Young bloods

As the dispute escalated into a seething row, Arthur felt light-headed as a thought struck him. It was a mere fancy, he chided himself. Then he looked down into the ballroom and sensed the growing impatience amongst those who had moved on to the dance floor.

Arthur took a deep breath, stood away from the pillar he had been leaning against and started walking round the gallery towards the orchestra. He knew he was being foolish, that there was every chance he would be refused, or that if they did let him replace the unconscious violinist he would be made to appear a rank amateur. But weighing against this was the thought that he might just carry it off. He might actually achieve something he could be proud of, and more importantly that his mother could be proud of. So he forced himself to continue towards the orchestra, grouped around the still form of the violinist.

As the conductor sensed his approach he turned towards the boy with a raised eyebrow. 'I am sorry, sir, but we are a little preoccupied right now.'

'Perhaps I can help,' Arthur replied in French. He indicated the man on the ground as the stench of brandy reached his nose. 'I can take his place.'

'You?' The conductor smiled. 'Thank you for the offer, but I think we have enough of a problem already.'

'I'm not playing alone,' the surviving violinist said firmly.

The conductor whipped round and stabbed towards the man with his baton. 'You'll play, damn you!'

'No.'

'Gentlemen!' Arthur stepped between them with raised hands. 'Gentlemen, please. You have an audience waiting for you. An increasingly impatient audience…'

The conductor peered over the balcony and noted the unambiguous expressions below on the floor of the ballroom. He turned back to Arthur. 'So you can play the violin. How well?'

'Well enough for your needs.'

'Really?' the conductor asked. 'Dances?'

'I can manage that, sir.'

The conductor considered the offer for a moment and then slapped his thigh in frustration. 'Oh, very well! I've got nothing to lose except tonight's fee, and perhaps my reputation.' He nodded towards the drunk. 'You can take his instrument.'

With a quick smile Arthur leaned down, grabbed the violin case and undid the catches. Inside the varnished instrument gleamed. He took it out, and under the watchful eye of the conductor, he plucked each string to check for tuning and made a minor adjustment to E before he tucked it between chin and shoulder, slid his left hand down towards the nut, flexed his fingers and raised the bow. 'Ready.'

'All right then.Take a seat.We'll start with something slow and simple. Here.' He slipped some sheet music on Arthur's music stand. 'Know this one?'

Arthur glanced over the notation: a gavotte by Rameau. 'Yes, sir. I've played it before. I'll keep up.'

'I hope so,' the conductor muttered. 'For all our sakes.'

The conductor called his orchestra to attention, indicated the beat and began. It was a short piece, intended to do little more than signal that the dancing was about to begin, and offer the audience a chance to ease themselves into a straightforward series of steps. Arthur knew the piece well enough to keep up with the other musicians, and when it came to an end the conductor nodded to him. 'Well done, sir. Are you ready for something a little more pacy?'

Arthur nodded and the conductor moved on to the next dance on the programme. As the next piece began Arthur found that he felt happier than he had been at any time since his father died. The familiar feel of the instrument and the pleasure he derived from playing it meant that he played as a fully integrated part of the orchestra. When he looked up at the conductor and received a nod of acknowledgement that he was performing well Arthur smiled and continued with a growing sense of delight. Dance followed dance, and down on the floor of the ballroom the finely dressed audience moved with a synchronised grace. The hours passed with a short break halfway through the programme, when Arthur shared some bottles of wine with the other members of the orchestra and basked in their appreciation of his talent.

When the final piece came to an end the conductor turned to the audience and they applauded loudly. As the last echoes of the clapping subsided he raised a hand to attract their attention.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, my orchestra and I thank you most humbly for your appreciation, but before the evening is concluded I wish to draw attention to one amongst us in particular.' He turned and indicated to Arthur that he should stand up. For an instant Arthur was too embarrassed to respond, then as the conductor beckoned to him again, Arthur rose hesitantly to his feet.

'We were indeed fortunate to have this young gentleman in the audience tonight,' the conductor explained. 'With the, er, sudden incapacitation of one of my violinists, this young man offered his services. While I admit that I had my doubts, and was reluctant to accept his offer of help, it soon became quite clear that he is an accomplished violin player. Ladies and Gentlemen, please join me in expressing our gratitude to…' He turned quickly to Arthur and whispered, 'By God! I never asked your name.'

'Arthur Wesley, sir.'

The conductor swept his arm out to indicate the boy and a

The audience applauded and Arthur blushed as he acknowledged their appreciation.

Then there was a sharp cry of surprise from the floor of the ballroom. 'Arthur? My Arthur?'

Looking down,Arthur caught sight of his mother, still standing next to the army officer. She looked furious, but as she became aware of the people smiling around her, she nodded to her son and beamed, like any parent basking in the reflected glory of a child's public achievement. Arthur felt his heart surge with pride and waved back to her.Then he placed the violin on his chair and after a round of handshaking with the rest of the orchestra, and much slapping of his back, he quit the gallery and descended to the floor of the ballroom. Passing through the crowd he acknowledged the odd comment of praise or gratitude, until he joined Lady Mornington.

She smiled at him and, embracing him by the shoulders, whispered close to his ear, 'Oh, well done, Arthur! I imagine that everyone thinks we're the kind of family that has to sing for our supper. I've never been so ashamed in my life.'

She drew back from him with a frigid smile. He stared at her with a hurt and surprised expression that contrasted sharply with her look. Before Arthur could respond, the army officer stepped forward and grasped his hand.

'Well done, Wesley. That was brave of you. Not many boys of your age could have been cool-headed enough to carry that off.'

'Brave?'

'Yes.'The army officer was about to continue when he stopped himself with a self-deprecating smile. 'My profound apologies, I haven't introduced myself to you. Forgive me.' He raised his hand and grasped Arthur's hand firmly. 'Colonel William Ross. I'm an attache at the embassy. Delighted to make your acquaintance.'

'As am I, sir.' Arthur bowed his head.

'Fine piece of work, lad. No wonder your mother's so obviously proud of you.'

'Oh, fie!' A

'Lady Mornington has told me all about you.'

'Has she, indeed?'

'Yes, my boy. Seems that you have no thoughts about a career at present.'

'That is true, sir. I am trying to improve my French while we are in Brussels, but beyond that I have only my music.'

'You have a rare talent for the violin, Wesley. That's clear enough, but I think that you will find that is not enough for someone of your background.' He leaned forward a fraction to fix Arthur with his piercing blue eyes.'And, I suspect that, despite the pleasure you obviously derive from your musical skills, you crave something a little more exciting, eh?'