Page 20 of Secrets at the Little Music Shop

‘Ha!’ Jason tugged at the lapels of his suit. He did look very glamorous in his tuxedo, I had to admit. ‘Rosie insisted I dress up. Hey Rosie!’ he yelled into the kitchen. ‘You want me to put Harry to bed yet?’

Rosie appeared in the kitchen doorway, pink in the face and slightly flustered. ‘Oh, would you, Jase? That’d be lovely. I’m just finishing off the starters in here. God, Jem, that’s the door — will you get it?’ She wiped her hands distractedly down the front of her appropriately Rosie-pink dress and vanished back into the steamy depths.

I squeezed past Jason, who was on his way up the stairs with Harry, and opened the front door to Ben. He was carrying a bottle of wine, wearing a suit minus the jacket and with the top shirt button undone. He had his hair loose but sort of swept back. It suited him.

‘Hello.’ We faced each other across the crumbling front step.

‘You found us all right then?’ I took the bottle he held out.

‘Your instructions were great. The taxi driver never knew this place existed before now, it’s a lovely village.’

‘Thank you,’ I replied without thinking.

‘Build it yourself then, did you?’

‘Ah, I see Mister Polite has released control of your body. Come in.’

Ben followed me into the living room and then we stood, side by side, silent. He was wearing the nice aftershave again. ‘This is fun,’ he said finally.

‘Yes. Not a bit awkward or anything.’ I could see him eyeing up the dress, and to forestall any difficult questions I grabbed the bottle from the dining table and poured him a glass of white wine. ‘So. Sit down.’

‘Yes! Ma’am!’

‘I didn’t mean — ’ I took a giant sip of my wine. ‘Please. Sit down. If you can bear to soil yourself with our petty furniture that is.’

‘I’ll try.’ Ben sat. I perched on the arm of the saggy but comfortable chair opposite and carried on drinking. ‘So, is it just yourself here or–?’

‘Oh, no, I share the place with Rosie. She’s my friend, the one I told you about.’

‘The baby’s mum?’

‘Yes. And the baby’s called Harry.’

‘Right.’ Ben took a sip of his wine and looked around at the walls. They were plain stone, whitewashed and hung with several of Rosie’s pictures, but even so they didn’t merit quite the scrutiny he was giving them. The silence stretched.

‘Dinner will only be a minute!’ Rosie stuck her head into the room again and I seized on the distraction.

‘Ben, this is Rosie. Rosie, this is, obviously, Ben.’

Ben stood up and smiled. ‘Hello.’

Rosie came out of the doorway towards us, grinning a grin which slowly left her face. She turned to stare at me.

‘Jemima?’ she asked.

‘What? You told me to invite Ben, so I did. That’s still all right, isn’t it?’

Rosie looked from me to Ben and back again. ‘Well, yes, of course. Sorry, I’m just — distracted. Um. Nice to meet you — Ben. Jem, could you come and give me a quick hand, the chilli is playing up out here.’

‘All right.’ I followed her into the tiny kitchen, which was full of bubbling noises and steam, accounting for the frantic nature of her curls. She shut the door behind us.

‘Jemima!’

‘What?’ I was genuinely puzzled by her reaction. ‘I know he’s a bit skinny but he’s OK, honestly. Well mostly OK. Especially when he’s not wearing Lycra.’

Rosie dropped her voice so that it was barely audible over the sound of the boiling. ‘Don’t you know who he is?’

‘Yes, I already said. It’s Ben.’

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