Chapter 2

"Coming with us?"

"I don't think so… I'm tired and I'll just return to my hotel."

"How long are you in Paris for?"

"2 more weeks… Maybe a month even… It all depends…"

"Depends on what?"

"On how things turn out."

Baumont knew better than to probe further. The Japanese judge had a look about him that made it clear that he wasn't in any frame of mind for conversation. He simply nodded and made his way to his car. The Paris Conservatory annual piano competition was finally over and he was in no mood for socializing. The Japanese-born, international piano virtuoso was not in the mood for any kind of celebratory soiree. His visit to Paris, although not an unmitigated disaster as yet, had not gone as well as he would have liked. He had come to visit his son, whom he hadn't seen for 3 years and while the first meeting had its awkward moments, it had not been wholly unpleasant. The second encounter, on the other hand, ended in a host of angry words that he was loathe to recall. Father and son crossing swords about matters long past but still hovered between them unresolved. He sighed regretfully about the state of things. Truth be told, he didn't know what he had expected but he had hoped for better things. He blamed himself for not being there when his son needed him most but he wanted to make amends. If there was a way to expiate for his past sins, he would. His only fear was that he wouldn't have the opportunity.

As his conscience rebuked him sharply, he was compelled to turn his thoughts to more pleasant things. The annual competition at the Conservatory had been a welcome distraction. To his surprise, it had made his time in Paris somewhat more bearable. And that Noda Megumi… an odd creature. Nonetheless, the talent was there no doubt. From what he had seen, she had not yet reach the depths of her potential and could even become one of the great interpreters of Chopin.

She began with a lackluster Mozart and stormed home with Chopin's Heroic Polonaise to snatch third place. But just. A pianist traipsing on the edge… mercurial and brilliant… it was rare to see a musician so transparent in her execution. At times one could sense the shadowy figure of the Polish composer lurking in the background egging her on. But something was tormenting her in a way only a Chopin could expunge… if only for a moment.

The Japanese judge was interested and disturbed.

He lingered around on campus for some time and enjoyed a cigarette or two before rising and making his way to the practice rooms. Too long had he used his music to rationalize his decisions. Now, there was only music left with which to find consolation.

It was late but he was not entirely surprised to hear that there was someone who had stayed behind and practice. He followed the sound of Beethoven in the distance and wondered where it would lead.

Beethoven's Pathetique… Adagio cantabile played wistfully and somewhat mournfully. He peered into room and there she was… the dark hair bobbing in tempo with the piece… momentarily transported to a happier place and entranced by the modulating rhythms of the music. It was surprisingly correct and yet still captured the mood of the player.

Not wanting to interrupt and yet desirous of meeting this fascinating creature, he quietly pushed open the large steel door and walked softly toward the second piano. The pied piper continued calling.

Was she recalling childhood memories or dreaming of love? Her fingers fell onto the keys and seemed to tell stories that he had no part of. He watched, waited and remembered. The first time he played this piece in Europe… it was too long ago… his wife and three year old son in the front row smiling their encouragement and clapping enthusiastically when he'd finished. Back then, he thought he was the luckiest man in the world. Now, he was all alone in Paris sitting in a practice room with two pianos and a pianist who was lost in her musically induced dream state. The tears welled up and fell like raindrops on parched land.

But the music had to come to an end. Who was she playing for? I wonder.

"Are you alright, monsieur?" She was facing him now, looking anxious. The years seem to fall off her as she came back down to earth and out of her hypnotic trance.

"Don't mind me. I'm fine. That piece brings back wonderful memories."

"Really? It holds good memories for me too."

"What kind of memories?"

"You could say that it brought my former boyfriend and I together."

"Former boyfriend?"

"We are no longer together." She muttered haltingly and looked away momentarily.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Did you play that to remember? He saw the sadness in her eyes and felt great empathy for her. He promptly changed the subject.

"Let's not speak of such depressing things. You're Japanese, aren't you? So am I."

"Really, uncle!" She clasped her hand together in delight. "It's marvellous to be able to meet another Japanese person in this place." She quickly lapsed into her native tongue.

"I saw you play today… your interpretation of Chopin was enthralling."

"Was it? I made such a muck of the first piece. I think I was lucky to get third place."

"There's nothing lucky about the way you play, Noda Megumi."

"Please… call me, Nodame. Everyone does. Do you like classical music, uncle?"

"Oh yes, very much."

"Would you like me to play something for you?"

"I would like that very much. What about the Revolutionary Etude? I have never heard anyone play it the way you played it in the semi-finals."

"If you want me to… I will."

Nodame… Nodame… Did he know her from some where? The nagging feeling remained with him. She was innocence, mischief and sincerity all rolled into one. This was a creature who understood what it meant to embrace music with arms wide open and it was reflected in every note she played. She was not afraid to bare her soul and demanded that her listener to do the same. For her, it was all about the moment…

He closed his eyes and allowed the moment to take him back. For the first time in a very long, he didn't feel quite so alone.

When she had finished, she turned to look at him, scrutinizing him closely.

"Gyabo! I thought you looked familiar. You were one of the judges." Nodame exclaimed.

"Guilty…" He responded, looking faintly embarrassed.

"Why didn't you say so?"

"There was no need. We were getting on so nicely. Nodame… I've just had an idea. I'm giving some concerts at the Conservatoire while I'm in Paris. I would like you to do a duet with me."

"Uncle's a pianist too?"

He nodded. "So are you interested in my offer?"

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Do you have any ideas what you'd like to do?"

"You… are asking me?"

"Yes, I'm asking you." He smiled.

"You're a brave man."

"It would be my pleasure."

"It would be my honour, uncle! But I can't believe you would want me to..."

"Who's your teacher here?"

"Monsieur Auclair."

"That's convenient. He's an old friend of mine. He was my teacher too, for a short time. I'll make sure it's alright with him."

"Uncle," She started hesitantly. "If I'm going to make music with you, I'd like to know your name…"

"I haven't introduced myself properly, have I? How remiss of me… I'm Chiaki… Chiaki Masayuki. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."