Sin City: Farewell My Life, #2

By Cynthia Haggard

Would you marry your beau, or have a career as a violinist?

 

Sin City is a Cinderella-ish tale with not-so-charming princes, who inhabit the edgy setting of 1920s Berlin.

When 17-year-old Grace Miller arrives in Berlin to study with the best violin teacher in the world, her future seems clear. She is going to be a concert artist, traveling from one European city to another, soloing with the best orchestras.

But she acquires two admirers: a promising diplomat specializing in Russia, and a German aristocrat.

What is going to happen when they propose marriage to her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spun Stories Press
• Release date: Oct 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215652077

Cynthia Haggard

As the child of a broken home, I have always been fascinated by the ebb and flow of family relationships. Which forces gather family members together within the bounds of an ancient shelter? Which forces slice through that shelter, so that a parting of ways makes those left behind feel as if they are standing in a tumble of bricks, enveloped by the jagged shards of a destroyed home. This is what I write about in my novels: THWARTED QUEEN—Welcome to 1400s England, where a family feud between the Yorks, Lancasters and Nevilles began the Wars of the Roses and inspired Game of Thrones. FAREWELL MY LIFE—Who is he? Who is this dark, handsome stranger who has become obsessed by 17-year-old Grace? Is he just the perfect accompanist for a Brahms sonata, or does he have other ideas? Welcome to a dark historical, set in early 20th century Washington DC and Berlin Germany, about a hidden murderer and how far he will go to control the women around him. Thwarted Queen won the IPPY Gold Medal for Audiobook Fiction May 2021. Farewell My Life won the Independent Press Award for Women’s Fiction April 2021 So who am I? I am a proud Englishwoman with American roots. Although I speak like the BBC, I have five relatives on that Mayflower! So I suppose it was not surprising that I eventually ended up here, in the United States, in the Mid-Atlantic region, where I spent all of my adult life, winding my way through four careers: violinist, cognitive scientist, medical writer, and novelist. I have spent more years in academic institutions that I care to share, but most recently, in June 2015, I graduated with an MFA in Creative Writing (Fiction) from Lesley University (located just north of Harvard Yard.) My biggest influence was my half-American grandmother, Stephanie Treffry, who had a natural story-telling ability. As a widow in 1970s Britain, Grandma Steffi didn't drive a car, so would spend time waiting for buses. Her stories were about various encounters she had at those bus-stops. Nothing extraordinary, except that she made them so funny, everyone was in fits of laughter. I try to emulate her when I write my novels. When I am not annoying everyone by dressing as if I live in the seventeenth century, I enjoy knitting, exercising, playing piano or cooking something in my wonderful kitchen.

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DEDICATION

Your dedication here.

TITLE PAGE

Sin City

Book 2

of

Farewell my Life

A Dark Historical about a Hidden Murderer...

Cynthia Sally Haggard

COPYRIGHT

Copyright © Cynthia Sally Haggard 2022

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this

E-book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical

means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without

written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations

in a book review.

This book may not be sold, copied, or plagiarized. Thank you for respecting

the hard work of this author.

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

All rights reserved

ISBN:979-8215652077

Enquiries: [e-mail]

Published by Cynthia Sally Haggard, Washington DC, USA

www.cynthiasallyhaggard.com

LCCN: TX 8-815-805

Edited by Catherine Adams, Inkslinger Editing

Image Retro Styled Makeup With Pearls by Ukrainian artist Subbotina Dreamstime 25452446.

Praise for Farewell My Life

A unique, deftly scripted, and extraordinary novel by an author with a distinctive narrative storytelling style that will hold the readers’ dedicated attention from beginning to end, Farewell My Life: Buona Notte Vita Mia is an impressive and unreservedly recommended addition to both community and academic library Contemporary Literary Fiction collections. One of those rare novels that will linger in the mind and memory long after the book itself has been finished.—Mid-West Book Review

The author knows her characters very, very well; this shows in the consistent and very individual way they act. This is not a plot-driven story; it’s character-driven. In this book, the characters are the jam which holds everything together. The best example of this is Grace, the talented violinist, who, simply, jumps off the page. I loved her.—Wishing Shelf

This is not your typical mystery; it’s for fans of thrilling action and historically­-inspired events…Contra to the status quo of the genre, the men are the romantics – though in a deranged manner – and the women showcased are the core strength of the novel.—BookLife Prize.

The author…adeptly summons the era in all its manners and details with her descriptive prose…Her omniscient, third-person narrator effectively flits through the heads of various characters, offering momentary glimpses of their inner lives.—Kirkus Reviews

DEDICATION

Dedicated to the memories of

Theodore William Ted Bogacz (1943–1992),

my first husband, who taught me much about

modernity, the Great War of 1914–1918, and shell shock,

and

Nannie Jamieson (1904–1990),

my violin teacher at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama in London, England

EPIGRAPH

It was the obscure sensation

of everything’s being suddenly turned the other way round,

so that one had to read it all backward if one wanted to understand.

It was a sensation devoid of any pain or astonishment.

It was simply something dark and looming,

and yet smooth and soundless,

coming…

LAUGHTER IN THE DARK, Vladimir Nabokov

One: Herr Professor Flesch

Hochschule Für Musik

Berlin, Germany

Wednesday, 18 January

Early Morning

Grace craned her neck as the taxi slowed to a stop outside a large beaux-arts building.

Fasanenstrasse, said the taxi driver.

Hochschule Für Musik? inquired Uncle William.

"Ja."

She got out and looked up. The building was three stories tall, with each wing defined by an impressive tower. Where did Professor Flesch hold his classes? Probably in one of those tower rooms with the high ceilings.

A sharp gust rattled old leaves and garbage. Using one hand to hold her collar up, Grace hurried behind Violet, Aunt Louisa, and Uncle William, clutching the handles of her violin case.

Professor Flesch was the most famous violin pedagogue in the world, and Professor Burneys had spoken with awe of his newly developed international school for violinists. The Vienna Academy of Music had wanted him, but he’d chosen Berlin instead. His violin academy was to rival the Paris Conservatoire.

Grace should be thrilled to be meeting the great man at last, but as she followed her relatives into the Hochschule, her courage failed. Why in the world would Professor Flesch be interested in taking her on as his student? Her repertoire was not extensive, her experience limited. Professor Burneys had never been able to provide her with chamber music lessons despite his efforts. Georgetown was just too small. Her heart squeezed, jolting uncomfortably in her chest.

A young woman met them in the entrance hall, then led them through a maze of corridors and up one flight of stairs. Grace had prepared three pieces to play from memory: the Brahms D Minor Sonata, the Rondo alla Turca from the Mozart A Major Concerto, and the Adagio from the Bach G Minor Sonata for unaccompanied violin. She’d practiced them faithfully every day for the past month, and now she was sure she couldn’t play them before the most demanding teacher in the world. She was bound to forget something. What then?

But the young woman led them into a room that had large windows on two walls. Grace looked around and took a deep breath. She must pull herself together. She must somehow convey to the great man how immeasurably she loved playing the violin.

A concert grand stood on a wooden dais, with a baby grand tucked nearby. Metal music stands and wooden chairs were strewn haphazardly across the large room. They were early, and no one was there. While Uncle William and Aunt Louisa went off to find someone to talk to, Violet tidied the room, arranging the chairs into neat rows and placing the music stands in one corner.

Grace walked around the periphery listening carefully. With the roar of the Berlin traffic muted to a distant hum by its thick walls, the room vibrated with a kind of hollow emptiness. Even her footsteps echoed on the wooden floor. There were no drapes, no carpet, nothing cushioned or soft that might muffle the sound. He would be able to hear everything.

Her shoulders drooped as she put her case down. She eased the thick mittens off her hands, massaging the fingers of her left hand to keep them warm and supple. She took the violin out of its case, closed her eyes, and tuned it, taking time to test the acoustics of the room. Settling the violin on her left shoulder, placing her chin in the chin-rest, she drew an arc in the air with her bow and began. The opening Adagio from the G Minor Sonata by Johann Sebastian Bach radiated across the room, with descending notes that flourished proudly from the monumental chords.

A thick silence resonated as she finished. Uncle William and Aunt Louisa stood in the doorway with a stocky man of middling size. He looked to be about fifty, with grey hair that grew well back from his forehead and eyes hidden behind thick eyeglasses. Something about him was intimidating, even unfriendly. Grace pressed her lips together.

Two: The Audition

Wednesday, 18 January

You must be Fräulein Miller, he said in excellent English. I am Herr Flesch.

Grace’s fingers squeezed the bow. How had she played? She couldn’t remember. Had she done justice to that glorious piece of music?

Flesch cracked a smile. Do not be nervous, Fräulein. You have talent. Did you bring a pianist with you?

Grace shook her head.

Flesch gestured, and a thin young man appeared. Herr Ritter will serve as your accompanist. Now, let us start. What have you brought for me to hear?

They played the Brahms D Minor Sonata. Herr Ritter was technically fluent. He played each note at exactly the right time. But her performance wilted under his uninspired playing. If only Mr. Russell had been there. How magnificently he’d accompanied her at Professor Burneys’s soirée, tossing off the cascades of notes that Brahms demanded of his pianists with virtuosic bravura, but without overpowering her violin line. By contrast, Herr Ritter was too loud, and she felt compelled to follow his ponderous too-slow playing, rather than recreate the piece in her quieter, suppler fashion.

When they reached the end of the piece, Flesch rose and came over.

May I see your left hand?

Grace held it up. Mr. Russell’s pearl and amethyst ring nestled on her heart finger.

Why have you come to Berlin to study with me if you are engaged to be married?

My niece is not engaged, remarked Aunt Louisa.

Flesch barely glanced at her. I want to hear from Fräulein Grace.

Mr. Russell is in America, studying at Georgetown University, said Grace tightly. I have not seen him since November—

How can you be serious about the violin if your thoughts are elsewhere? I only consider taking on students who are committed to their studies.

Prickles of ice jostled up her spine. I am serious about my studies. The violin means everything to me.

When do you plan to marry?

Violet leaned forward.

Grace’s cheeks warmed. I don’t―

But he cut her off. You see, Fräulein, you cannot have a career as a violinist if you have a husband and children to care for. As one of a large family myself, I have always felt that children are the ultimate purpose of marriage.

Grace had heard such sentiments before, usually propounded by smug individuals with yards of children. But what about those who’d never had children, like Aunt Paulina? Did that make her marriage to Uncle Luke invalid? And what about Mother, who’d cobbled together a life as a rich man’s mistress after the death of Father? Where did she fit in his scheme of things? Grace’s cheeks warmed.

If you are planning to marry soon, continued Flesch, then I cannot take you on.

A stab of anger made Grace lift her head and stare him full in the face. I am not planning to marry. I left America to come all this way to study with you. I only wore this ring for good luck. She wrenched Russell’s ring off her finger and threw it into the end compartment of the violin case, where she kept rosin and some extra strings. I will do anything to pursue my violin studies with you.

It was quite hopeless. He would never accept her now. He could easily have other students.

Good, said Flesch. Now we will talk about your playing. He went to the back of the room and conferred with two other professors. They must have come in while he was interrogating her.

Grace hung her head, her face growing hot.

Fräulein Miller. These gentlemen want to hear you play. I think we should start with the Bach.

She glanced at them, but their expressions told her nothing. They drew up chairs and sat down near the front of the room. Grace stood where they could see her, and began. The dark architectural structure of the G Minor Sonata unfolded in slow gestures. It was one of her favorite pieces, but her nerves jangled up the performance. She tried to steady them by breathing with the music, but her stomach gurgled. Beads of perspiration formed on her upper lip. She clenched her bow to stop it from shaking.

That is enough, Fräulein. Flesch held up his hand and then leaned over to talk to his colleagues. They spoke volubly with gestures, but Grace couldn’t tell whether they were saying good things or bad. We will hear the Mozart now, if you please.

She blinked. How