Chapter 27

Louise got on her phone to Etienne to get him to call the place we had been to lunch yesterday because he knew the owner. Then she told him that we needed lunch for the Stable Sisters plus four and she smiled as she put her phone away.

“He’s shocked,” she said. “He said that the music shop will pay for lunch as long as we stroll around the corner for some pictures there.”

Janet laughed. “Edie, we let you come early and when we arrive you have helpers, transport, and now free lunches. What else did you organize?”

Louise smiled. “Crowds, Madam, she has organized crowds. That jazz club usually works on a small audience for the first couple of nights with hope that word of mouth will fill the place on the weekend. I think that there may be a full house on Thursday evening and queues to get in every night.”

Joyce asked about the venue. I told her it was like Cleveland in size but with a lot more atmosphere. The bus took us to the hotel, and it was a breeze to get the others settled in with the help of our French speakers.

Then, after they had freshened up, we were back in the bus and off for lunch, the driver telling Louise that he will be at the music store to pick us up at four.

I think one of our friends had been on her phone to the other two because, when we walked into the café, there was a big table with Algernon, his family and his two interpreters, already sitting there in conversation with Etienne and his boss.

It was a funny situation, the girls having just flown in from the US to find someone they knew waiting for them to have lunch. They were introduced to the other two violin players, Etienne, and his boss and then we had a lovely lunch which was an ideal way for them to settle after the flight.

Fiona told them about my concert and Louise told them that it had been a great success. They had a chuckle about the newspaper article that said I was a jazz pianist that played concerts for a laugh. The café still had some copies of the previous papers, and we showed them the pictures while our friends interpreted the articles.

There was one I hadn’t seen as it was in today’s paper, in the music review. Louise read it out in English. The other girls squealed when she read that the violin section of the orchestra had been playing finer than the reviewer had heard before. The writer had picked up on my technique, or lack of it, and stated that I was a breath of fresh air through the orchestral world.

Pet commented that I must have broken wind as I played.

Algernon announced that he had completed his task in Paris, thanks to his two helpers who had been able to convey his requests and get him the answers he wanted, even picking up on a couple of items that the target company had been trying to slip through in the small print.

Etienne’s boss, with Etienne interpreting, told us that the Monday sales had been wonderful, and that there may be a few people in the shop wanting to meet us all today. Louise whispered to me that he was a typical businessman and wouldn’t let a chance slip through his fingers.

Sure enough, there was quite a crowd in the shop when we strolled around the corner after lunch. We had some pictures taken with us handling instruments and then there were a lot of people wanting us to sign Sisters French CDs, including my friends who wanted the rest of the band on theirs.

I had a query for Etienne about small pianos for children and showed him the video of Ali and I doing the Satie. He led me to a back area where there was a lovely tiny baby grand, ideal for when she got older. He gave me a good price and I told him that I would organize the payment and gave him the address it should be shipped to. He wrote me an invoice which I photographed and sent to Allan with the bank details to make the payment.

While we were there Joyce wandered in and was idly opening guitar cases to have a look. She gasped and asked Etienne about the guitar in the case. It was certainly beautiful, and he said that it had been made for one of their customers who was a little small but had, unfortunately, passed away before it could be delivered.

She took it out of the case, and it fitted her perfectly and she tuned it and played a few chords and a bit of the Rodrigo. “It’s wonderful, it’s a Roberto Bouquette and I’ve only heard about them. Can I buy it?”

He told her he would talk to the boss and would give her a good deal because it was doing nobody any good sitting out back. She had something to carry onto the bus when it arrived to take us back to the hotel. I think that on the way we had helped sell a few more instruments, mainly guitars that we all had to sign.

The girls were all ready to drop after an evening meal at the little café, so we all had an early night. Louise said that she and the other players needed to be on duty Thursday and Friday for rehearsals but would be happy to help us again tomorrow. So, Wednesday we went out sightseeing with our guides and they made things so much easier.

In the afternoon we ended up in the dress shop where we had all got outfits last week. The band all got themselves a couple of new outfits while I and our helpers just tried things on. That evening we all had dinner in the little café where we were starting to get on first name basis with the owners, Louise telling them that we would be playing at the jazz club over the weekend.

That evening I took the band around to the jazz club, and they had a look at the stage as a Dixieland band played for a small crowd. We went out back and emptied the container so that it could be sent back. When we left here, we would be in a coach with a trailer, so we kept all of the packing to use in that. We checked all the contents had survived, took our guitar and violins in their cases with us when we left. The rest was neatly arranged for tomorrow morning when we would be back in to set up and rehearse before our first show.

We all slept in on Thursday and had to go to the café for breakfast, having missed the hotel one. Everyone was now feeling settled and ready to play so we went to the jazz club and saw the owners, who were tidying up after the previous night.

We took our time setting up and making sure everything worked as it should and then played a few songs to test for sound. We discovered that the club was a genuine one where they opened during the day for members to come in for drinks, so we did our full show over the lunch period with a growing audience.

By the time we stopped after the first half there were sandwiches and drinks for us and the club members there wanted to know if we would be playing any more. When we said we had a second half which was mainly our usual songs in a jazz style. Several got on their phones to call friends. By the time we played the second half the place was about half full of members.

The owners were amazed, asking us if we could do a lunchtime show on Friday and matinees on the weekend. Pet referred them to Allan, and they said that they would get in touch with him to negotiate a deal. Before we were on stage that night, we had got a text from Allan saying that if we wanted to do the extra shows, he had an arrangement for extra payment. That night we played to a full house, and I suspected that Louise was right and there may be a queue outside.

Friday, we did the two shows and when we went in on Saturday lunchtime the management showed us reviews in the paper which, they said, were very positive. They were happy and were, more importantly, making some money.

We did the matinee, and the Saturday evening show had many faces in the crowd that we knew, from Algernon and family to half the orchestra and their partners. We grooved and it was great. There was a lot of joy in the room, as it had been the previous two nights and it was all worth the flights, the cheap hotels, and the strange lands to bring joy to our listeners.

A lot of the same faces were back on Sunday night and gave us a standing ovation when we finished. One guy wanted to have a serious talk to us and, luckily, Louise and Etienne were still there.

With her translating we discovered that this guy had a big dance hall in Marseille and knew we would be playing there in a couple of weeks. He wanted to know if we had a free night which he could book us to play as the Sisters, seeing that we were here. He told us our French issue back catalogue was selling well.

We gave him Allan’s card and told him that Allan will let us know the where and when, if they could organize it with him supplying bigger amplification.

Monday, we left the hotel and the club in the bus. Our luggage was in the storage and our equipment in the closed trailer. The driver, Pierre, spoke good English and would be with us as far as Toulouse where we would get a Spanish speaker.

It was now the last week of April, and we were driven south to Orleans. We first unloaded the kit at the small dance hall where we would play tonight and tomorrow, and then went a short distance to the hotel where we took our luggage up to our rooms. The show that night was good, there was a big crowd and a lot of them were carrying CDs to be signed. The beds were comfortable, the food was good, and the second night was a sell-out.

The following day we were heading to Dijon and another two nights followed by a drive to Lyon for another two in the first week of May. After that we went south to Marseille where we had a Saturday, Sunday, and Monday at a big jazz club. Now, after getting confirmation from Allan, the next Friday and Saturday was in the big dance hall as the Stable Sisters.

They had arranged for us to go to the hall on the Thursday to run through our usual show just in case we all started playing jazz. Our names were now getting quite well known through the jazz world and our performances were generally sold-out. It was a lot of fun, and we signed a lot of CDs.

While we were in Marseille, Allan called to say that the distributor had put together a French cover for the Cleveland show DVD. It would be on the market next week, with a Spanish, Italian and German version the week after.

After the jazz shows in Marseille, we took our kit over to the dance hall on the Thursday and set up as our usual Sisters show. The promotors had organized the bigger amps than the ones we used for jazz, and it took a little fiddling about to get a balance. When we did, we did our usual show right through, much to the enjoyment of those workers and cleaners already in the building.

Other than the music style, the other difference was we would play this show in new outfits we had bought in Paris, and I must say we looked very chic. We had been spending our days sightseeing, shopping, or sunbathing, especially the last once we were in the South of France, so I reckoned that we looked better than we had before.

The Friday and Saturday evening shows were great. Big crowds always bring out the best in us and it was good to have a full set of gear to work with. Those shows were the first we’d done here as the Stable Sisters but not the last. There’d been several promoters and agents present at that show who contacted Allan as we went west again. We had Sunday off except for loading the trailer with our gear. Monday we were heading west to Toulouse.

The original timetable had us playing the Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday at a jazz club in Toulouse and then going south into Spain for a dance hall in Barcelona on the weekend of the following week, the second week of June.

That is, the other girls would be in the bus. Joyce and I were flying to Seville from Toulouse on Friday morning to rehearse with the orchestra there and play the Rodrigo on Saturday and Sunday night.

Before we hit the stage in Toulouse things had been changed. Allan emailed us the revised timetable which had us doing a Sisters show in a bigger dance hall in Barcelona on the Wednesday and Thursday, and then the jazz in the original dance hall on the Friday and Saturday. The promoters wanted us to do it the other way round, but the posters had been posted, and the tickets to the jazz show already close to a sell-out. There had already been a window allowed for when we got to Madrid. Now we would now be doing a Sisters show there on the weekend of the third week of June, after jazz shows on the Thursday and Friday.

The Toulouse jazz shows were again packed, and a good time was had by all. When we left the hotel on the Thursday morning, Joyce and I had our overnight bags and left our main luggage in the bus. We would also be carrying our guitars, hers being her new one which she was growing to love.

We detoured on the way to the airport, now having our Spanish speaking driver who stopped outside the railway station where Pierre would get a high-speed train back to Paris. He had been good during his time with us and had given us a lot of information and tips wherever we went. We all got off and gave him a hug and a kiss and he went off into the station with an extra bag of signed CDs in his luggage.

At the airport Joyce and I got out with our smaller bags and our guitars. The girls all gave us a hug and wished us good luck. We then entered the world of a concert soloist again, and it was almost a shock to be back in first class. We had now been living in a normal sort of world for nearly two months. Next time we saw the girls it would be in Barcelona but now we had to get to Seville and rehearse with a new orchestra.

The flight down to Seville was good; being looked after in air-conditioned comfort in first class can make you feel a whole lot better. In Seville we were greeted by a driver with a nice car, and he took us to the hotel where we checked in and freshened up. He then took us and our guitars to the concert hall where an orchestra was waiting for us.

We were given some time to warm up our fingers, and then we did the Rodrigo with the orchestra. The first didn’t feel right but the second time we had relaxed and were thinking hard about what we were doing. The conductor was happy enough and allowed us to return to the hotel for dinner.

One thing that had stood out was how much better Joyce’s guitar sounded and I was determined to get a hand-made one for me to play. Before we left, I asked who would be able to sell me a good classical guitar, and was told that Senor Saintz, in Valencia, was one of the best around.

The hotel kindly found the right number and called him for me. He had very little English, and the receptionist kindly interpreted my request to him to have one of his guitars made for me. The answer was that he had heard about the concert and would be in the audience on Saturday. If he liked what he heard, I was told, he would deign to make me one, but it wasn’t cheap.

I told the receptionist to tell him that was good enough for me and gave him my own phone number should he want to speak to me. We had our dinner and went off to our rooms to luxuriate in a deep bubble bath.

On Saturday morning the reception gave us a guide to the sights, and we walked around the old city, which is glorious, stopping at the Cathedral where Christopher Columbus is laid to rest. We had lunch, and then were picked up to go to the concert hall.

Today we would be giving a matinee performance which, I was told, was usually filled with tourists and schoolchildren. The program was all Spanish, the first half was a short Albeniz piece followed by a longer Manuel de Falla one. There was a decent break and then we were led on after the orchestra had tuned, to play the Rodrigo. Our rendition was well received with some of the audience standing as we bowed and left the stage.

We changed out of the Spanish costume we had been given and prepared to go off somewhere for our usual light meal before an evening performance. As we left the dressing room we found the conductor with another gentleman, who had a guitar case in his hand. The conductor introduced us to Senor Saintz who had been in the audience this afternoon. The conductor had a grin on his face and Senor Saintz had a big smile as he greeted us. He told us that the performance had been wonderful and full of the proper fire.

“Senorita Grosse, I have here a guitar which I built some time ago for a gifted player who, unfortunately, did not come back for it, being the victim of a car crash. He was about your size, and I thought about it after your phone call yesterday.”

“But the receptionist said you didn’t speak English,” I said. “Yet here you are, possibly more fluent than me.”

He laughed. “That’s something that we use to gauge the person on the other end. You didn’t insist that I make you a guitar; you allowed the young girl to do her job, and you were kind enough to leave the final decision to me. I’ve dealt with many world class guitarists, and most would have insisted that I drop everything for them; often saying “Don’t you know who I am!””

“I don’t operate that way, Senor,” I said. “Bad manners lead to bad results. You look familiar and I think I may have seen your face recently.”

He nodded. “You are very observant Senorita. I was at your jazz show in Marseille with some friends, and we also went to the Stable Sisters show. It was an interesting experience to see the same group in two totally different styles but managing to present some of one in a performance of the other. You girls are wonderful to see and hear. This afternoon was no different. I can see why you want a custom-built instrument. You’re at that point in your guitar playing where you may move onto another plane. What you have now is one of the best but made on a production line. Please, let us go somewhere where you can test drive the one that I have with me.”

The conductor led us to a small rehearsal room, and I asked Joyce if she could go and get her new one. In the meantime, he opened the case, and I saw one of the most beautiful instruments I had seen. It was the standard classic shape with the classical fretboard but that’s where the similarities ended. The body was covered in fine inlay work and the frets looked as if they were different precious stone strips, rather than the usual plastic or bone. He handed it to me as I sat down, and I cradled it on my lap, immediately starting to play some Segovia.

It sounded, and felt, wonderful, and I was in love with it after the first chord. Joyce came back with hers, sat next to me. “Encore double?”

We started playing our encore piece that we hadn’t needed this afternoon. I closed my eyes and got lost in the sound of two custom guitars discussing music.

When we finished Senor Saintz had tears in his eyes. “Bravo, Senoritas, I thought I’d heard something good during the performance but that was something that makes my heart sing.”

“It makes my heartbeat faster, Senor,” I said. “Can I buy this one from you?”

He looked me in the eyes. “No, Senorita, it is not for sale.”

I went to hand it back to him. “Would you make me something similar, please?”

He chuckled. “I didn’t say it wasn’t yours, Senorita, I said it was not for sale. I will give you that guitar and only ask one thing.”

“And what is that?” I asked.

“At the end of the month you, and your other girls, will be playing at a jazz club in my hometown of Valencia. All I ask is that when you are there you bring your guitars along to that club on the Saturday afternoon. The manager is a friend of mine and will open for us. I’ll invite some friends of mine to join us, and we may have what you Americans call a “jam session” but playing classics and jazz.”

I put my hand out to shake on the deal and he took it and kissed it instead. He stood up. “I will leave you to get your meal. I will be in the audience tonight and am looking forward to hearing a performance of the Rodrigo that will go into the history books.” He kissed my hand again, took hold of Joyce’s and kissed it before leaving two stunned girls with guitars on their laps.

I put the guitar into the case after giving it a wipe over with a cloth that was already there. This was a guitar to be cherished. We went up to the stage area where Joyce put hers away carefully as well, and we left them for the evening show. As we were leaving there was several guys coming into the hall with cables and other stuff and Joyce said, “Looks like tonight will be recorded.” Both thinking the same thing we turned around and picked up our guitar cases and took them to the dressing room where we put them in a cupboard.

We went to the restaurant where we had been told we would eat and found the whole orchestra there. The conductor welcomed us and said that he hoped our visitor had been a welcome one.

I told him that he would hear the difference tonight when we played. Many of the orchestra had good English so we spoke to them, finding out that many would be in the audience when we played the jazz show here in town in a few weeks.

That evening the hall was packed. The performance was, I was told, not only being recorded but also going live on the local radio station. When we came on to the stage, we were both carrying our custom guitars, and I noticed a beaming Senor Saintz a couple of rows back.

As we moved into the Rodrigo, I could sense Joyce shifting up a notch and matching my new level of playing and it was so beautiful I was almost in tears when we finished. We stood and bowed as the audience came to their feet and then turned to acknowledge the conductor and the orchestra.

There was a need of an encore this time, so we sat, the audience quietened, and we played our double Segovia piece. It kept with the Spanish evening as it was Leyenda, also written by Albeniz. You could have heard a pin drop as we played the quieter central part, and I swear that several in the audience were turning blue from not breathing for the whole seven-minute piece. Then, as the last chord hung in the air, the audience were on their feet again.

There was no way we could top that, so we bowed, called the conductor forward who then got the orchestra to stand, and we all bowed a couple of times. He took us by our free hands and led us off the stage.

We stood in the wings as the orchestra walked past us, and then we put our guitars down. He led us back onto the stage for a final bow as a couple of sheaves of flowers were brought out to us. When we left the stage, we waved to the crowd to let them know we were not coming back, and then picked up our guitars to go to the dressing room.

Marianne Gregory © 2023