he has assessed the situation and standing next to the piano, he begins to sing, ‘In einem Bächlein helle da schoß in froher Eil….’

Immediately Fr Weinhoffer settles into a less frenetic pace and a bearable volume. The Bechstein is grateful, along with the entire room. And Guido’s voice cuts the air to shreds.