The Piano Man Project Page 0,97

lead her troops into battle. It was with tired eyes and a sore heart that she opened her door at a little after half past seven in the morning. It came as a shock to find Hal leaning against the wall outside her door. She’d assumed she wouldn’t see him again for days.

‘What are you doing lurking around in the hallway?’

‘I told you I’d be there today to help feed the protesters. That hasn’t changed.’

It was just about the only thing that hadn’t.

‘We can manage without you,’ Honey said, even though they patently, clearly could not.

‘Don’t be stupid. You’ll have mutiny on your hands if you leave Skinny Steve in charge of the kitchen,’ he said, then dropped his voice. ‘There’s no need for us to be awkward around each other. We’re adults, not school kids.’

So that was how he was going to play it. Achingly cool, terribly sophisticated, it happens every day kind of thing. Well she’d never be able to do that.

But he was painfully correct about one thing; her army could not be expected to march on an empty stomach, and Skinny Steve was no sergeant major. She desperately didn’t want to spend today around Hal, but so many people had invested too much time and effort, not to mention hope, into this day, and she had to put their needs before her own.

‘Fine,’ she said reluctantly. ‘Let’s just get on with it then, shall we?’

Outside it was one of those early autumn days to relish; the leaves turning, yet still enough warmth and the promise of washed-out lemon sunshine. Linking arms with Hal out of necessity, Honey tried not to feel any of the emotions he’d stirred in her last night, or BL, as she now referred to it in her head. Before Letter. They were now to adjust their relationship to AL status, or After Letter. Or neighbours without benefits, to put it another way. It was going to be a long, long day.

At the shop she found the troops already in the trenches. As it was closed on a Sunday, there were no customers, but the shop was heaving nonetheless. The majority of the residents had gathered inside, wearing oversized t-shirts over their woolly cardigans and jumpers with slogans painted on them, no doubt Billy’s handiwork. Today they would not be one or two residents chained to the railings. It was to be all hands to the pump, a human chain of as many people as they could muster, residents, their families, friends, customers … anyone who cared enough to give their time was welcome. They’d put the word out as surreptitiously as possible, and Old Don’s son had tipped off the press to expect something newsworthy. Honey could only hope now that their plan came together. They were banking on the fact that Christopher didn’t usually work the weekend shift. Without his eagle eye on the scene, they were hoping to make one last-ditch attempt to save the home.

‘Honeysuckle, our modern day Joan of Arc,’ Billy raised his hand and hailed her from the counter behind the till where he was busy handing out fluffy handcuffs from the large box he’d brought through from the staffroom. Mimi and Lucille flanked him, each with polka dot scarves knotted on their heads.

‘Nice headscarves, ladies,’ she grinned.

Mimi patted her dark curls. ‘Once a Land Girl, always a Land Girl.’

‘It feels a bit like those days in here today, doesn’t it?’ Lucille smiled fondly, her red lipstick the perfect match for her scarlet scarf.

‘Let’s just hope to God that we win this war, too,’ Billy murmured with unusual gravitas. He was all bluff and dander, so much so that it was easy to forget that beneath it all was a man approaching ninety and frightened of losing his home.

Honey cast her eyes around the shop, soothed by the low hum of chatter and the chink of teacups as the residents readied themselves for their scheduled ten o’clock start. They’d planned the protest carefully to begin after breakfast and the medication run, the inauspicious time when residents usually retired to their own rooms or to the communal lounge or gardens.

‘We will, Billy. We will.’

She patted his wrinkled, weather-worn hand, and he gripped her fingers tightly for a second and nodded, his resolute eyes over-bright.

‘Let go of her, you silly old goat,’ Mimi said mildly. Billy grinned and did as he was told, snapping back into his modus operandi as if nothing had happened. Honey turned her face towards