The Mandolin Lesson by Frances Taylor

There is a notice above the door warning passengers to lock the door in order to avoid being prey to robbers, but I am disinclined to lock the door. I don’t want to be locked in with a complete stranger.
    The night is uneventful, except that my sleep is disturbed by anxious thoughts. I feel responsible for putting myself at risk and yet I didn’t knowingly choose to travel alone with a stranger. It is unwise to say the least, but it is one of the disadvantages of travelling unaccompanied during the winter months. I am just thankful that it is morning and I am safe.
    *

    At my lesson, the scales lull me after my difficult night. The ones in sixths, octaves and broken thirds are especially calming. I manage them quite well. They were also my favourites whilst studying the violin.
    *

    My journey home is easier. There are more people in my carriage. My apprehension disappears. I relax and fall asleep.
    *

    In Paris, I awake with a migraine. This is so often the pattern. The attack begins not during a period of stress or tension, but afterwards in the calm that follows.
    I ache to be at home in my bed. I am so uncomfortable in the seats of the new Eurostar lounge at
Gare du Nord
. They are not designed for ill people. I wish that I lived in Italy so that I didn’t have this extensive journey to do. I begin to wonder about the wisdom of what I am doing. I am making enormous sacrifices for my art and at present I am not convinced that I have the strength to continue.

6

    I receive a postcard from Delhi. It says: ‘
Quando ci vediamo
?’ ‘When shall we see each other?’
    It is Ugo. He is in India touring with
I Solisti Veneti
.
    I do not know the answer to his question. I have successfully completed all my professional engagements, but now there are other complications. Ugo doesn’t return to Italy until halfway through February. At the end of the month, my son has his half-term holiday and I must, of course, be at home for that.
    It is at this point that I become aware of a huge difference between the English and Italian scholastic year. The Italians do not have the same arrangement of holidays that we do. At Christmas and Easter, we have long holidays of two or three weeks. My son’s holidays are always delayed by a week because he has to sing in services up until Christmas Day and Easter Day respectively. In Italy, there is only a short holiday of a few days for both these Christian festivals. In addition, the concept of a week’s half-term holiday three times a year just doesn’t exist. Naturally, being a Mediterranean country, Italy enjoys a long summer holiday of at least three months, whereas in England we have only six weeks. Our overall holiday time is probably about the same, it is just distributed differently.
    I suppose I had read about this somewhere in my study of Italian culture. At my Italian evening classes, we often receive articles to read about Italian life. Somehow these facts hadn’t registered with me and it is only now as I am trying to practically live part of my life in Italy that they are doing so.
    I am unable to book a train ticket in the few days I have available this month. It is unfortunate but cannot be helped. I don’t want to miss a month because a month is quite a long enough gap as it is. All the other students have lessons weekly. If I lived in Italy, I could have lessons weekly. But I don’t live in Italy, and I have just discovered that the course finishes for the summer on June 1 st . This means I will only be able to squeeze in another three, possibly four, visits. The course starts on November 1 st and finishes on June 1 st . The entire academic year for the mandolin course is only seven months. I am shocked that the course appears to be so short. It is going to be quite a challenge to fit in the requisite lessons. Our courses begin in September or October and complete in mid-July. It would be lovely if I could spend some nights in