The Piano Man Project Page 0,98

the window while she swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. They didn’t make men like Billy anymore, or for that matter, women like Mimi and Lucille. Fashioned out of sterner stuff by necessity, accustomed to hardship and fighting for what they believed in. In every way but physically, they were actually far better equipped for today than she was.

At a couple of minutes before ten, Billy and Mimi made their way out to the railings as if it were business as usual. Five minutes later, Lucille joined them, a trio of chained OAPs. Honey glanced at them through the window and Billy threw her a wink. He was enjoying this. In fact, everyone seemed to be in high spirits, and camaraderie ruled as they united together in their common cause. Safety in numbers, Lucille had said when they’d talked over the plans for the day, and it had become the unofficial name for the protest. Watching the residents walk out every few minutes to join the line, Honey’s pulse beat a little faster. Operation Safety in Numbers was go.

By eleven o’clock, they were all there, standing if they were able, seated if they weren’t. Thirty-three of them in all, each fastened by fluffy sex cuffs to the railings, or in Old Don’s wheelchair’s case, his vintage tie collection again.

Honey locked the shop doors and went outside to join them. Much as she wanted to join them on the railings, they needed her for other things. She was their designated spokesperson, and just as importantly given their ages, she was the welfare officer. It was up to Honey to make sure they were all okay, grab seating for those who were flagging, put blankets around shoulders, and make sure they were all well fed.

‘Hey, Honey!’ She turned at the sound of her name and found herself flanked by Tash ready for action in her gym gear, and Nell in jeans, Hunter wellies and a buttoned-up Barbour. The girl even had a whistle around her neck.

‘You came,’ Honey grinned, gladder than she could have imagined to see them. The weight of making sure today went well sat heavy on her shoulders, but having her two best friends beside her lightened it.

‘As if we’d be anywhere else,’ Nell said, looping her arm around Honey’s shoulders. ‘What can we do?’

‘We need to make sure everyone’s warm, comfortable and fed,’ Honey said, going through the basic list that had been running through her mind constantly since she’d woken. The whole thing would be for nothing if they gave Christopher any ammunition to use on them again. Honey had had to look away to hide her smile earlier when she’d overheard Billy giving Lucille and Mimi a strict talking-to about not brawling in the street again, but the fact was that they couldn’t afford to come across as anything other than the fabulous band of elders that they were.

‘There’s a box of blankets by the gate,’ Honey said, pointing towards the large box that she and Mimi had put together in the charity shop yesterday. Blankets were one of the things they received lots of, and they’d certainly be put to good use today.

‘And there are chairs stacked just over there by the shop door.’ She gestured at them. ‘Basically, we need to make sure everyone is okay at all times, you know?’

Tash nodded. ‘Easy-peasy, Honeysuckle.’

Nell’s professional eye skimmed the line. ‘Thirty-three. Eleven each,’ she said briskly. ‘Honey, you take from Billy onwards to eleven. I’ll take the central chunk. Tash, you look after the last eleven. Right?’

She turned expectant eyes towards Honey and Tash, who could only nod, wide eyed. It was not for nothing that Nell had spent the last five years marshalling schoolyards of rowdy children.

‘Will you blow your whistle if you see any of them playing up?’ Tash asked innocently.

Nell smirked at Tash’s sarcasm. ‘I’m more likely to blow it at you than them. Chop chop.’ She craned her neck as the doors to the home opened and Skinny Steve appeared with a large tray of plastic cups, a thermos of tea, and a mountain of muffins.

‘Is Skinny Steve on his own in the kitchen today?’ Nell frowned, having heard all about the recent kitchen woes from Honey.

Honey inspected her fingernails rather than look her friends in the eye.

‘He has help.’

‘If chilli-chef has returned from Spain, my eleven aren’t going near those muffins,’ Tash said, holding up her perfectly manicured hands. ‘These babies are so not made for wiping OAP bottoms.’

‘You’re