A New Job¹

Pierre had got up a lot earlier than usual. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, his eyes still puffy with sleep, he made a worried examination of his face as he skilfully drew the razor over his stretched skin. Today the worry that had gnawed at him ever since he had applied for the job of 1st horn at the philharmonic orchestra in the capital city had reached its peak.

Once again he ran through everything: set off in plenty of time, find a place to park, don’t be overawed by the other candidates. Make a show. Hold out. He smiled to himself.

Are you crazy to go and compete with all those kids who have nothing to lose?

After he finished studying, Pierre had got the 2nd horn job, which he still held, in this little provincial orchestra. As the years passed, he acquired the skill and experience of a real orchestral musician but eventually he got bored and, although he got on with his colleagues, he felt no friendship towards them. It was ‘‘Hi’’, ‘‘Hello’’, sometimes an exchange of banalities, and everyone played his own part.

It is true that in some other orchestral sections the players were friends. Pierre often thought of this with envy. He knew that in such cases people who played the same instrument met between duty sessions to match their style, work on intonation, polish tricky passages or play chamber music just for pleasure.

There was nothing like that in his present situation. Total boredom. He had not realised the mediocrity of this situation immediately because he had met Jacqueline; they had had several marvellous years together and had three splendid children. They had a flat in a residential part of town. His salary, together with the jobs he did on the side and a few lessons, enabled them to live comfortably. And the years passed…