Chapter 8

In hindsight, I'm sure that the Laura episode marked the beginning of my change of attitude toward Tori. I'd never seen her so rapacious. Of course, she was usually aggressive with me, but I guess that I'd never thought that aggressiveness would extend to her dealings with other people, especially other women.

Up until that time, Tori and I had been living together like a couple of lusty kids. A lot of our time at home was spent in bed. When we were in public, she was openly affectionate toward me, often snuggled against me, holding my hand or putting her arm around me. It had always seemed cute to me, but suddenly I started to find it bothersome. I grew more distant, at home as well as in public. Of course, Tori noticed immediately. One evening at supper, she asked what was going on.

"Pat, what's wrong? You're acting very strange lately."

"I honestly don't know," I said truthfully, "there's something bothering me, but I can't put my finger on it."

"Well let me know when you figure it out. Now, do you want dessert, or do you want to fuck?"

That was typical of Tori. Sex was her answer to just about anything. Come to think of it, I'd had pretty much the same attitude. Perhaps if I joined in her fun and games, things would be OK again. If only life were so simple.

In fact, events were about to unfold which would change our lives.

Tori had been with the National Arts Centre Orchestra for nearly an entire concert season. The conductor and the other members of the orchestra were more than pleased with her playing. However, she was replacing a woman who was on maternity leave. Canada has very strict maternity leave laws. According to the law, the original second oboe player had first right to the job. To everyone's surprise, she announced that she would return to the orchestra, perhaps in time for the spring tour. It appeared that Tori would be out of a job. She'd burned her bridges in Kitchener-Waterloo, assuming, as had Marion Benjamin, that the NACO job would be hers. It wasn't.

Tori became even more withdrawn than I was. It was obvious that she was depressed about the situation. Then one evening after supper she was leafing through the International Musician, the musicians' union newspaper, while I was at my desk preparing for the next day's show.

"Son of a bitch," she exclaimed, "I'll be goddamed!"

"What? What's happened?"

"Look at this!"

She was looking at the "Classifieds" section at the back of the paper. She brought the paper over to my desk, laid it down and pointed at a page.

"What, the United States Air Force Band? I had no idea you wanted to enlist."

"No, goddam it. The one under that one."

I looked at the ad. It read: "The Edmonton Symphony Orchestra announces vacancies at the following positions: principal oboe, section second violin, third horn." The ad went on with salaries offered and so forth.

"Principal fucking oboe! Do you see that? And that's a damned good band -- maybe not as good as NACO, but even if I had a job here, it would be second, not principal. Do you think I might have a crack at this?"

"Why not? Anyway, what have you got to lose?"

"Not a goddamed thing. Of course some of these things are decided before they're posted. They just advertise them because it's required by the union agreement. But one of my best friends, Shelagh, my roommate at Curtis, plays in the ESO. She'll know if it's for real. I'll give her a call."

Tori went into the study and called Shelagh. She spent a long time on the phone. Tori was quite animated, squealing away happily. She finally hung up and bounced back into the library.

"It's real," she squealed, "according to Shelagh, they haven't anybody in mind at all. Their principal oboe was in a bad car accident." She sobered suddenly. "Of course, I don't want to sound like I'm glad he got hurt, but, all the same, it's an opportunity for me. What do you think?"

"Like I said before, what have you got to lose?"

The next day, Tori called the Edmonton Symphony and sent in her application and curriculum vitae. Within a few days, she received a letter giving her the date and time of the first round of auditions plus the expected repertoire. When she opened the letter, she danced around the house. That night, she fucked my brains out, just like the old Tori.

For the next couple of weeks, Tori was her old self. The only thing that was different was that she practiced her oboe more often. The audition was to be on a Friday. Tori flew to Edmonton on Thursday morning so that she'd be fresh the next day. Friday evening, I was just about to go home when my office phone rang.

Tori squealed loudly into my ear, "Pat! Guess what?"

I smiled. The "what" was obvious from her tone, but I thought that I might as well play along. "You're pregnant?"

"No, you silly bastard. I made it through the first round! I'm on the short list! I made it even though I've never had a principal job before. What do you think? Isn't that fucking great?"

"To tell you the truth, I have mixed feelings about it."

"Yeah," she said soberly, "if I got the job, I'd have to move out here. It's not only the orchestra position, there's a teaching job at the university that goes along with it. It'd be a great opportunity, but..."

"Yeah. Our relationship would go in the shitter. It's about a four-hour plane ride from Ottawa to Edmonton. Long-distance relationships don't work, especially over that distance."

"Well I probably won't get the fucking job anyway. There's at least one other candidate who already has a principal oboe job. He's with the Hamilton Phil, but that's several rungs below the ESO. But I'm not gonna worry about the next round right now. Tonight I'm gonna celebrate this round. I plan to party with my old classmate who's in the first violin section here. Shelagh and I are going to paint the town red, or maybe not red -- maybe a shade of shocking pink."

I smiled, wondering if Edmonton was ready for Tori. "OK. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"I would, but I can't think of anything you wouldn't do. I'll see you tomorrow night, Patty-poo."

When Tori returned from Edmonton, she applied herself to her instrument relentlessly. She practiced for hours every day, regardless of what else she had to do. I began to understand why she was such a fine oboist. Talent was obviously only part of the picture. I'd had no idea that she was capable of such application. Obviously, I didn't know her as well as I'd assumed.

The day of the final audition approached. Tori showed little nervousness, in fact none that I could detect. I drove her to the airport, and she was off to Edmonton.

The next few days, I waited for the news. If Tori wasn't nervous, I sure as hell was. Finally, I got the call from Edmonton.

"I got it! I got the fucking job! Or at least I've got it on a sort of trial basis. That's because I've never held a principal's job. They want me to play the last few concerts of their season. If I do well, the job is mine. Tell me you're happy for me."

"I'm very happy for you, little love. But Benjy's gonna shit when he hears about this. What'll he do for a second oboe for the rest of the season?"

"Fuck him! Shit, I don't mean that. Marion has been really sweet to me. In fact, I'm sure that I could have fucked him, if I'd wanted to. I haven't done it, but I'll admit that the thought has crossed my mind."

I grinned. "Doll, is there any member of the human species that you haven't considered fucking?"

"A few, believe it or not. Seriously, I'm sorry to leave Marion and the band in the lurch, but this is my big chance. This is a real job, and I don't have one of those in Ottawa. Or anywhere else. And to be honest, I never thought that I'd get to be principal in a major orchestra before I was 30. Shit, I'm not even 27 until July! And Edmonton, believe it or not, is a great city. More than that, it has the best sounding concert hall in the country."

Tori came home. She spent most of the next couple of weeks making arrangements to go to Edmonton. Her colleagues in the orchestra were all very happy for her. They gave her a big going away party. Marion Benjamin was clearly not terribly pleased at her leaving, but there was nothing he could do about it. At the party, he gave a toast. He talked about Tori's meteoric rise in the orchestral world, and he predicted great things for her. Sometimes the guy showed real class.

The plan was that Tori would leave for Edmonton on Sunday. She'd have to be there for rehearsals. I would fly to Edmonton the following Friday to hear her first concert with the orchestra. The concert would be repeated on both Friday and Saturday nights. I'd have to fly back to Ottawa on Sunday and immediately turn around to go to Toronto. Tori would stay in Edmonton. She'd be there at least a month. After that, we'd know if she'd be moving permanently.

The evening of Tori's debut concert arrived. I flew in, dumped my bags at the hotel, and went to the concert hall. I took my seat and looked at the programme. There was a guest conductor, Jean-Paul Songe-Creux from the Toronto Symphony. The concert opened with Rossini's overture to La Scala di Seta, an opera I'd never heard of. The reason for playing this overture was soon apparent. There was an oboe solo that sounded really scary. It was incredibly fast and jumped all over the place. Tori played it as though it were nothing. She got a standing ovation.

I was feeling great. Then I looked at the programme to see what was next. Shit. It was the Third Piano Concerto by F. Morris Stewart, one of my least favourite people. And he was also the soloist. So Morry Stewart, that stuffy motherfucker, was in town. I knew him through mutual friends, especially Marion Benjamin. Morry had been at Benjy's parties many times. And then the crazy bastard had actually run for parliament. I'd had to cover his campaign, since he was something of a celebrity. I'd wanted to play it for laughs, but I didn't dare. Turned out that the silly son of a bitch actually came in second. I suspect that he was more surprised than anyone. At least he should have been.

I'd always considered Stewart to be a stuffed shirt -- no, make that an asshole and a stuffed shirt. Much too full of himself. It was obvious that he thought he was the world's greatest composer, the world's best pianist and much more intelligent than the rest of us poor mortals. Maybe I could avoid him. I resolved to try.

I grudgingly had to admit that Morry's concerto wasn't bad, at least to my ear. It wasn't nearly as dissonant as a lot of that modern crap. I even had to admit that he played pretty well. More important, Tori played the oboe solos incredibly well. The concert ended with Brahms' Fourth Symphony. Tori played her ass off in that as well.

After the concert, Tori introduced me to her violinist friend Shelagh. Shelagh was a petite demure-looking redhead with metal-framed glasses.

We were staying at the Westin Hotel. It was right next to the Winspear Centre, the Edmonton Symphony's concert hall. In fact, you didn't have to go outdoors to get to the hotel. You just went down the stairs, walked through the subway station and the parking garage, and you were in the hotel. That was why the ESO put its guest artists at the Westin. Shelagh accompanied us back to the hotel. The plan was to have a late supper there and unwind a bit.

The girls went upstairs to leave their instruments in the suite. The plan was that they'd meet me in the restaurant. I didn't expect it to be busy at that time of night, but, as it turned out, I was damned glad that I'd called ahead. Edmonton gets a lot of business from First Nations groups, especially from the arctic. There was a convention of aboriginal businessmen at the hotel, and the place was packed. Obviously, all these guys were on expense accounts and were partying it up.

Since I'd reserved ahead, I got a great table. It was one of those big round things in a corner. The ladies joined me. We'd just gotten our drinks and we were chatting away happily when Tori looked up and said, "Oh look, there's Morry Stewart."