The Piano Man Project (35 page)

‘In case you think of anything else to tell me,’ she said, and then tripped away on her high heels.

Skinny Steve breathed a sigh of relief and headed inside for more coffee.

As dusk fell just before six o’clock, the candles turned the pavement into a flickering carpet of light and Honey returned to her sweet spot between Lucille and Mimi.

‘Ernie’s gone then?’

Lucille nodded with a little smile. ‘He stayed for ten minutes or so, but he was worn out. He’s promised to come and see us again soon though.’

Mimi’s expression was inscrutable, and Honey decided not to push her on the matter.

‘Still no sign of Billy?’

‘He appeared a while back with a plate of sausage rolls,’ Lucille said. ‘Odd, really.’

‘Nothing surprises me where that man’s concerned,’ Mimi said. ‘He’s a loose cannon.’

Honey laughed softly. ‘He is that.’

‘How’s that handsome friend of yours doing in the kitchen?’ Lucille asked, her blue eyes keen and wise.

Honey shrugged. ‘Well everyone’s eaten, so I guess he’s doing fine.’

‘Haven’t you been inside to check on him?’ Mimi asked sharply, and Honey suddenly felt as if she were caught in the centre of a ‘good cop bad cop’ routine.

‘Not this afternoon, no. I’ve been busy out here, there hasn’t been time.’

‘There’s time now,’ Lucille said reasonably. ‘Take five minutes.’

Honey picked at a loose thread on her sleeve. ‘Maybe later.’

‘I used to say things like that,’ Mimi said. ‘And then you get old and there isn’t a later, and you wish you’d done it sooner.’

‘You didn’t say that about meeting Ernie,’ Lucille said, her tone laced with hurt.

Mimi shot Lucille a look for going badly off script and ignored the barb.

‘I’m just giving Honey the benefit of my wisdom. If there’s something that needs to be said, don’t let your pride stop you from saying it.’

Lucille nodded and laid her hand on Honey’s arm.

‘She’s right, dear. We both think that you’ve fallen for him. You should tell him.’

Honey let her head drop back and gazed at the stars.

‘It’s more complicated than that.’

She didn’t bother denying the truth. Mimi and Lucille knew her inside out and backwards, and besides, it was a relief to talk about it out loud.

‘It’s only as complicated as you make it,’ Lucille said.

Honey sighed heavily. ‘They aren’t my complications, Lucille. They’re his. He’s got to make some choices, and I’ve got to wait and see which way the chips fall.’

‘That doesn’t sound fair to me,’ Mimi said. ‘Never give a man all the power, Honeysuckle. They don’t know what to do with it and will more than likely blow their own hands off before they’ve even got started.’

‘His ex-fiancée wants him to go back to London. She sent him a letter asking him to step back to his old life.’ Honey folded her arms over her chest and kept her eyes on the dark sky. ‘They’re supposed to be getting married next year.’

Mimi and Lucille fell silent while they mulled Honey’s revelation over.

‘People change,’ Lucille said, eventually. ‘Going back isn’t always possible.’

‘Get yourself in there this minute and tell him to choose you,’ Mimi said, suddenly fierce. ‘Or do you want me to do it for you?’

Honey laughed softly and rubbed Mimi’s arm. She was pretty sure that however fierce Hal could be, Mimi could be fiercer.

‘I think this is one battle I need to fight on my own,’ she said, knowing that Mimi and Lucille were both right in their own ways. She needed to pull up her big girl pants and be honest with Hal about how she felt before he made his decision, or else she might never get the chance to. It would be better to cope with rejection and get over him than to spend the rest of her life wondering what if.

‘I’ll tell him. As soon as today’s over, I’ll tell him.’

Skinny Steve heaped piles of warm sausage rolls onto plates and prepared to go out on yet another food run.

‘Try not to get paparazzied this time, Stevie-boy,’ Billy warned.

Hal grinned. ‘Are you becoming a celebrity out there too, Steve?’

‘It’s not funny,’ Steve muttered. ‘I almost blew your cover earlier.’

Hal paused, hating the fear that prickled the hairs on his arms. ‘Only
almost
though, right?’

‘Yeah, I only said Hal, not your whole name, before I remembered.’ Steve put the sausage rolls down by the door and rustled in his apron pocket for the reporter’s business card. ‘Alicia Caughton-Black. What kind of a name is that?’ he laughed, picking up the plate again and shaking his head as he headed outside.

‘Fuck.’

Hal scrubbed his hand over his mouth hard. He knew exactly what kind of a name Alicia Caughton-Black was, because he’d met Alicia Caughton-Black on several occasions. A reporter who loved to court the celebrity circuit, she’d eaten in his restaurant; he remembered her well because she’d made a fuss about being vegan every time and asked to see him personally to discuss her choice of dish. He’d known at the time that she was trying to draw gossip from him rather than food facts, but he’d paid little attention because no publicity was bad publicity for the restaurant.

Skinny Steve would have been like Bambi in her lioness paws; the kid wouldn’t have stood a chance of outwitting her.

‘What’s the matter, son?’

Billy.

‘I need to get out of here, Billy,’ Hal said, aware that his voice wasn’t as even as he’d like it to be.

‘You mean you need a breath of fresh air? A ciggie?’ Billy said, sounding doubtful.

‘No. I mean I need you to call me a cab and not tell a soul.’

‘You can’t walk out of here now, son. We need you.’

Savage fury ripped through Hal’s chest, and he kicked the cupboard beside him. ‘Why now?’ he said. ‘Why the fuck right now?’

‘Tell me what’s going on, Hal. I might be able to help you.’

Hal shook his head. ‘The only thing you can do now is call me that cab, Billy. I’ll tell you exactly what you and Steve need to do to keep things going tonight, but I can’t stay here. I’m sorry. I just can’t.’

At that moment, Honey, Tash and Nell all sat side by side on the grass outside, their bellies full of Hal’s delicious food and their ears full of the sound of singing. Lucille and Old Don had reprised their roles as choir leaders, starting things off with the opening lines of ‘Morning Has Broken’. Slowly and surely, people had joined them. Residents, family and friends, singing, humming, their faces illuminated by the flicker of the candles as they swayed gently. The parole boys moved things along with a heartrending rendition of the opening verse of ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’; they were no Welsh choir, but they moved the crowd to join in with them come the chorus.

It was a scene that burned itself onto Honey’s heart forever, and was absolute TV gold for the news channels. Troy Masters had once more returned to the site with his cameraman, and they watched as he filed a piece to camera on the unfolding events.

‘I still think you should have a crack at him, Honey,’ Tash said, her eyes on his pert backside. ‘You’re practically a celebrity in your own right now. You could be one of those cute TV couples who host
This Morning
.’

‘Piss off,’ Honey said, knocking Tash in the ribs with her elbow.

‘I don’t think she needs us to set her up anymore,’ Nell said. ‘Do you, Honey?’

Honey had known that her friends were too perceptive to miss what was going on under their noses.

‘Don’t say it,’ Tash said suddenly. ‘I know you think you love him, but it’ll pass.’

Honey turned to her. ‘Not so long ago you were telling me to seduce him.’

‘Yeah. Seduce him. Have hot sex. I never told you to bloody love him, did I?’

‘We can’t help who we fall in love with, Tash,’ Nell chided.

‘Bollocks can’t we,’ Tash shot back. ‘He’s trouble. He’s already broken her heart before he even knows she loves him.’

They lapsed into silence.

‘I don’t think he meant to,’ Honey said, her voice small.

Tash leaned in against her one shoulder, and Nell propped her up on the other side. They sat there like that for a fair while, and Honey felt her breathing regulate and her heartbeat calm down. Whatever happened, she wasn’t going to have to get through it alone.

‘Nell! Get Honey over here, quick!’ Simon called a few minutes later. ‘Troy Masters needs her on camera right now!’

Simon wasn’t given to drama, so his tone was enough to have the girls scrabbling to their feet and heading across the grass to Troy. He beckoned Honey across to stand beside him, and then switched on his professional smile and spoke into the camera.

‘Thank you Sarah,’ he replied to the presenter back in the studio. ‘Yes, you join us back here at Greyacres where we have breaking news, and I’m joined once more by Honeysuckle Jones, the protest leader.’

Honey smiled quizzically. Breaking news? She glanced towards Nell and Tash beside the cameraman, and they both shrugged, obviously none the wiser either. Troy looked down at an iPad in his hands, and then back to camera.

‘This has really caught the public’s attention today, nowhere more so than on Twitter,’ he said. ‘The hashtag #standwithus has been trending throughout the afternoon, and in the last ten minutes there’s been something of a first, Sarah, a celebrity auction taking place,’ he said, flashing his cosmetically correct smile again. ‘It seems that there’s at least three stars vying to buy the home for the residents, Honeysuckle,’ he said, and held the microphone out for her to reply.

‘Really?’ she squeaked, rendered almost speechless by shock and glassy eyed with yet more tears. Troy, who had her number this time, held out a tissue and grinned.

‘Mick Jagger was first to offer, and then Jamie Oliver threw his hat into the ring,’ Troy said.

‘His pukka white chef’s hat,’ Honey whispered in wonder, and earned herself a warning look from the cameraman.

She saw Tash lean towards Nell. ‘I’m gonna fucking die laughing if the third one’s Michael Bublé,’ she whispered.

The cameraman’s head whipped around so hard that he was lucky not to break his neck. Tash had just sworn live into the living rooms of thousands of viewers up and down the country.

Troy coughed spectacularly to cover it up as best he could and hastily threw back to Sarah in the studio, while Tash and Nell threw their arms around a shaky-kneed Honey and danced her in a wonky circle.

‘Oh my bloody God,’ Honey whispered, as Tash whipped her phone out and loaded Twitter.

‘Look at the list of hashtags that are trending right now,’ she said, running her finger down the list. #standwithus sat in pole position, closely followed by #goodonyoumick and #jamiesavestheday.

Honey stared at the screen, hardly able to believe it. They’d done it. They’d bloody well done it. Her face ached from smiling, and then that smile melted from her face like butter in a hot pan. Touching Tash’s mobile screen, she looked up slowly at her friend.

‘Why is #benedicthallam trending too, Tash?’

Honey ran. She ran through the crowds, desperate to get inside, dogged every step of the way by people wanting to congratulate her, shake her hand, or drag her into a hug. It was obvious that quite a few people had taken the arrival of dusk and candles as a prompt to crack open the wine, so there was a definite party vibe going on. Everyone gleefully threw off their shackles and made merry, but Honey couldn’t have felt less like joining in the revelry. She threw herself gratefully through the doors of the home, relieved when they slid shut and cut out much of the noise behind her. She needed to think fast, and most of all she needed to get to Hal. She had no clue what she was going to say to him; whether to warn him that he’d been discovered, tell him that the home was saved, or tell him that she loved him more than life. She needed to say all of those things, and she could feel her heart hammering as she pushed open the kitchen door and prayed he’d be in there alone.

Billy sat in the kitchen, no Hal or Skinny Steve, a bottle of whisky and two empty glasses on the counter in front of him. Honey didn’t stop to wonder why Billy was in the kitchen at all. The only thing that mattered was that Hal wasn’t there.

‘Where is he, Billy?’ she whispered.

‘Come and sit down, Honey,’ Billy said kindly, patting the stool next to his. She stood rooted to the spot, her hand over her heart.

‘Where is he?’

Billy sighed, his eyes troubled and his trademark sparkle nowhere to be seen.

‘He’s gone, sweetheart.’

‘Gone? How can he be gone?’ Honey said. ‘He goes home with me. We go home together.’

‘Not this time,’ Billy said, as tactfully as he could. ‘He asked me to call him a cab about an hour ago.’

‘A cab? You called him a cab?’ Panic sent her voice shrill. ‘For God’s sake, Billy, he doesn’t do this! He can’t … he hasn’t …’ She stopped, because she was gasping, struggling to get her breath.

‘Yes he can,’ Billy said quietly. ‘He’s not a child, Honey. He’s a man. Let him be one.’

She sagged against the doorframe. ‘Did he say where he was going?’

Billy looked down and shook his head sadly.

‘He had a lot on his mind,’ he offered.

Honey dashed the back of her hand over her cheeks.

‘I know that,’ she said. ‘How did he seem to you?’

Billy paused. ‘Like he needed space?’

‘From what?’ Honey said, stricken. ‘From me?’

In that moment she reminded Billy of an evacuated child, a lonely little girl suddenly bereft without the person she loved best. It fair broke his heart that her day should end like this.

It was well after midnight when the last of the protesters-turned-partygoers packed up and left, and Honey dropped down on the cool grass and wrapped her arms around her knees. People had been kind and taken all of their rubbish home with them, aside from a few lonely strands of tinsel glittering in the moonlight. Running her fingers over the grass, she found a discarded daisy chain, its flowers closed up and yellowing without the benefit of sunshine on its petals. Picking it up, she slipped it carefully in her pocket, and then accepted Tash’s outstretched hand to pull her up.

‘Dust yourself down, Supergirl,’ Tash said, leading her away from the home by the hand. ‘Come on. I’ll take you home.’