The Piano Man Project (25 page)

She pushed him back into the kitchen with both hands and offered up a silent prayer.

Alarm bells went off in Honey’s head when she glanced up from pricing a stack of shirts to see Nell and Tash advancing towards her across the shop floor. One or the other of them during the working day was a welcome sight, but both of them together usually meant trouble.

‘Hey you guys,’ she smiled. ‘Lunch break ambush?’

‘I’d prefer to think of it as a friendly pep talk,’ Nell said, as smoothly as only a teacher used to fractious parents knew how to be.

Tash pulled her phone out of her huge handbag and pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head. Clicking through it quickly, she twisted the screen towards Honey, who looked at it and then glanced away again quickly.

‘Ew. Is that Yusef?’

‘Nope.’ Tash shook her head and grinned. ‘It’s your lunch date for Saturday. I told you he was hot.’

‘So hot he needed to take off all his clothes?’

‘What?’ Tash frowned and whipped the phone back, then grinned, thoroughly unabashed.

‘Ha! Sorry, Hon. No, that’s Yusef. What a horse, eh?’

She clicked through a couple of shots and turned the phone around again.

‘Christian.’

Honey looked down again into a profile shot of an admittedly good-looking guy, this time thankfully fully dressed.

‘Couldn’t get a better shot without him noticing,’ Tash said. ‘See what I mean now? He’s even better in the flesh. All blue eyes and yes ma’am, no ma’am. Honestly, it was like talking to Elvis without the rhinestones.’

‘Tash, it isn’t that I’m not grateful, but I just have so much going on right now, you know?’

Nell glanced at Tash with I told-you-so eyes. ‘It’s only lunch,’ she said. ‘One little lunch. Everyone needs to eat, Honeysuckle.’

‘Not with random men who sound like Elvis, they don’t,’ Honey said.

Tash’s green eyes flashed with determination. ‘What would you be doing otherwise? Mooning after your Emo neighbour?’

‘No,’ Honey scowled, not willing to elaborate on how badly wrong things had turned out with Hal on that front. ‘Meeting you two in the café, probably.’

‘I’m busy on Saturday,’ Nell said quickly. ‘Me too,’ Tash smirked, and they both looked at her expectantly.

She was saved from having to say anything more by the wail of a siren outside.

All three women spilled out onto the grass outside the shop, along with a rag-tag line of shoppers trailing behind them. Billy brought up the rear wearing a frilly pinny, having sportingly offered to fix a leaking tap in the staffroom.

‘Oh my God! What’s happened?’ Honey set off at a sprint at the sight of the ambulance with its flashing blue lights pulled up beside today’s protesters, Lucille and Mimi, along with at least six people Honey didn’t recognise. A strange thing had started to happen since Titania’s twin nieces and their provocative t-shirts had been splashed across the local news; people from all over town were coming to help, three, four or five different strangers every day to boost the protest numbers. It was turning into a story that people were following with interest, and the press were more than happy to oblige.

‘Give us some room please,’ the paramedic called out, shouldering his way across the pavement to where Mimi sat on a stool someone had fetched for her from inside the home. Still chained to the railings by one wrist, she huffed and puffed about being the centre of attention for all the wrong reasons.

‘All this fuss over nothing. It’s just a sprained ankle,’ she grumbled.

Honey was torn between relief that it wasn’t something more major and concern for Mimi, because even a sprain could be nasty and Mimi was no spring chicken.

Honey rubbed Mimi’s shoulder affectionately. ‘Let them take a look at it, hopefully it’s fine. What happened?’

Mimi glowered and pursed her lips. ‘Did you know Lucille had been to see Ernie?’

‘Oh,’ Honey said. ‘Well, yes. It wasn’t my place to say anything, Mimi, I’m sorry. She’s told you, then.’

‘Just now. She waits until I’m chained to the fence and then blurts it out, just like that.’

‘Right … and how did that end up with your ankle being sprained?’

Mimi sighed and looked into the distance. ‘I might have lunged for her arm. I’d have reached her too, if it wasn’t for this.’ She rattled the fluffy handcuff viciously.

‘Where’s Lucille now?’ Honey scanned the pavement as the paramedic rotated Mimi’s ankle, making her wince and slap his shoulder.

‘Hiding from me, if she’s got any sense,’ Mimi muttered darkly. ‘We’d agreed not to see him. Why did she do it, Honey?’

Still rubbing Mimi’s shoulder, Honey sighed and tried to choose her words carefully. ‘It wasn’t something she did lightly, Mimi. I don’t think she could help herself.’

Mimi shook her head. ‘She’s got me. She doesn’t need him.’

Honey wanted to hug and shake Mimi all at the same time. ‘There really isn’t any need to make her choose, Mimi. You know Lucille loves you, and nothing will ever change that. Not husbands, or friends,’ Honey glanced at Billy, who’d thrown off his frilly apron and had hunkered down on Mimi’s other side, ‘nor brothers. But he’s so like you, Mimi. It took my breath away.’

A tear rolled down Mimi’s cheek, and the paramedic looked up, concerned.

‘Is that painful?’ he asked, pressing carefully in case he made her cry more. Mimi shook her head and dashed away the tear.

‘Okay, I think you’ve slightly sprained it,’ the paramedic said, placing Mimi’s ankle to the floor. ‘Try to go easy on it over the next couple of days, and remember to elevate it when you’re resting. Use an ice pack if it’s painful, and your usual preferred painkiller if it’s playing up, okay?’ He looked at Mimi with kind eyes. ‘I think it’d be for the best if you unchained yourself and took a couple of days off.’

Honey expected Mimi to refuse, but the older woman just nodded instead and fished a key out of the pocket of her cardigan, looking thoroughly dejected.

‘Let me help you,’ Honey said, unnerved by Mimi’s capitulation. Passing the shop keys to Billy she unfastened Mimi’s cuffs gently, massaging her wrist as she helped her to stand. Over the years, Honey had never needed to acknowledge the age difference in her friendship with Lucille and Mimi. Not so today. Mimi leaned heavily on her arm as they made their way slowly back up the path towards the home, oblivious to the cameras flashing behind them, or to Christopher appearing on the pavement to deliver an oily speech about cancelling the protest on health and safety grounds.

‘Well that’s that, then,’ Mimi said, resigned, so quietly Honey barely heard her. ‘I’ll go to my room please, Honey. I’m tired, and I need to lie down.’

Honey clicked Mimi’s door closed and headed instinctively for the kitchen. Her life suddenly felt as if it was bursting all of its dams; Tash and Nell trying to railroad her into yet more dating disasters, Mimi and Lucille at each other’s throats, the campaign to save the home in peril, and now Hal in the kitchen with Skinny Steve. Passing through the dining room, she came to a sudden halt and stared around her. It looked different, and it smelled delicious, as if she’d walked into a restaurant from the street.

The clock on the wall told her it was a little after two, and the array of food laid out told her that there was going to be a party soon. She could have cried with relief at the sight of tables pushed together under the window to form a buffet bar, neat white cloths covering the joins. The dining room door swung open from the kitchen and Lucille appeared, laden down with a covered platter of cheese and onion rolls.

‘Old Don’s favourite,’ she smiled weakly as she made room for them on the table. ‘How’s Mimi?’

‘She’s not too bad. The paramedic said it’s a mild sprain. I’ve just left her resting in her room.’

Lucille shook her head. ‘I should never have told her like that when she was chained up. I just thought it might be easier.’

‘Maybe you should go and have a chat now everything’s quietened down. It looks as if everything’s under control here.’

Lucille smiled, properly this time. ‘That man in there is marvellous,’ she sighed like a teenager, her hand fluttering near the neck of her spring green floral dress. ‘So charismatic.’

Another victim of the Benedict Hallam peculiar school of charm. ‘Go and see Mimi.’

As Lucille left through one door, Skinny Steve appeared from the kitchen with a large, ornate cake, and a heavy one too if the way his slight frame swaying with effort was anything to go by.

His face broke into a wide grin when he spotted her standing in the middle of the room. Depositing the cake quickly on the side table laid out in preparation for it, he opened his mouth and let out a silent yell and waved his hands around in excitement. If this were charades, Honey would have guessed at ‘Man overcome with excitement at meeting Bono’. And then she realised. It was ‘Man overcome with excitement at meeting Benedict Hallam’. Victim number two. Hal’s hit rate was impressive.

Steve jerked his thumb towards the kitchen.

‘He’s proper famous,’ he mouthed. ‘And he’s taught me how to make sausage rolls.’

Steve pointed at the evidence, a plate of golden gorgeousness on the table.

‘Looks like that isn’t all he’s taught you,’ Honey said, her gaze travelling over the plates of sandwiches and niceties on the table.

‘Where did the cake come from?’

Steve shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ he stage-whispered, as shiny eyed as a five-year-old who’d just got his first bike for Christmas. ‘Hal made some calls and a van arrived with it ten minutes later. He’s, like, amazing.’ His expression turned suddenly serious. ‘But listen, Honey. You can’t tell anyone he’s here, okay? He’s undercover.’ Steve’s brow furrowed. ‘Do you think he might be making one of those programmes for the TV where the boss pretends to be somebody else?’

Loving Steve’s enthusiasm but doubting his sanity, Honey smiled. ‘I don’t think so, no, but his secret’s safe with me. Is he through there?’

Steve nodded furtively, and then ambled out of the dining room in the direction of the loo, leaving Honey looking at the door leading to the kitchen.

‘It’s beyond weird seeing you here,’ she said from the doorway, looking at Hal perched at the work surface, eating a bowl of soup.

‘It’s beyond weird being here,’ he said, seemingly unsurprised to hear her voice. ‘There’s soup in the pan if you haven’t had lunch.’

Honey ladled out a bowl of the creamy soup, sniffing the steam.

‘It’s just leek and potato. Steve made it.’

‘Skinny Steve made this?’

‘Went down a storm at lunchtime.’

‘I’m not surprised. I don’t think they’ve eaten soup that didn’t come out of a tin in the last five years.’

Honey grabbed a spoon and sat down along from Hal at the counter.

‘You met Lucille, then,’ she said, blowing on her spoon before eating it. ‘Jesus, this is gorgeous!’

She didn’t miss the pride that slid over Hal’s features before he shut it down. ‘It’s just soup.’

‘Yeah, and Brad Pitt is just a man. Not all men are born equal.’

Hal mulled on that. ‘Just eat it.’

Honey was more than happy to do as she was told, and took the chance to properly observe Hal outside of his comfort zone for the first time since she’d met him. He hadn’t strayed far from the stool, but all the same he looked more at home than he had when she’d left him this morning.

‘Yeah, I met Lucille,’ Hal said. ‘Classy lady. She speaks highly of you.’

‘She speaks highly of everyone,’ Honey smiled, warmed by Hal’s admiration of Lucille. ‘Thank you for sorting out Old Don’s party too. Where did you get that cake?’

Hal shrugged. ‘I know people.’

It was no doubt one hell of an understatement, but she knew enough not to expect further elaboration.

‘There’s enough food and soup for everyone to have dinner tonight,’ he said. ‘And we’ve worked out the menu for the next few days.’ He stopped and pushed his bowl away. ‘Steve asked if I’ll come back tomorrow.’

Honey’s spoon stilled halfway to her mouth. ‘And will you?’

Hal ran a hand over his stubble. ‘I’ll think about it.’

Gathering both of their bowls and sliding them into the dishwasher, she turned to leave.

‘I better get back. Billy’s holding the fort, he’ll probably be giving the stock away in exchange for kisses.’

Hal rewarded her with a half smile, one of those that did odd things to her synapses.

‘Sounds like a fair deal to me,’ he said softly. ‘Don’t forget me at home time, Honeysuckle.’

‘I’ll try not to,’ she said, swinging out of the kitchen. Forget him. As if.

Billy was waiting for her when she got back to the shop and, contrary to her concerns, he’d made a magnificent job of holding the fort.

‘We need to talk about the campaign, Honey,’ he said as he placed a china cup and saucer of tea down in front of her ten minutes later. ‘I’m afraid Mimi and Lucille’s fisticuffs has rather put us in a tricky spot.’

Honey couldn’t help but smile at Billy’s choice of phrase, but she knew he was right. Christopher must be rubbing his hands together over at the home; they’d played right into his hands by fighting amongst themselves.

‘Who called the ambulance?’ she said.

Billy glanced out of the window. ‘The finger has to point towards the establishment,’ he said, anarchic, looking down his nose towards the home.

Honey didn’t doubt it. ‘What did he say in his speech?’

‘He mentioned the words
regrettable
and
senile
a few times, and then I threw my shoe at him.’

‘Did you really?’

‘I most certainly did, darling.’ Billy waved his red suede, thick crepe-soled shoe in the air. ‘I think he has a suggestion of a black eye.’

Honey sipped her tea thoughtfully.

‘Billy, do you think you could watch the shop for a little longer this afternoon? There’s someone I need to catch up with.’

‘Is it that rather dashing chef in the kitchen, young lady?’ Billy wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. ‘Very enigmatic, with those dark glasses.’

‘He’s blind, Billy.’

It was a rare thing for Billy to look surprised, and even rarer for him to be serious. Nevertheless, he pulled off both emotions simultaneously at Honey’s revelation.