The atmosphere in the Budapest opera house really was lovely – and picturesque, too, with so many of the local lasses dressed up in smart frocks. The format of the evening was great, too: 40 minutes for Act 1; a 20-minute drinks break; 40 minutes more ballet; another round of drinks, and then the final act.
Having rather enjoyed thinking about the fate that might befall the young lady opposite, the interval provided more inspiration. An extremely pretty young woman was wrapped lovingly around her boyfriend; they sipped wine, then kissed tenderly, then kissed again. I pondered the conversation that might take place in her father’s office the following morning, when one of his colleagues arrived for work:
“It was lovely to see your daughter at the ballet last night. I would have said hello, but she seemed to enamoured of the young man who was escorting her. Such a lovely couple!”
Might he also mention his surprise at the wine? After all, whilst the boyfriend might have been of legal age to buy it, she was slightly younger. Maybe not for he had no desire to land her in any form of trouble – as he had already inadvertently done.
She’d panic when she returned home later, to see the freshly-cut switches on the dining room table. Her father would come straight to the point: he’d given her permission to go to the Opera House on a school night as a special treat with the other girls to mark one of their birthdays. Would she care to explain why she had lied to him – and where she had been between the 9.45pm end of the ballet (he’d checked) and her midnight return home?
He’d send her to his office. Would tell her strip, as he always did for the most severe of punishments, and to bend over his desk and wait for him. He’d leave her ten minutes. And then he’d whip her until she pleaded, until she sobbed, until she begged, until she fell silent. And then he’d order her to go to her room: “I’ll have your sister bring up some bread for you later.” And the next time he saw her, at breakfast the following morning, it would be as if the matter had never happened.
I loved the previous ‘review’ of the ballet but I must say I love this one even more! Perfect for pondering before bed after a very busy day. Thank you, Abel!