32) Topsy turvy
„We cannot and we will not tolerate that.", M.Firmin declared, folding his arms in front of his chest defiantly. M.André nodded in approval. Both of them were looking sternly at Mme.Giry, as usual the bearer of bad news. "The last time we followed this… this madman´s instructions our best dancer, who happens to be your daughter, was humiliated in public.", M.André reminded her.
"There are no alternatives.", the woman said simply, ignoring his attempt to drag the conversation onto a personal level. "In this note…" She held up a piece of paper with the unmistakable scrawl. "…the Opera Ghost states clearly that he wants his opera to be performed instead of ´Il figlio di Firenze´. The first night will be on the planned date." "But that´s in two weeks´ time.", M.Firmin exclaimed. "Two weeks – this means fourteen days!"
"I´m well aware of how many days two weeks have, monsieur.", Mme.Giry muttered with an ironic smile. "If you know that, you also know that the task he has set is impossible to fulfil for us." M.André left his place next to his business partner and moved closer to the woman. He looked at her pleadingly. "Couldn´t you talk to your… your friend and tell him to wait till next year? Then we´d have enough time to stage his opera."
The ballet teacher threw him a glance which clearly said that she thought he was insane. "How many times do I have to repeat this? We´re not dealing with the request of an interested opera-goer here. This man, who is by no means my friend, is potentially dangerous. You´ve experienced what he´s capable of. Nicole Grandoir´s ´accident´, the raw meat on stage… Who knows what else he could do? Besides, it´s his opera and-"
"It´s our opera!", M.Firmin positively howled. With an agility usually unknown by the portly man he jumped up from his desk and approached Mme.Giry as well. Suddenly the woman found herself surrounded by the managers. "Go and tell this ghost or man or whatever he is that we won´t stage that ridiculous work of his.", M.Firmin hissed. "´The steadfast tin soldier´ - Would a decent opera have such a title?"
"Well, actually…" The three people spun around as they heard a voice from a chair next to the door. They had almost forgotten that they were not alone. M.Reyer, who had listened to the argument with silent amusement, cleared his throat before going on. "Actually this is not only a ´decent´ opera, but a brilliant one. It contains some of the most demanding songs I´ve ever seen in my life as a conductor. Brilliant, simply brilliant…" He sighed dreamily.
First and foremost, M.Reyer was a musician. Ever since he had read the score about an hour ago his fingers were itching. He was keen on finding out whether he could play the difficult passages on his violin, and he knew it would be the same for the ambitious musicians in his orchestra. They wouldn´t care who had composed the new opera, as long as it meant they didn´t have to perform ´Il figlio di Firenze´ yet again.
Unfortunately the managers didn´t share his enthusiasm. "But there is so little time.", M.André muttered, although he already smelt that defeat was in the air. "The dancers learn quickly.", Mme.Giry said firmly, straightening up to her full height. The unexpected support had been very good for her self-confidence. "So do the singers and musicians.", M.Reyer told them, standing up and placing himself next to the ballet teacher.
"But… but the scenery is already painted. Can we use it?", M.Firmin asked, in the manner of someone desperate to achieve at least a tiny personal success. He frowned, calculating how much it would cost to do everything again. He already anticipated the answer Mme.Giry gave. "I´m afraid that won´t be possible. The opera takes place on a table in a children´s room most of the time. How do you want to get that together with a scenery of Florence?"
Seeing his friend´s hands clench into fists M.André decided to help him, even though he knew he was grasping at straws. "We have the list with the cast here.", he said, picking it up from the desk with a theatrical gesture. "Yet there´s a name missing. The Opera Ghost has only given us the understudy for the role of the Tin Soldier; he simply left blank the other line. How are we supposed to start rehearsing like this?" This time it was M.Reyer who reacted first. "We´ll practice with the understudy till M. le Fantome has made his decision."
M.Firmin´s face had grown very red during the last sentences. "Great!", he yelled. "Now the ballet mistress decides about the scenery and the conductor tells us we have to wait until the resident ghost has made his choice. We are the managers, for Heaven´s sake! What are we here for if you can do everything alone?"
The corners of Mme.Giry´s mouth twitched. "Well, someone has to pay my salary.", she told them in a friendly voice. "And mine.", M.Reyer added. "And mine!", Erik couldn´t help calling from his place in the secret passageway behind the office. He had watched the entire conversation through a hole in one of the pictures on the wall and was already feeling much more cheerful. The managers looked at each other, groaned in unison and nodded.