‘Never mind that, Jelly. We have to work with what we’ve got, as best we can. Therefore, please suggest a date after 26th November when you’re free and we can play this poor imprisoned concerto at last. Oh, and by the way… I’m afraid that rearranging the live transmission may not be as simple as one might like.’

‘Do you think you won’t be able to broadcast it now?’ It would be so much easier if the English would simply say what they mean.

‘As you know, Jelly, we plan things months in advance, and the detail involved in a broadcast is so complex that… ’

Jelly, on edge with nerves, didn’t want to cry down the telephone to the BBC’s head of music. ‘Is it all the fuss about… the messages?’

‘It’s nothing to do with that,’ he insisted. ‘We’ll try to broadcast it, we really will, but either we can play it in late November without a broadcast, or we can put it off for a few months, or… ’ He tailed off.

She didn’t believe him. Obviously people’s scorn of ‘spiritualism’ was poisoning the BBC against her too.

‘Perhaps the Germans want to derail us, stop us performing it altogether,’ she considered. ‘They won’t like someone who has Jewish relations playing their precious Aryan piece… ’

‘I couldn’t possibly comment. But incidentally… I’m told there is some interest in Jerusalem. Our broadcasting counterpart, the Chamber Orchestra of the Palestine Broadcasting Service, has heard about the concerto and is hoping to perform it.’

‘Jerusalem?’ Jelly reeled.

‘Their leader, Sasha Parnes, would be the soloist. The Nazis are not going to like that, either, but the cat’s out of the bag – this concerto will be public property the very second Schott is allowed to release the printed score. Neither they nor you can prevent that.’

‘All the more reason, then, that we must be able to do something about this. We can’t let them keep on stopping us.’

‘Good luck with that,’ Boult said.

Jelly didn’t like sarcasm. ‘Well, if you were me, what would you do?’

‘Hmm… ’ A silence while Boult mused. ‘He knows you from your cathedral tour, so I suppose you could always write to the prime minister.’

*