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‘Oh, he was. Shame I didn’t realise that before I married him.’
Larry laughed. ‘I hope you’ve divorced him.’
‘Of course.’ Although, not before he’d almost bankrupted her. ‘Do you still play in bands now?’
He shook his head. ‘Not since my wife died and I was diagnosed with macular degeneration. I don’t see so good these days.’
‘I’m sorry. It doesn’t seem to have affected your playing.’
‘I can still mess around with a few tunes.’ He lifted his hands from the keys. ‘Your turn.’
Kate shifted away. ‘Oh, I couldn’t. I’m not in your league.’
‘Music isn’t a competition, it’s about expressing yourself. Show me who you are.’ He nodded for her to play something.
Who she was? Well, that was a darned good question. Sadly, she had no idea these days – she was still figuring that one out. But despite her reservations, she found herself tempted. It had been weeks since she’d last played and she missed having a creative outlet for her anxiety.
And besides, there was no one else in the room. It was just her and Lucky Larry, an ally if ever there was one.
Tentatively, she rested her hands on the keys and took a deep breath. He’d asked her to show him who she was, so she began playing the opening bars of ‘Someone You Loved’, not expecting him to recognise it, but he surprised her by saying, ‘Lewis Capaldi? Nice choice.’
Smiling, her fingers loosened, as she relaxed into the song.
He watched her play. ‘You have good technique… Relax your shoulders… Lower your elbows… Nice.’ And then he began to sing. A soft hum at first, before finding his place in the song and joining in with the lyrics.
His deep voice calmed her further, and she was able to let go a little and feel her way into the music, becoming bolder, less self-conscious.
She hadn’t been aware of Calvin entering the room until she glanced up and saw him standing by the doorway. Crikey, how long had he been standing there? She immediately stopped playing, her hands retracting from the keys as if she’d been electrocuted.
‘Don’t stop,’ he said, coming over. ‘That was amazing.’
There was no way she could continue – the moment was gone. ‘I should get back to work,’ she said, hastily getting up from the piano. ‘I have a lot to do.’
‘You’re allowed a break,’ he said, looking concerned. ‘Don’t stop because you think you have to. I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
‘You didn’t. I was just… you know, messing around.’ She could feel her cheeks growing warm. ‘Like I said, I should be working. It was lovely to meet you, Larry.’
‘The pleasure was all mine.’ He gave her an informal salute. ‘Anytime you fancy a jam, you let me know. It’ll be nice to have a fellow musician to play with.’
‘Thanks… but I couldn’t… I mean, I’m not good enough. Thanks for the tips. I’d better get back to the library. Bye!’ She almost ran from the room, her relaxed state blown into a flurry of embarrassment.
She hated anyone seeing her play, especially someone like Calvin. Someone who’d been so successful. But then she remembered his life wasn’t quite as charmed as she’d first imagined. He’d suffered his fair share of loss recently and her annoyance at being interrupted softened a fraction.
It was ten minutes before Calvin’s head appeared around the library door. She wasn’t surprised; she knew it would only be a matter of time before he appeared, but at least he’d given her a few moments’ respite.
‘Okay to come in?’ His apprehensive tone indicated he knew she was upset, but he wasn’t sure whether it was his fault.
He hadn’t done anything wrong. Her own hang-ups were the problem, not his. ‘Of course,’ she said, forcing a smile.
‘You’re musical, then?’ He was wearing an orange hoodie with a logo she didn’t recognise. It was a colour most people couldn’t get away with wearing, but against his darker skin tone, it looked great.
‘Nothing like Larry,’ she said, with a self-conscious shrug. ‘He’s lived quite the life, hasn’t he?’
Calvin came over to the desk. ‘Did he tell you he played for Smokey Robinson?’
‘Really? I never even made it to the school band.’
Calvin smiled. ‘Did you try?’
