I was a bit worried about what Dad’s reaction would be when he got home. I put a lot of effort into the note I left for him. I said I had to go away on my own to think about the future and life in general. He was very fond of thinking things over himself, so I felt sure he would understand the need for it and that would put his mind at rest. I explained that I couldn’t tell him where I was going but that I wouldn’t take any risks. I’d be back in a few days’ time and then I’d go to El Dorado with him every evening and would always shave first. I underlined the word “shave”. I also said I was sorry about the cans of ravioli I was taking with me. I tried to be as reassuring and comforting as possible, but I still had some scruples:

Scruples a feeling of doubt or uncertainty about the morality or propriety of a course of action; anxiety about a moral issue.

Marie was probably having feelings of doubt and uncertainty too.

I held her hand and stamped on the brambles in front of her so that her legs wouldn’t get scratched. She was carrying her cello on her back, in a case that was bigger than she was. The forest was deep, dark and cool and the cabin hadn’t changed, just as Etienne had told me. A little wave of nostalgia took me back to the time we built it… It was a really neat cabin, with its proper door, its four bunk beds and its little kitchen corner. We’d intended to spend several days there, hanging out with our music. But rock music is a bit feeble without access to electricity, so we’d quickly abandoned the idea of an artistic retreat. I just hoped Etienne wasn’t planning to bring Warty Toadskin there. We weren’t exactly singing from the same songsheet: all they cared about was smooching to the sound of rock music, while my concern was Marie’s destiny, stitched together from semiquavers. Just three short days and two nights. Two nights with our fingers crossed. With a bit of luck, Marie’s parents might not send out search parties until the next day, or even the day after. It was feasible. And in that case we’d be in with a chance of having the audition sewn up, without running into any obstacles.

“Look,” said Marie, rummaging in her bag. “Look what I remembered to bring…”

She held up the piece of paper like a flag and I read the words “Friday, eleven o’clock”. I had stage fright already.