The Piano Man Project Page 0,109

smallest of power shifts between the two sisters since the incident with Mimi’s ankle; less of an imbalance in Mimi’s favour and it suited Lucille well.

Honey looked over her shoulder. ‘Where’s Billy got to again?’

‘The Scarlet Pimpernel,’ Mimi grouched. ‘Give him an audience, and the man has to act the goat. He’s been here, there and everywhere all day.’

Honey rolled her shoulders and stretched her legs out in front of her, suddenly aware of how much her feet were aching now that she’d sat down. She could easily forgive Billy for deserting his post if it meant she got to spend five minutes recharging her batteries between the two main reasons she was doing any of this in the first place.

Gazing down the road, her eyes came to rest on a small dark-haired woman pushing a wheelchair in their direction. Catching her eye, the woman broke into a wide smile and raised her hand.

Beside her, Honey heard Lucille’s soft gasp and a second later felt her fingers grip her wrist.

‘I know,’ Honey said, raising her hand and smiling in acknowledgment. ‘I see them.’

‘Who?’ Mimi said, peering around them to see who they were looking at.

From a distance, it might have been Mimi in the wheelchair, the resemblance was so strong.

Honey reached out and picked up Mimi’s hand in her own. She didn’t miss the fact that it was shaking slightly. Lucille’s fingers tightened around Honey’s wrist and they sat in silence until their visitors came to a halt in front of them.

‘Well there’s no denying whose brother you are, is there?’ Mimi said brusquely, dashing her spare hand across the back of her eyes.

‘Ernie!’ Lucille cried, springing up and kissing his cheek.

‘I saw you both on the news and I had to come,’ he said, holding on to her hand. ‘You girls are being so brave, I thought I should be too.’ His gaze moved to Mimi, uncertain. ‘Is that okay?’

Honey stood and moved her chair out from between Mimi and Lucille.

Mimi sighed. ‘You better park yourself up here,’ she nodded at the freshly vacated space. ‘Honey, you better go and get Ernie a nice cup of tea.’

Billy wasn’t acting the goat or entertaining the crowds. Shirtsleeves rolled back and pinny on, he was working up a storm alongside Hal and Skinny Steve, reacquainting himself with knife skills gained in the army kitchens. There was something about their new chef that intrigued him. Maybe it was the fact that he reminded him in some ways of his much-missed brother. Maybe it was that he sensed a deep melancholy in him, and innately understood it. Maybe it was purely selfish, that every now and then Billy needed to turn the showman off for a while. Or maybe he wanted to check Hal out as a potential suitor for Honey, because it was written all over the girl that she was in way over her head. Perhaps it was a jumble of all of those things that placed Billy in the kitchen, but whatever it was, Hal was grateful for both his help and his company.

A second TV company had been and gone by half past four, and the protest had managed to make most of the national news channels as well as the local ones. It was the kind of story that caught hold of everyone’s imagination, and Honey’s impassioned speech had set Twitter on fire with the hashtag #standwithus trending across the country. Going make-up free had been an unintentional stroke of genius; she’d become the tearstained poster girl that everyone wanted to wade in and support.

‘Five hundred tealights,’ Nell puffed, dropping a straining carrier bag down and rubbing her fingers where the plastic had bit into them. They were going to lose light soon and no one was showing any sign of going home, so they’d decided to break just about every health and safety rule in the book and hand out tealights.

‘Candles create atmosphere,’ Tash had reasoned. ‘They make people feel all sentimental. Imagine how it’ll look on the TV, Honey, like one of those vigils that makes everyone pick up the phone to give money they don’t have.’

‘Have we heard anything at all from the owners of the home?’ Simon asked, standing with his arm around Nell’s shoulders.

Nell shook her head. ‘The only thing they’re saying on the TV is that they’ve declined to comment.’

‘Well, they’re just about the only one who has,’ Nell looked up from her mobile and grinned. ‘Phillip Schofield’s just tweeted the standwithus