‘He only sings for Claire’s benefit, apparently,’ Espie said archly.
‘Actually, do you have any paper?’ Luca asked Claire.
‘Sure.’ She went across the hall to the room she used as a study and grabbed a sheaf of A4.
‘Thanks,’ he said, when she handed it to him, and produced a pencil from a pocket. ‘Do you guys mind if I sketch you?’ he asked, raising the pencil and paper.
‘No, not at all,’ Espie said, and everyone agreed.
Luca’s fingers flew over the paper as they began to play, and Claire watched him, fascinated not only by his skill but by the way he seemed to capture the very essence of each person with just a few strokes. Soon the table was covered with sketches. ‘They’re really good,’ he said, nodding at the shambolic group of musicians.
‘They are.’ They were all playing well, and Nancy and Jim, who took turns singing, both had beautiful voices.
The only discordant note was the violin, which constantly jarred on the ear as Mary kept hitting wrong notes. ‘Sorry, that was brutal, wasn’t it?’ she said, when they had finished the first song. ‘I can’t seem to get my hands to do what I want them to do.’
‘It was grand, Mary!’ Jim said. ‘We all know what you meant.’
‘Maybe I should stop playing,’ she fretted. ‘I don’t want to spoil it for everyone.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Espie said. ‘It wouldn’t be the same without you.’
‘Oh well, if you’re sure…’ Newly emboldened, Mary scraped away for the rest of the evening, missing more notes than she hit, but clearly having a whale of a time.
‘I take it all back,’ Luca said later, when they were alone in the kitchen. ‘Spoons is a very sexy instrument.’ He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, one hand sliding up underneath her shirt to caress the bare skin of her back. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said. ‘It seems like ages since you’ve been in my bed.’
‘I’ve missed you too.’
He bent to kiss her again, and Claire clung to him, kissing him back, her breathing becoming ragged.
‘I won’t be able to see you next week either,’ she said. ‘There’s a book launch at the shop on Thursday, Mark’s coming over on Saturday, and I don’t want to leave Mum on her own too often.’
‘Mark’s coming over?’ He frowned, releasing her.
‘Just for the night.’
‘But you’re still sticking to your five-date rule?’
‘Yeah. I still need more practice.’
‘Okay. Good. Don’t let him rush you into anything.’
‘I won’t,’ she said, laughing at his grumpy expression and his over-protective attitude. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost have thought he was jealous.
‘Ready, Luca?’ Jim said, appearing in the doorway. He had offered Luca a lift home.
‘I’ll see you the Saturday after next, then,’ he said, as Claire saw them to the door. ‘You’re still coming to Ali’s party with me?’
‘Definitely. I’ll pick you up.’
23
It’s Different for Girls
The trouble with threesomes is that everyone wants the same thing, so no one gets what they want: paradoxical, but true. Try this – picture a threesome. What do you see? (I’ll come back to you at the end of class.)
I’ve always found the idea of a threesome very exciting. In fact, it’s a favourite fantasy of mine, and recently I found out that Mr Strange feels the same way. So, happy days, right? We both want the same thing. But what I see when I fantasise about a threesome is me and two members of the opposite sex, and I suspect it’s the same for most people. So, probably not happy days.
Still, when Mr Strange started making noises about a threesome, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and asked exactly how he saw that panning out – just in case he’d surprise me, just on the off-chance that he’d be the tenth dentist – the one who recommends the regular toothpaste. Who would be the players in this three-way, I asked him.
