‘No more than two hours, for fifteen people. After two hours we’ll have to open the windows.’ He had been wanting to announce a student assembly in the newspapers, but had not found a room large enough. I quickly put on my coat, and together we set off to visit the headmaster of the lycée.
The old man attempted to be nostalgic: I had first arrived there nine years ago, a small, shy boy, but look at me now: a university student! Did I still recognise my old headmaster, the parent of my adolescent soul? The doctoral student bit his lips in impatience. But what good was any of this now? A new, fruitful and dynamic life was beginning. Could he lend us a helping hand? Would he agree to let us use the music hall for our first few meetings?
‘For university students, naturally.’
The student thanked the headmaster briefly but warmly, then left, heading for the university, the newspapers, the dean’s office, the cafeteria.
On my way back, alone, with bitter memories of the headmaster in my soul, I encountered the first snowflakes of the season.
‘December.’
Two days later, my little windows were lit blue by the snow. In my room, it was cold and dark. I brought up loads of coal and wood, dusted white. Sitting by the stove I read, in disbelief, the announcement in the columns of Universitare: ‘Today, at five p.m., students of the university who wish to join the city choir are invited to enrol at the provisional headquarters in the attic of.’
I ran downstairs.
‘We’ll be having guests at five o’clock.’
‘How many?’
‘I’m not sure; twenty or thirty. But we’ll be holding auditions – some will be leaving almost as soon as they arrive.’
Mother did not believe that I would be having ‘guests’ until she met a girl asking for directions.
‘Excuse me, is there a attic here, some kind of provisional headquarters?’
As luck would have it, it was Bibi. The doctoral student had not yet arrived. I was nervous and wondered if it was warm enough, if the armchairs were comfortable, if the bookshelves were tidy. Bibi had not expected to see me or, even more so, to see me there all by myself.
‘Are you the only one here?’
‘Yes, I am … well, you see.’
‘Ah, so this is your attic.’
‘That’s right.’
An awkward silence.
‘You were working when I arrived; let me take something to read, something from here.’
She took a copy of Corydon. I blushed.
‘Is it any good?’
‘It’s interesting.’
‘A novel?’
‘No. Gide.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Haven’t you read anything by Gide?’
‘Yes I have. A textbook: The Political Economy.’
Charmed, I explained, ‘That’s by Charles Gide.’
‘Oh! Sorry! And this is by Andrei.’ She smiled, looking through the book.
‘I know somebody called Andrei, a polytechnic student. He skis.’
I nodded.
‘Yes, yes.’
I invited her to sit down in an armchair between the bookcases.
‘Don’t you get bored up here all alone?’
I lied, presumptuously.
‘I wouldn’t say I’m alone, exactly.’
She took a long look at me.
‘That’s strange; you don’t look like someone in love.’
Pale, very pale.
I was saved by the doctoral student; he entered without a word, with a bag, damp from melted snowflakes, his forehead red from the cold.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to the young lady?’
How was I supposed to introduce her by her nickname, Bibi? But she introduced herself. I made a mental note of her name.
Within half an hour, the attic was full of students. The provisional committee assembled at the table. I recognised a few of them. Two from the Polytechnic: a second-lieutenant in his final year at medical school, and a stooped, skinny young man, who smoked copiously and weighed his words carefully. The others were strangers. There were only a few girls; they sat on chairs and the bed. We listened to what the chairman had to say.
He was not a gifted orator. He struggled to find the right words, but when he did find them, he delivered them resoundingly. He reminded us of the old gentleman’s donation. But the association did not yet exist. It would have to be established as soon as possible. The choir and the festival would bring in funds. We would sing carols for government ministers, for the dean of the university, at the royal palace. The association would have to be officially registered. That way, we would be able to receive donations. At the same time, we had to foster ‘the student life’.
My guests were inspired. They promised help, work, with enthusiasm.
‘And discipline’, added the chairman.
A young man with black hair was appointed choirmaster. Flattered, he asked to hear everyone’s voice. The girls protested.
‘We’ve been singing since lycée.’
The boys teased, ‘Then it’s been a long while, hasn’t it.’
A pale, quiet girl capitulated.
‘Do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, ti!’
A tall, swarthy, thick-lipped student, who stood leaning against the door, opined: ‘She’s a tenor.’
Laughter. The girl turned red, and shrank back apologetically. The chairman interjected, ‘Gentlemen, you promised.’
A young woman, with dark, sunken eyes, moist lips, and trembling nostrils spoke up. She had wavy, neck-length black hair and her arms were bared to the shoulder.
‘Chairman, sir, they should go first!’
The boys protested, suddenly nervous.
‘Ladies first.’
‘The boldest first’, replied a blond girl.
Amid this hubbub, I took a look around my attic: Cigarette smoke, the smell of women’s clothing, shadows. The bookshelves paid silent witness.
Above the headboard of my bed, the dried willow garland around an icon shed its dry leaves. I felt so happy and such a stranger!
The chairman’s ruling solved the dilemma: ‘The girls will sing scales, and the gentlemen will go downstairs and wait in the courtyard for a few minutes. Make sure not to break any windows!’
I could hear them plotting.
‘But we’ll catch cold.’
The girls agreed to go first, but only if the boys promised to behave themselves. The young lady with the dark eyes gave a perfect, defiant rendition of the scale.
‘Your name and faculty?’
‘Nonora – Law, and the Conservatory.’
The boys ‘Aha!’
Two days later, rehearsals began. The young women one afternoon, and the young men the next. This arrangement was not to the liking of the men. They arrived late, smoked, and ignored the chairman. It was decided to hold joint practice sessions. The men arrived half an hour