‘She hasn’t eaten,’ Boult cut in. ‘I am sure we can fix her with nothing more elaborate than a jolly good meal. Now, my wife is waiting downstairs in the restaurant… ’

‘Sir Adrian, leave it to me. I will arrange everything.’ The manager took his leave and strode away.

Jelly tried to laugh, but she felt too dizzy to sit up.

‘Your sister is coming, my dear,’ Boult said. ‘I’ve telephoned her.’

‘Oh, but – Adrian, you don’t understand.’

‘I understand perfectly. They’ll come, we’ll all eat and they’ll take you home.’

‘Nooo! I’m here because I wish to be, I need to be independent… ’

‘Yes, yes, you may be. You may be, and do, and go, anywhere you wish. But not until after we’ve played the Schumann. All right? I refuse to see you go off the rails. You may want to, but I won’t let it happen.’

‘I’m not off the rails. I’ve never been so happy in my life!’

‘That,’ said Boult, ‘is exactly what I mean.’ He sat beside her and kept his voice low. ‘Do you know how this begins to happen to musicians? They drink. They drink alone. Then they take too many of the wrong pills, the morphine, the barbiturates, and they lose the thread out of the labyrinth. Some never find it again. Now, as long as I have anything to do with it, this is not going to happen to you. If need be, I shall kidnap you myself. But the person best able to look after you is your sister, and you know that as well as I do.’

John, the red-eared little porter, came in carrying a china cup and saucer. ‘Miss d’Arányi, madam, my auntie in ’ousekeeping says this’ll sort you out good and proper. A nice cup of tea with some sugar in it, right?’

‘Thank you, John. That’s so kind.’ Jelly propped herself up to sip it, and sure enough, no drink had ever tasted more delicious, not even the White Lady. After a minute, the sugar reached her bloodstream and the room’s revolutions settled into quieter orbit.

‘Jelly!’

Adila was there, in a rush of blue silk and black coat. She swooped on Jelly and gathered her into her arms. Boult made a tactful retreat.

‘You silly girl, where’ve you been?’ she boomed. ‘What are you doing here? We’ve been worrying ourselves into the ground!’

‘I’ve been playing the violin in the lounge. They all loved it.’

‘I bet they did. Now, listen. Why are you doing this?’

Jelly didn’t know where to begin. She had underestimated her own sister – and Adila, as she should know by now, was not a woman one should ever underestimate. ‘Schumann. It’s the Schumann, and the messages… I needed so much to get away… ’