Ignoring his friend, Gethin moves the little joystick that operates his chair and follows me. Llewellyn waits for me at the other end of the ballroom. He’s set up a projector and a large white pull-down screen for my presentation.
Ashe is also there. She’s been following me around trying to learn more about roses. Since making her cry that first day, I’ve been giving her lots of space to learn and expand her horizons. Learning new things has always helped me cope with pain; that and keeping busy. So when I went to Llewellyn’s Hub earlier to prepare my presentation, she came along and helped me. Now I see that both of them have everything ready.
“We thought you might like to do a dry run first to get used to the hardware.” Llewellyn offers me the remote control.
“Shame on you, young man.” Gethin, still following me, wags a finger at Llewellyn. “Saying ‘hard’ to a young lady.”
We’re all getting used to his harmless flirting and innuendo. Llewellyn rolls his eyes. “Gethin, you’re getting to be as bad as Johnny Cash.”
“Me?” Gethin is outraged. “You’re the one spending hours in the café trying to teach him song lyrics.”
“Song lyrics?” Ashe asks.
Llewellyn shrugs. “Just trying to give him an alternative vocabulary.”
Gethin barks a laugh loud enough to attract the attention of the people already around the table. “Alternative lyrics about prison and cocaine?”
“Good point.” Llewellyn laughs too. It’s nice to see Llewellyn in a good mood tonight; he’s been tense and on edge all week since Nora turned up.
My own tension is still here; I stare at the complicated and no doubt expensive equipment and imagine myself fluffing my words, knocking into the trolley and sending it wheeling into thewall and causing everything to fall off and break. “So what does what?” I point at the projector.
“I’m not brilliant with technology. Back in TV, we had scores of techies to handle all this. All I had to do was look into the camera and speak.”
“Don’t worry, it’s foolproof. You can’t cock it up.” Instantly he winces, shooting Gethin an apologetic glance.
The older man throws his arms up in the air. “Don’t say ‘cock’. If you must, use the scientific word. Say, ‘you can’t penis it up’.”
I snort and Ashe giggles.
He shows me how to work everything then hands me a wireless mic, the kind that clips around the head.
“Do I need this?”
“When the room is full, thirty people can make a lot of hum. You want to focus on your presentation, not worry about being inaudible.”
I take it from him and try to put it round my head. “Actually, being inaudible sounds very good to me right now.”
“Here, let me do this for you.” He takes the headset and wraps it around the back of my head, clips the end over my ear so the mic is an inch from the corner of my mouth.
“What’s going on?”
The voice makes me jump.
Nora is right behind me.
She’s here? I’ve been so busy I hadn’t seen her and assumed she’d left.
Nora is also wearing a black shift dress, except hers is tight, shiny satin and has a few tiny black pearl buttons in front. Two have been left open to reveal a hint of shiny white bosom.
“Are you going to sing?” Nora asks me, then flicks Ashe with a pitying look. “Is this one of your sad helpers?”
Ashe goes bright red.
“Shall we try that dry run, now?” Llewellyn’s face has gone white and rigid, but he ignores Nora completely as if she’s not even here. “Ashe?” he says very quietly. “Do you have the running order?”
Ashe hands me a page; her hand isn’t altogether steady.
I’m furious with Nora but there’s not much I can say or do without making the situation worse. Even Gethin feels the tension because he’s looking down at his knees, the usual spark gone from his face.
