Free Out of Tune by Margaret Helfgott Page A

neither had nor sought many playmates. Life essentially revolved around one thing: the piano. It was practice, practice,
     practice. He wanted to begin playing as early as four a.m., although Dad would not let him.
    By now my father and mother, rather than pushing or coaxing my brother toward more playing, were becoming concerned that David
     did not have enough other interests or social contact outside the family. He had the odd friend here and there, but not many.
     Dad tried to encourage him to develop a closer friendship with a boy who lived down the road, called Boris. David played tennis
     with Boris on a couple of occasions, but after a while, rather than turning up for meetings with his friend, David was back
     at his beloved piano, mastering Balakirev’s “Islamey” or some other fiendishly difficult work.
    When, at the age of fifteen, I temporarily lost my enthusiasm for playing the piano, I took up classical and modern ballet,
     and later acting, squash, jazz piano, and yoga. David, on the other hand, spent what spare time he had on his own. He loved
     reading science books. One of his favorites was Fred Hoyle’s
Astronomy
, which had extraordinary pictures of galaxies. When David was interviewed on the radio and asked what he wanted to be when
     he grew up, he said a concert pianist or a conductor. But failing that, he said, his third choice was to be an astronomer.
    Insofar as there was life for David away from the piano, it was mainly with myself, my brother, and my sisters. We all loved
     playing table tennis and were very good at it. Our brown table tennis table traveled with us on the boat from Melbourne, and
     together with the Rönish piano, it remained our most treasured family possession. Now battered and old, it is, like the piano,
     still being used by Leslie and his family in Perth.
    David’s hands, so brilliant on the piano keys, were almost as skillful at table tennis. He favored the grip used by the Chinese,
     wrapping his thumb and index finger around the handle. Rallies with him were always a challenge. He could put a vicious spin
     on the ball and, given half a chance, would smash it extremely hard at his opponent, leaving me panting for breath as I raced
     from side to side trying to return his shots.
    Meanwhile, David’s behavior continued to grow stranger. For example, he became absolutely obsessive about germs. He would
     refuse to touch taps or sink areas, even at home. When he went to the bathroom he would pry the tap open with a fork, and
     then, after he had washed his hands, he would take even greater care to close it without touching it, petrified that he might
     pick up fresh germs.
    In spite of the tension caused by David’s sometimes unpleasant behavior toward us, we still managed to go on enjoyable family
     outings during this period. We often took the train to the port of Fremantle, twelve miles south of Perth, which is where
     the Swan River flows into the Indian Ocean. We did not only go to “Freo”—as it is affectionately known by locals—just to have
     a pleasant picnic. On scorching summer days temperatures could rise to 100 degrees Fahrenheit in Perth, and the special breeze
     down in the port, known as the “Fremantle Doctor,” provided some welcome relief. All of us, David included, used to love these
     trips. We either brought our own lunch—hard-boiled eggs, salad, fruit, bread and butter, a thermos of coffee, and fruit juice—or
     Mom and Dad would treat us to fish and chips at the Fisherman’s Wharf, which was owned by Italian immigrants who went out
     twice daily to bring back fresh catches.
    While eating, the seagulls would surround us and screech away in their inimitable manner, loudly demanding a share of the
     meal. We soon learned not to be too generous in giving away the scraps—unless we wanted to be bombarded by another hundred
     hungry seagulls within a matter of seconds.
    After lunch my parents would lie together on the blanket we brought