Adolé had resigned herself to it, but she still could not understand it. She hadn't been thrilled either when Roswitha came around the corner with this unusual idea, but by now she understood the meaning behind this action and even had something like fun with it. Besides, she knew - because she had tried it over and over again without success over the years - that there was absolutely no point in resisting Roswitha once she had got something into her head. She was too experienced and too determined for that, Adolé knew that.
So at some point she simply started to see these experiences, which were not the order of the day for her either, as an enrichment and change in her everyday touring life. At first, she was reluctant to accept them, but then at some point this certain desire for the unusual and experimental outweighed, in which every outsider saw no sense at first, but which was nevertheless there at the end, and that quite obviously. It was astonishing how positive something could be, if you just gave it a chance. Suddenly she even enjoyed it a lot, because nobody expected something like this album from her. So it was just good. That was the special attraction.
Therefore, there were no rules that could be followed or broken. Adolé could not understand that a grown woman like Michelle Mimieux, at her age and with her experience, would not see it the same way, but would prefer to behave like a pubescent teenager in front of the whole team.
Adolé sighed softly once more and, lost in thought, made his way to the kitchen. It was already later than usual when she thoughtfully pushed open the door to the kitchen with her foot to help herself to the coffee machine as usual.
In one hand she held her empty coffee cup, in the other her mobile phone, which she looked at incessantly as she made her way, as if by remote control, towards the refrigerator, next to which the coffee machine was placed. The other musicians had already finished their work and Adolé wanted to take the opportunity to give some of the scores a little more fine-tuning, especially since there had been nothing to be seen of Mrs. Mimieux all day long.
She liked being in the studio all by herself sometimes. Finally a piece of freedom, although there was no question that she also enjoyed teamwork and only in this way the most extraordinary pieces were created. It would be so beautiful and so practical if "Mrs. Mimieux" would at least leave her mark on her music, at least on paper. Her unique and special playing would do the record and the individual songs so much good.
"And so do you," thought Adolé amusedly - this nef
arious bar atmosphere of the twenties, just like in the days of the RatPack - and in the middle of it all, the stiff Michelle Mimieux, who just sat there apathetically and obviously swallowed a stick. Adolé couldn't let go of this image, because it didn't fit together at all - on the one hand this music of pure joy of life, on the other hand this controlled, fun-loving musician, who obviously denied herself any joy in life. Adolé grinned and wondered why "the Mimieux" made life so difficult when everything could be so simple. She should loosen up!
Lost in thought, she went further into the kitchen and around some of the kitchen furniture, further and further towards the coffee machine. Inexpediently, it was placed on the side of the kitchen room and therefore not near the entrance. Suddenly she noticed that, contrary to her expectations, she was not alone in the studio. She blinked in the sparse light of the extractor hood through the jumble of kitchen utensils hung there at the bottom end and suddenly stopped moving. In the semi-darkness, she recognized the shadowy outlines of Michelle Mimieux, who had pressed her cell phone to her ear, pushed completely into the shadows of the farthest corner. She apparently also thought she was all alone in the studio at the time. While leaning against one of the stainless steel cupboards, she was fortunately looking in a different direction, engrossed in a half-French, half-German discussion.
Adolé was deeply frightened and stopped as if rooted to the ground. This situation was unpleasant for her, she did not want to have to go through such a delicate encounter with the pianist again, but at first she did not know how to free herself from this situation, which was unpleasant for both of them.
While she was still standing there, feverishly pondering how to leave the kitchen room quietly and unnoticed, she heard fragments of sentences that were clearly confidential and under no circumstances intended for a stranger, let alone for her. Apparently Mrs Mimieux was involved in an argument, because Adolé snapped up angry half sentences like "...I don't know how... "...do what I can...", "Mon Dieu... "...hard to implement... ", ""I don't like it at all! "...on.
To avoid intruding further into the privacy of a person who had already clearly shown her what she thought of her, Adolé carefully began to move backwards, turning around and tiptoeing out of the room. While she continued to hold her empty coffee cup tightly with one hand, she tried to shimmy along the stainless steel polished kitchen cupboards towards the exit with the other hand. As quickly and as quietly as possible, she crept over the floor tiles, still wet from cleaning, further and further back in the direction from which she had come, when she suddenly got stuck on one of the pots placed underneath the shelf and rattled it loudly to the floor.
At first she stood still as if frozen, but then she turned around. Her heart was pounding in her throat, hot and cold became like her.
Like a cat, Michelle Mimieux only needed a few elegantly quick steps until she was with her, the mobile phone still in her hand, but pressed firmly to her chest.
"How dare you?! Why are you listening to other people's conversations!!?" Michelle Mimieux also indignantly addressed her. She was not even out of breath after her short sprint, which had covered the not inconsiderable distance from her hiding place in the semi-darkness of the farthest corner to the unhappy Adolé, and now she built herself up in front of her. "What impudence!" she added without waiting for an answer.
While Adolé was still busy maintaining her composure and coming up with a plausible explanation, she looked down, which did not further irritate her opponent. Michelle Mimieux continued to express her indignation vehemently.
"I've never experienced anything like this before," Michelle Mimieux pointed out with her delightful French accent.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," Adolé began stammering. "I thought I was alone and I was just going to the coffee machine when I..." And that was as far as she got. Again the Frenchwoman cut her off abruptly.
"They can tell that to whoever they want! Mind your own business and don't snoop around after me," she yapped at Adolé. "But I wasn't... ", she continued to try to explain herself and calm down, but Mimieux was not reassured.
It took Adolé a while to get her act together and then she realized that "Mrs. Mimieux" had approached her in a completely inappropriate manner, since she had not done anything reprehensible. So slowly it was enough for her. She began to collect herself, straightened up and looked Michelle Mimieux straight in the eyes. She took a deep breath, hoping fervently that her voice wouldn't break away when she answered her firmly:
"So Mrs Mimieux, I've had enough too! Who do you think you are? This is a music studio, in case you haven't noticed. We work here and record here - unfortunately without you - already for days "our" common record. Or should I say: my record?! Because every attempt to integrate it has failed miserably so far. Why actually?! What is their problem? Why is there nothing to be seen of them here most of the time!
And if I take the liberty of entering the communal kitchen in the middle of the night during my work, which should actually be our joint work, to get a coffee here after exhausting recordings, please don't blame me. I've done that a dozen times before, without meeting you here by chance and noticing too late how you are hiding in the last corner in the semi-darkness like an immature teenager, as if you had something to hide. Plus, I had no way of knowing they were even here. After all, they haven't shown themselves all day today!"
She was astonished that the otherwise rebellious and quick-witted pianist had not yet interrupted her. So she continued speaking unmoved. "...and now, if you'll excuse me, unlike you, I have business here. And my management does not wait! “
With this she circled the amazed French woman and left her standing in the kitchen, simply baffled.
6.
Several days had passed since the incident in the communal kitchen. Adolé was feeling well. It was liberating to be able to get the frustration off her chest so directly. Michelle had shown up in the studio even less than she had anyway and in the end she had disappeared from the face of the earth. "Well, actually," Adolé thought almost amusedly, "the situation is unchanged. She's not here after our "conversation" as she was before..."
She was right, apart from the fact that her recording counterpart had at least buzzed secretly through the studio, nothing had changed - now you couldn't even see her anymore. Basically, she and the team were happy about it, because now at least they were among themselves. Somehow everything always had its good sides.
Roswitha was also at the end of her Latin and that should mean something. She, as one of the leading responsible persons, could look back on the recordings so far, because fortunately, thanks to the creative studio team, they went quite well, independent of the French troublemaker. But of course she was not happy with the situation.
This was not what they had imagined when she and Ella cooked up this amazing scheme. After all, the plan was to collaborate with two world stars, whose experience and musical talent and emotions would be equally shared in this work. Instead, Adolé had taken sole responsibility for the work with the studio team, while Michelle kept completely out of it. Worse still, Michelle's occasional and unpredictable presence in the studio also caused great anxiety. Her main absence and non-participation in this major musical project had long since become the norm. However, her sporadic presence generated additional work, because the press had to be made to believe that they were working together as an equal team.
But Adolé also did not know a solution how to bring the French winger to her senses if she simply did not keep to her contractual obligations - except, of course, that afterwards the financial returns had to be divided up accordingly. After all, Mrs Mimieux had contributed almost nothing to the project.