The Piano Man Project Page 0,19

she said. ‘Coronation Street starts in five minutes. I know you’d hate to miss it.’

Hal’s mouth quirked at the edges. ‘You know it.’

Dark stubble covered his jaw, and on impulse, Honey reached out and touched it. ‘You need a shave, rock star.’

Hal stilled at the contact, and Honey felt his jawbone stiffen beneath the softness of the few days’ beard growth. They stood there for a few long seconds, his face warm against her palm, neither of them letting go of their breath. To a casual onlooker they’d have looked like lovers saying goodnight.

‘Maybe you could put a razor on that list of yours then,’ he said eventually, and Honey let her hand slide away.

‘Noted,’ she whispered.

‘Night, then,’ he said, then stepped backwards and clicked his door shut. Honey stared at the pale wood, then at her still-tingling palm, and then moved across the hallway into the safety and solitude of her own flat.

Hal leaned his back against his closed door, the scent of her on his fingers when he scrubbed them over his jaw. What the fuck was it about Strawberry Girl? In his world, women smelt of expensive perfume, died a million deaths at the idea of chips, and their polished sexual routines included a perfectly executed orgasm on cue. Or women in his old world, at least. His world of fast cars and glamorous women, and a job he loved with a passion bordering on obsession. He’d only ever wanted to be a chef, and he’d worked bloody hard for more than a decade to build his reputation to the point of being able to open his own restaurant almost three years previously. Hal wasn’t ashamed to admit that he’d enjoyed the trappings of his success – the celebrity clientele, the awards, the sparkling reviews from notoriously hard-to-please food critics. His life had been big, and full, and busy, and thrilling.

And now he was here, alone in this godforsaken place, and the only remotely interesting thing about his door was the girl living on the other side of it. A girl who he now knew wore knickers with the day of the week on, and who said the first thing that came into her blonde head without thinking, and who’d lived her entire life without experiencing the mind-numbing bliss of great sex. He briefly wondered whether Deano the synthesiser player would be the man to show her different, and then just as briefly hoped not. No one should have their first orgasm with a man called Deano.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘I thought I might chain myself to the railings around the home,’ Mimi said. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time, I was at Greenham Common you know.’

Lucille nodded. ‘She was. She used her bra as a rope.’

Billy Bobbysocks grinned and skimmed a hand over his artful grey quiff. A loyal lifetime customer of Brylcreem, he still had an impressive head of hair for a man well into his eighties. ‘I rather like the idea of you chained up, my darling. May I be the keeper of the keys?’

Mimi’s dark eyes sparkled at her beau as Honey cleared her throat. It was a few days after the news about the possible closure, and Honey had called a campaign meeting now that the shop had shut for the day. They were gathered around the rickety Formica table in the staffroom. So far Honey had noted down Lucille’s suggestion to contact the local paper, and Nell’s idea to involve the residents’ families and organise a protest walk. Tash and Nell had turned up together about ten minutes previously. They’d both been eager to help as soon as they’d heard about the closure threat hanging over the home and the shop. As committees went, it was a decidedly rocky start – three women in their late twenties and three octogenarians; they sounded rather like a joke awaiting its punch line. Billy withdrew a silver hip-flask from his jacket and took a nip.

‘Anyone for brandy?’ he said, waving the bottle around the table at them, shrugging when they all declined and pushing the flask back inside his jacket. Honey’s thoughts automatically strayed to Hal, and the fact that he would have had that flask off Billy in a flash.

‘What do you reckon, Honey?’ Tash said, digging an elbow in her ribs beside her. ‘Honey?’

Honey glanced up at her friend, realising she had no clue what had been said since her mind had wandered into Hal territory.

‘Sorry, what?’

‘Are you even listening? You were miles away.’

Honey chewed