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Performances of Scriabin’s “Le Poème de l’extase” have always been extremely rare. Madeleine listened enraptured to the solo trumpeter. He had a gorgeous tone and immaculate timing, obviously helped by a good ear. He was a natural.

She admired the way his long fingers danced on the valves of the instrument and imagined those same fingers playing on her breasts. She admired his lean, athletic figure and his smart attire. The brass buttons of his navy blazer caught the spotlight and seemed to twinkle at her. She had to have him!

As an old hand at such concerts, Madeleine was able to hustle herself backstage after the trumpeter’s performance. As soloist, his services for the main piece (a sugary Mozart symphony) were not required. She found him and collared him immediately, thrusting a tired business card into his clammy hand.

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