At the concert, Luke
managed to get through the piece without too many mistakes. Even to Esmé’s jaundiced ear, his playing
sounded better than it had that morning in their house. The audience, mostly music students and their
friends, well aware just how hard it is to play the French horn, applauded him
warmly.
Afterwards, she,
Luke and Keith went to the pub down the road.
They took a table on the pavement and ordered coffee. Esmé had introduced the two men directly
after the concert and had watched with increasing dismay as they circled to
each other like two toms. The two people
most important to her simply had to be friends.
Almost as if they sensed her feelings, they both made an effort at the
café, and became more relaxed.
“I work at The Lord Grey,” offered Keith.
“Yes, I think I’ve
seen you there a few times.”
“I’ve prolly seyn
ya too, but there are so many customers.
Unless you’re a regular …” Keith
apologised.
“No problem. I don’t go there that often.” But Luke looked disappointed. He found Keith nice-looking, and rather
sexy. But then he found almost all men
attractive.
Keith glanced
quickly at Luke and then smiled, “Bit of a hot-house really, isn’t it? All those precious flowers. And everybody trying to find Mr Right and in
the end settling for Mr Right Now.”
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