Musical Beds (Food Of Love 2)

He paused. The elevator had arrived. They both stepped inside.

“I’ve heard some interesting rumours. You might be able to confirm or deny them for me.”

“You want me to dish the dirt?” Lydia felt resentful and irritated at von Ritter’s presumption. Milan might be breaking her heart, but that didn’t mean she was going to avenge herself by breaking his confidences.

“I want to start my career with the WSO forearmed with as much knowledge as possible about its inner workings.” He looked down at her and smiled. “As a conductor, my instrument is all of you. I need to know how to tune you up. How to keep you in good condition. You see?”

“Yes, yes. Okay. Dinner. There’s a Thai place near here Milan always…” she sighed, “recommends.”

“Thai is good for me,” he said, striding with her out into the lobby.

Within minutes they were ensconced in a hidden booth in the restaurant, looking at menus and sipping aperitifs.

“Mr Kaspar certainly throws an interesting party,” said von Ritter mildly.

“He’s a dreadful host,” said Lydia. “Throwing a party in your honour then buggering off to shag the other guests. Bad manners. He’s always had those, though.”

“I’m sorry, Lydia. He’s upset you. I’d had the impression that you and he…”

“Yeah. It’s a long and stupid and complicated story. But it’s ended. I’m drawing a line under it. He can ruin himself as much as he wants. I couldn’t care less anymore.”

“Ah.” Von Ritter gave her a melancholy look. “I don’t think that’s quite true, is it? This is bravado. You know him well, I observe. What would you say makes him, what’s the phrase, like a clock?”

“Tick?”

“Yes, this is it, what makes him tick?”

“In a word, ego and naked ambition. Sorry, that’s four words.”

“You think he is an egotist?”

“God, yes. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know him as well as you. He has a reputation for being difficult to deal with. We knew about that even as far away as Nürnberg.”

“I’m sorry, Herr von Ritter.”

“Oh, call me Karl-Heinz.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable discussing him like this. I feel disloyal. I know that’s illogical, given how he’s treated me, but there it is.”

“So perhaps I should find out the hard way. Like Ms McKenzie did?”

“Oh, don’t. That was awful. She was lovely and he was a bastard to her.”

“She let him, I think. I won’t let him.”

“No.” Lydia studied him. “I don’t think you will. Which is good.”

The waiter appeared to take their order, providing a natural break in the conversation, after which Karl-Heinz seemed to steer the conversation away from Milan.

“So, you are still pretty new to the orchestra, right?”

“Yes, I joined in January.”

“How are you finding it?”

“It was a dream come true, of course. But, I must admit, I’ve had a rough introduction, with one thing and another. All the same, I wouldn’t exchange positions for the world. When we work together, when we’re on the concert platform and the music pours out of us, it’s like nothing else on earth. It’s what life’s all about.”