‘Did he not want us to handle his tuning in the future at all?’

‘No, he didn’t go that far.’

‘I’m really sorry,’ I said, and bowed my head. I sensed all eyes in the office on me.

‘There’s no need for you to apologize, Tomura-kun. It’s not like he said he’s changing companies because he doesn’t like you. It’s possible he simply isn’t playing the piano any more.’

If that was the case, he would have said so.

‘At any rate, it’s not your fault. Times are tough all round. There aren’t that many families who play the piano as a hobby and have the extra cash to get them tuned regularly every year.’

She managed to make it sound as if it wasn’t my fault at all. But that couldn’t be. If he’d been pleased with my tuning, I’m sure he wouldn’t have cancelled.

Returning to my desk, I was careful not to let my feelings show, but was unable to hold back an enormous sigh. Am I really that bad? I happened to glance up and saw Mr Akino look away quickly.

‘What do you think is the single most important thing for a tuner?’ I ventured to ask.

Mr Akino, still not looking at me, said, ‘A good tuning hammer.’

‘No, that isn’t what I meant,’ I said, pressing him, when a voice from the other side of the office chipped in, ‘Perseverance.’

This came from Mr Yanagi. ‘And courage, too.’

‘Plus resignation,’ Mr Akino muttered.

All kinds of responses were flying at me. They didn’t say anything about talent or ability, and for that, with the way I was feeling now, I felt incredibly grateful.

‘Perseverance I suppose I can understand,’ Miss Kitagawa said with a wry laugh.

I could understand courage, too. You can completely change the nature of a piano with your ministrations – without courage you could never take on that responsibility. ‘Then what about resignation?’ All eyes turned to Mr Akino.

‘Come on, guys, I think you’re misunderstanding me.’ Mr Akino pulled a long face. ‘No matter what you do,’ he said, ‘you’ll never reach perfection. At a certain point you have to come to a decision, say this is it, put your tools down and give up.’

‘And if you don’t, then what?’ Mr Yanagi asked the question that was already on my lips.

‘If you can never decide when to call it quits, then at some point you go mad,’ Mr Akino said lightly.

I wondered if the silence in the room meant they all agreed. Pursue perfection, refuse to give up and you’re on the route to insanity. Had I ever been in danger of that myself, even for a moment?

‘Didn’t we talk about this once before?’ Mr Yanagi asked.