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But she has had to eat her words since. Ax is now among the front rank of classical<br />
pianists in the world. As he has shown time and time again, he is fully capable of<br />
playing pianissimo. I, of course, was too shy to speak to him in the lift.<br />
Then there was Rosalyn Tureck, a more established pianist, who lived in the <strong>College</strong><br />
full-time. I think she was there by favour of Sir Isaiah. I clearly remember that Ms<br />
Tureck would sit by the river for hours at a time, like patience on a monument,<br />
smiling at grief. Or maybe she was simply going over the complete works of Bach<br />
in her head. At times she would permit me to do her a favour. I always gave her<br />
requests top priority and all my attention. She took my efforts in her stride. In the<br />
tradition of English butlers in the movies, I was honoured to be of service.<br />
In the end, the most important thing about my sojourn in Oxford came down to<br />
my gender. Almost every man of my age in Oxford at the time was either a student<br />
or a beginning tutor. Most of the women were either undergraduates, graduate<br />
students, or spouses of the same. The wives had the job of making life comfortable<br />
for their highly stressed husbands. This meant repeated visits to the Newcomers’<br />
Club, a wonderful place for foreigners who might have arrived in Oxford without<br />
so much as a pot or a fork to their names. I would frequent the place looking for<br />
domestic treasures of that or previous ages.<br />
It was a cold Thursday morning in November. The Newcomers’ Club was open to<br />
the public only once a week. I made a point of being on time – 11 o’clock sharp – in<br />
the hope of finding a Ming vase before anyone else saw it. That, of course, never<br />
happened, but hope springs eternal. As I got there, a tea shop was just opening<br />
for business. Uncharacteristically, I was tempted by a cuppa so I went over to the<br />
server. ‘Could I please have a cup of tea?’ I asked, with as much English polish as I<br />
was capable of mustering.<br />
The tea lady looked at me quizzically, visibly taken aback. She looked at me as if I<br />
had just asked her to return the Elgin Marbles to Greece. Then she walked over<br />
to her colleague and whispered something in her ear. More muttering followed.<br />
Finally she returned: ‘Well, we’ve never served a man before, but I suppose it’s all<br />
right.’ I could barely contain the laughter welling up inside me. ‘No, thanks, that’s<br />
quite all right’, I said in all seriousness. ‘I don’t think I’m cold any more.’<br />
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