Philip and Mary Hopkins could honestly say that they had never pushed their children nor sought to realise their own failed dreams through them. They hadn’t screamed from sidelines. There had been no recriminations for only coming second but encouragement in plenty and delight over over even the smallest success. And that was as true with their youngest daughter Julia as with the others.
Julia had shown little interest in music, apart from pop, until high school when a strong music department and a dedicated teacher and mentor had introduced her to the cello and opened up a wider world. That teacher, Rachel Foster, was a cellist herself and active in the local music community. Rachel had seen the girl’s potential and it was from her that Julia’s commitment had come. Her house had become Julia’s second home.
The Hopkins had never been well off and, although Mary sang in amateur productions, light opera represented the very peak of their musical appreciation but Rachel convinced them, that as parents, they had something special that needed to be nurtured and made sacrifices for.
It was Rachel who had found other teachers when her own abilities were overreached and cajoled them into giving their services free or for a nominal fee ‘for the greater public good’ as she put it. It was Rachel who was on hand to ease the stress of that first concerto competition for young soloists. That frightening first time of playing with the full symphony orchestra. Julia had played the first movement of Boccherini’s Ninth in B flat with its bravura passages for the solo instrument and that complex cadenza that demonstrates to the full a performer’s virtuosity. Even at that early stage, Julia was displaying a considerable technique. It was Rachel who pushed for the scholarship to the Royal College of Music.
Even there, Julia had not been on her own. Rachel had numerous contacts in the old country. One being a woman who, at first a friend, had later become Julia’s agent and manager. It had taken years to become established but Julia’s star had been steadily rising. In a market vastly overstocked with aspiring talent, Julia Hopkins was becoming known and respected. Working more and more frequently with first-tier orchestras, she was generally expected to reach the very top rank of
FOOL’S DAY Page 2 1855 words performers. She was even being hinted as being the new Du Pre which was possibly the ultimate accolade.
She was a good daughter and, in spite of her harried life as a performer, a good correspondent. Always, there had been a letter every few days and more recently E-mail. Sometimes Stella, her agent, would write giving information that Julia was too modest to include, sending copies of reviews. Stella was, if anything, more friend than agent and perhaps more fond aunt than friend.
Peter Sutherland began to figure prominently in Julia’s letters. Although raised in the same town, Peter came from a very different background. No scholarships for him. His family had money and influence, money enough to pay for his tuition and provide a generous allowance until he became established, influence enough to have his artistry widely touted back home. The problem was that, although in London several years before Julia, he had failed to make his mark. The earlier promise was not being fulfilled. Pianistic prowess is two-a-penny on the London Market and one needed that special spark to stand out. It could be in some ways his allowance was a trap. The need to push and shoulder himself forward was just not there.
To Peter though, life was treating him unfairly. He believed the home-town, small-puddle, hype that he had talent to excess. It was the public who were lacking, unable to appreciate musical niceties without help. They had to be fed with big names. If you were famous you could get away with anything. Be unknown and the most perfect technique and feel for the music would totally escape their notice.
Julia was in a position to know better than this but, since meeting Peter, she had come to accept this rationalisation too. Peter was one of those charming young men, full of their own importance, that young women tend to fall all over and take at their own inflated valuation. She also believed that if she could give Peter the least leg-up, have him noticed, he must surely soar and if anyone deserved it, he did.
The idea was being floated of Julia putting her present course on hold, ‘just for the time being’,
FOOL’S DAY Page 3 1855 words and forming a chamber group, a piano trio, with Peter and his violinist flatmate who, like him, remained lost in the musical undergrowth. That was where Stella began to feel alarm. To side-track a blossoming career as a soloist to assist a pair of light-weights might be the course of idiocy and yet it looked all too likely to happen. It was Peter’s suggestion and anything that Peter suggested automatically had Julia’s approval. Fortunately, Julia’s forward commitments did not allow any change of direction before the end of the year. Stella’s warnings to Julia were being disregarded and causing bad feeling between them. She had written to the parents hoping that they might be able to make Julia see some sense. But when have daughters listened to parents particularly where young men are concerned?
And it got worse. Peter’s parents made the trip to London at which time Peter and Julia took the opportunity to announce their engagement. Stella’s phone call came only minutes after Julia’s own call home with this unwelcome news. And shortly after this again a local call from Rachel. Stella had rung her too asking her to add her weight.
Stella was most unhappy. In her view, until Julia became firmly established it was best that she defer any thought of marriage. Years of effort, all the lean years, could go for nothing and it was clear that Stella did not like either Peter or his parents. She had the feeling that Peter’s parents were not entirely pleased with the arrangement believing that Peter was marrying beneath himself and believing that, if there was any justice in this world, their son should be the one having success. Probably the one redeeming feature, in their eyes, would be that Julia just might lift Peter onto the first step after which his career would surely leave hers in the dust. Stella said that she had asked before but she must ask again, could Phil and Mary make Julia see sense? Surely there was something they could do. She herself dare not even try.
But some weeks later Stella’s anxieties seemed to have been unnecessary. Peter had sent a curt note renouncing the engagement and asking for his ring back. In some unexplained way it was Julia’s fault. She rang him but all she could get was, “You know why!” And he had hung up. But she
FOOL’S DAY Page 4 1855 words didn’t know why. And after that, he had made himself unavailable. His flatmate answered the phone and the door. Peter was always out.
Phil and Mary had had a BMW pull up outside one afternoon. The car and the couple who stepped from it were unfamiliar but not unexpected. Julia had said that Peter’s parents would call sometime to make themselves known. “I think this must be our curtain call,” Phil had said but the only return from Mary was a blank stare of incomprehension.
It was a trying two hours and not just because it was clear that Peter’s parents considered that they were slumming. Peter’s father was not too bad but the mother was different matter and obviously the one with the chairman’s casting vote. In spite of the enforced bonhomie of the occasion, it was obvious that friendship with her would always be little more than an armed truce and a shaky one at that.
And Peter’s parents, for their part, were quick to realise that there was something wrong with Mary. She looked healthy but seemed to be off with the fairies much of the time. Her unwavering stare and slack jaw were embarrassing. She took no part in the conversation unless prompted by her husband and even then it was sometimes necessary for him to tap her gently on the arm to gain her attention. When she did speak she was liable to lose the thread of what she was saying and need reminding.
Phil had made the afternoon tea, taking Mary with him, and continuing the conversation at long range while doing so. There was a particularly disconcerting incident when Mary lifted her partly- filled teacup toward her lips and stopped halfway apparently having forgotten what she was doing. And there it stayed! Phil, involved in telling of a recent event, had failed to notice but Peter’s parents had watched fascinated as the hand holding the cup began to tremble with fatigue and the trembling gradually became more violent.
FOOL’S DAY Page 5 1855 words “Hey! Careful,” Peter’s father had said at last, pointing, but the call had come too late and the contents of the cup had landed in Mary’s lap. Mary returned from wherever she had been and screamed and Phil had been immediately solicitous blaming himself. He had mopped up the excess with a napkin. “Go and get changed dear,” he had said as to a child and pointed her toward the bedroom.
They had carried on a desultory conversation while she was away but it was clear that both sides were embarrassed making conversation difficult. Peter’s father had finally voiced the question that both he and his wife had uppermost in mind. “Has your wife had a stroke?” “No. It’s not a stroke.” Phil seemed unhappy at having the difficulty noticed and more so at having to discuss it. “It’s called Boult’s Syndrome. It affects the brain chemistry. It’s hereditary. Comes through the female line. Some get, some don’t. Mary was O.K. Up until a month back….Now this.” His voice had faltered and he had stopped there, overcome, his desolation all too obvious.
They had suddenly realised that Mary had been gone for a very long time so Phil had gone to find out what the problem was. He found her close up behind the door in a fresh set of clothes, listening to the conversation, and shaking with silent laughter. He had given her the thumbs up. It was far and away her finest performance. She had paid him the same complement. They waited long enough for Phil to have helped her dress and the time was needed anyway to get her back into a sober frame of mind and back into her part. And while they waited, the sound of fierce whispering came from the other room. Peter’s mother laying down the law. She had ceased abruptly as they re-entered.
The couples parted with professions of pleasure at having met and had reiterated their delight at the forthcoming marriage. They had promised to keep in touch and Phil and Mary had stood at the kerb waving until the BMW passed out of sight.