As the orchestra took their places I felt apprehensive. The world was out in force to hear Jackie and I realised, for the first time, I didn’t feel secure about her. Jackie appeared, her cello held high in front of her and, as she ran up the steps on to the platform, the audience burst into frenzied applause. She looked happy and relaxed as she beamed at the crowd. There was absolute silence as she slipped into her deep concentration. Then, with a characteristic backward flip of her head, she raised her right arm and swung the bow across the strings for the opening chords. The sound rose from the cello and swept across the hall, penetrating every soul. But the first two leaps were much slower than usual: the orchestra was unprepared and immediately sped ahead of her. I froze. Zubin crouched, his arms braced as he tried to pull the orchestra back. There was an uneasy balance between the orchestra and Jackie as they continued out of stride which each other for a few awkward notes. She was exaggerating far more than usual and over-emphasising the glissandi. She was struggling to find herself. That commanding voice, which had once spoken so directly to my heart, and had ruled my emotions with such power and authority, was now floundering desperately and grappling to take control. Gran had my hand in a vice-like grip, and I didn’t dare glance at her or Kiffer in case they acknowledged my fears. My concentration was intense, I stared straight ahead, until the stage faded to a blur. Suddenly I could see Jackie’s picture of Elgar, and hear her telling me how his face had always troubled her. ‘He had a miserable life, Hil,’ she said, ‘and he was ill, yet through it all he had a radiant soul, and that’s what I feel in his music.’ The audience hardly made a sound at the end of the first movement. I took a deep breath as the voice in my head was saying, ‘Come on, Jacks, come on.’ I thought I would snap with the tension within me. Gran let go of my hand, but still I didn’t dare turn and look at her. At first I couldn’t identify my unease but gradually I realised that Jackie was telling us something that was too much for us to understand or bear. There had always been hope in this music and in her playing but now all the joy had gone. I was witnessing a crucifixion. In a solemn and final reckoning, all I could hear was my sister’s farewell. That night’s performance was a heavy burden. To me, the message was unmistakable. But no one wanted to hear it. << less