The Piano Man Project Page 0,71

sight more considerate than you are in bed.’

‘We haven’t been to bed, and we’re not going to,’ he said.

‘You’re not wrong there, buster,’ she yelled, opening the door. ‘You had your chance to spend the night with me and you blew it, big time.’

It wasn’t the best time to find herself eyeball to eyeball with the postman. He lifted his eyebrows at her appraisingly, handed her the morning’s mail and walked away down the pavement sounding suspiciously as if he was laughing under his breath. Honey glanced through the letters; bills, pizza menus and junk mail. She threw them all on the table in the hall, including the brown envelope addressed in stark black handwriting to Mr Benedict Hallam. Up to then he hadn’t received so much as one piece of mail, leading Honey to conclude that he’d redirected everything on purpose.

She cursed him loudly a few times for good measure and then slammed out of the house hard enough to rattle the windows.

Monday morning, and there had been no further communication, across the lobby or otherwise, between Honey and Hal. Neither of them had enjoyed their weekends much. Honey just didn’t get the man at all. Why had he agreed to sleep with her and then treated her the way he did on Friday night? Was it just too good an opportunity to yank her chain? Even after two days removed from the situation it was hard to see it as much else.

For his part, Hal brooded in silence, mad at himself for the way he’d made such a monumental botch of the situation. He’d been so concentrated on not letting it cross the line into romance that he’d turned it into borderline assault. Was this it for him now? A lifetime of misread situations and mistakes? He knew exactly where he’d gone wrong – he should never have agreed to it in the first place.

‘Would you come outside and cuff me, dear?’ Mimi asked Honey an hour or so later. It was her turn to be chained to the railings that day, and she was all decked out in her slogan t-shirt and hot pink leggings in readiness. She’d tied a pink polka dot headscarf in a jaunty bow on top of her dark curls, and looked for all the world like the star of an OAP production of Grease. Honey grinned at the thought. She’d pay good money to go and watch that on the stage. Mimi would definitely be Frenchy to Lucille’s Sandy, and Billy’s snake hips would make him a shoe-in for one of the T-Birds.

Honey shot a look towards Lucille, stacking glasses over on the far side of the shop. Had she mentioned her visit to Ernie yet, she wondered? The cordial atmosphere suggested not.

‘Of course. You ready now?’ she said, picking up Mimi’s fluffy red cuffs from the counter.

Mimi nodded. ‘Although I’m starving. That chef the agency sent over is awful. He gave us biscuits for breakfast this morning,’ she grumbled. ‘We oldies need our All-Bran or there’s hell to pay.’

Honey grimaced. ‘How did he do over the weekend?’

‘Terrible. I can’t even talk about it,’ Mimi shuddered. ‘Even your cooking was better than his.’

Honey swung between being insulted and proud. She went with proud; there was little point in being insulted by the truth. She followed Mimi out, calling back to Lucille that she’d be five minutes.

Lucille looked up sharply. ‘Honey, dear,’ she called out as Mimi left the shop. Honey turned back, and Lucille zipped her lips together with her thumb and forefinger then shrugged apologetically.

Honey shook her head. ‘This can’t go on, Lucille,’ she hissed, as Lucille walked towards her and shooed her out the door.

Outside, Honey found not only Mimi but Billy too, along with two women in their forties who she didn’t recognise.

‘Honey, fetch some more of those frivolous little handcuffs, my darling,’ Billy called, slinging his arms around the shoulders of the two identical-looking women. ‘We’ve got company today. Michelle and Lisa here have come to help the cause.’

The women nodded in unison, and Honey found herself distracted by their uncanny likeness to both each other, and to Susan Boyle. ‘My auntie Titania lives here,’ one of them said. ‘She’s my auntie too,’ the other said, rather redundantly adding ‘we’re sisters,’ for clarification. ‘Twins,’ the other said, and they both nodded solemnly. Honey slipped back into the shop for more cuffs and then dutifully chained all four of the protesters to the railings.

Billy had opted for red skinny