“Yes.”
“And so too was Hackmeyer at the Académie with me. We were pupils of Auguste Mallelieu.”
“Wow, were you?”
“You know his reputation. Before his death he was the most powerful man in the world of European music. You know he wrote for the papers, and one bad notice from him could ruin a musician or an orchestra. Also, he made a lot of stars. Very many of the best musicians in the world have been
taught or patronised by him.”
“I know. Including Julius Hackmeyer.”
“You are right. He made Hackmeyer. He was the star pupil in his composition and conducting classes, right from the start. I tried to compete, but I was always more a violinist first, you know.”
“Like me.”
“Uh-huh. But, because I had a talent, I was also a favourite of Professeur Mallelieu, and Hackmeyer doesn’t like this. He is threatened. So we are rivals, right away.”
“You were never friends.”
“Never. But Mallelieu has always a little inner circle of his favourites, his acolytes, and we were both included, so we saw quite a lot of each other. We go to the same dinners, the same concerts, the same parties. And always there is a tension between us, because we both want to be number one with Mallelieu.”
“Typical.” Lydia shook her head. “There’s plenty of room for both of you. Why have a pissing contest over it?”
“Lydia, we are young men, nineteen, twenty years old. We are full of stupid ideas.”
“Most men grow out of them.”
“You are very severe today, milácku.”
“I’m sorry. I think Karl-Heinz is rubbing off on me.”
Milan paused and raised his eyebrow, causing Lydia to blush at what she’d just said and the no doubt filthy interpretation her lover was putting on it.
“Not like that,” she said, grimacing into her coffee.
“Never mind Karl-Heinz. In our third year, the game gets serious. We are both invited to Mallelieu’s home, to perform at a private concert for an elite audience. While we are there, we meet Mallelieu’s daughter, Sophie.”
“Oh God, tell me you didn’t try to seduce her!”
Milan took a deep breath and gave Lydia his best poker face.
“You know me, Lydia,” he said.
“Milan! You’re mad.”
“Well, it was more complicated than that. At this concert, Sophie and I flirted a lot, but it was no more than that. Hackmeyer, on the other hand, he is like a bull at a gate. Insists on getting her number, taking her out. And he is so forceful, she feels she cannot say no.”
“But what did Mallelieu think of that? Wasn’t he angry with Hackmeyer?”
“No. And do you know why?”
Lydia shook her head, enthralled now by the unfolding saga.
“Because Mallelieu is a snob. And Hackmeyer is a member of one of Europe’s oldest and richest families.”
“Is he?”
“You didn’t know? You’ve met him and he hasn’t mentioned yet that he is descended from the Hapsburgs? Never mind, he will tell you at this dinner, I’m sure.”