The Piano Man Project (14 page)

‘My God, Honey, I’m so proud of you,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘You were magnificent. I thought your boss was going to have an actual heart attack when you swallowed that key. For your own sake I’m never going to tell you where that’s been.’

Honey found she was shaking a little, a delayed reaction to having inadvertently made herself the Svengali of Hope for every resident caught up in the battle.

‘Three cheers for Honeysuckle, our very own Boudicca!’ Billy shouted, and the photographer’s flashbulbs almost blinded her when Nell turned her gently to face the expectant crowd, murmuring ‘smile’ in her ear as she stepped away.

Honey smiled tremulously, shaking inside, trying not to think ahead to the consequences of her actions. Or to wonder what Nell and Simon had done with the sex-cuff key before she’d swallowed it. She might get a tetanus shot, just in case.

‘Er, Honey dear?’ Mimi called out. ‘I think someone better call the fire brigade. I can’t get these cuffs off and my hands are going numb!’

The fire crew turned up in record time, and as one advanced towards Mimi with the bolt cutters, another questioned Honey on the nature of the issue.

‘So … you chained an elderly woman to the railings with your kinky sex cuffs and then ate the key?’

‘They’re not my kinky sex cuffs,’ Honey tried to explain for a second time.

‘That’s what they all say, love,’ he said with a cheery wink. ‘Although to be fair, these things usually happen in the bedroom, rather than in the street with little old ladies.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m a broad-minded sort of fella.’

On that, Billy ambled up.

‘Alright, chaps?’ he said, slinging an arm around Honey’s shoulders.

Honey smiled gratefully. ‘This is Billy,’ she said. ‘He was the one who chained Mimi to the railings.’

The fireman looked Billy up and down, and then slid his gaze back to Honey. ‘And then you ate the key,’ he said, nodding slowly. ‘Bit of a ménage à trois, as they say.’ He looked incredibly pleased with his own sophistication.

‘Petit pois, mon amigo,’ Billy replied knowledgeably, and Honey turned her eyes to the skies.

‘Any chance you might go and crap that key out, love?’ the firefighter poised over Mimi with the bolt cutters shouted. ‘Last chance before I go in!’

Honey shook her head, mortified by the fact that a couple of journalists still lingered around, laughing openly and scribbling in their notebooks. How had she managed to go from heroine to member of a weird sex trio in the matter of an hour?

‘I’m going to go and check if Mimi’s okay now,’ she said, smoothing her hair.

As she walked away, she distinctly heard the fireman mention the words sugar daddy, and Billy say yes please, two sugars.

Honey sat on the floor outside Hal’s door that evening, her head tipped back against the wall, her jean-clad legs stretched out in front of her. He’d ignored her knock of course, aside from the obligatory curse to confirm he was alive. She hadn’t really expected more, but she’d hoped all the same, because she found that of all the people she knew, he was the only one she wanted to tell about the bizarre afternoon she’d just lived through. She’d been sitting there for almost an hour already, telling him the story, even though he wasn’t interested and most probably wasn’t listening.

‘And then the fire brigade had to be called out to cut Mimi’s cuffs off because I’d swallowed the key and they were stronger than they looked. I mean, you’d imagine they’d be pretty flimsy given that they’re designed for the bedroom, but no, not those ones. God knows where Simon got them from, they were bloody industrial! And of course Nell had scarpered by that point and Mimi gave the firemen the impression that the cuffs were mine, which, given that I’d eaten the key, wasn’t that big a stretch of the imagination really, was it?’

Honey shook her head, remembering the barely concealed laughter on the faces of the firemen.

‘I’ll most probably get the sack. I’d have walked out this afternoon if it wasn’t for the fact that I’d just given my very own war speech; I can hardly desert the troops now, can I? They think I’m some kind of brave heroine who’s going to lead them to victory. Except I’m not brave, Hal, and I’m no one’s heroine. I’m ordinary, quite often stupid, and I’m scared stiff I’m not going to be up to the job.’

On the other side of the door, Hal thought how very, very wrong she was. She was the least ordinary person he’d ever known. Funny, yes, and fearless, yes, but ordinary, never. She just hadn’t realised those things yet.

He wasn’t going to answer her tonight, that much was obvious.

‘I better go in,’ she said after a while. ‘I’m tired Hal, and this one-way conversation thing is wearing me out tonight. Just for the record, I could have done with a friend right now, and I hoped it’d be you. But then I don’t suppose we’re friends, are we really?’

Nothing.

Resigned, Honey went home to curl up in bed and wait for sleep to come and rescue her.

Friday dawned cool and grey, and found Honey knocking off work early to go home and cook bolognese for her hot date with Robin. She’d gone into work full of trepidation that morning, only to find that Christopher was out of the building for a meeting at head office and wasn’t expected back all day. Honey tried not to wonder if he’d been called in as a result of Tuesday’s shenanigans. There would undoubtedly be fallout from their actions, but it seemed that thankfully it was to be staved off for the weekend at least.

Mimi, Lucille and Billy had been waiting for her at the door when she’d arrived at work, presenting her with a fruitcake baked by Patrick and a rousing rendition of ‘For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow’. Much as Honey loved cake and appreciated the support, she left work filled with worry about next week. Lucille followed her to the door.

‘Put it all out of your head for now and have a lovely weekend, dear,’ she said, holding on to Honey’s forearm with a twinkle in her eye. ‘Carpe diem.’

Honey smiled. It was fast becoming Lucille’s catchphrase.

‘Thank you, Lucille. I needed reminding of that today,’ she planted a kiss on the older woman’s cheek. ‘Wish me luck with Robin.’

‘Well, if he doesn’t think you’re wonderful he won’t be worth your efforts,’ Lucille said, and Honey hugged her, especially glad of her loyal support after Hal’s apparent abdication from their friendship.

Making bolognese on her own turned out to be far more stressful than making it with Hal there for guidance. Honey couldn’t quite remember the order things were supposed to go in, and although the end result looked pretty much as it should, it had gone seriously off-piste in the flavour department. Robin certainly wasn’t going to be bowled over by her cooking skills, that much was for sure. Just before five o’clock she nipped to the off-licence for more wine. She’d tipped an extra glass into the bolognese in the hope of adding flavour and ended up with something alcoholic enough to take the roof off an unsuspecting diner’s mouth. The addition of yoghurt to calm it down hadn’t helped much, either. She did a double take when she opened the front door, because Hal was standing in the lobby.

‘Waiting for someone?’ she said casually, still hurt by his latest withdrawal.

‘You,’ he said. ‘I smelled your cooking and thought I’d better ask if you needed any help. I don’t want you killing your date and blaming me.’

Hmm. Honey toyed with refusing his help out of pique, but the bolognese really wasn’t good and he was her only hope of rescuing it.

‘Go on then, you can come in for ten minutes,’ she grumped, letting him know he was still in her bad books. ‘I’ve ballsed it up somehow and I can’t work out what to do.’

Hal followed her into her flat, sniffing the air. ‘It doesn’t smell too bad,’ he offered, and Honey knew enough to realise that was as much of an olive branch as he was likely to offer.

‘Yeah, well. Wait until you taste it.’ She took the lid from the saucepan, spooned a little into a dish, and handed it to Hal. She watched him bring the bowl close to inhale the smell, and then dip the spoon in and test it with a grimace.

‘You haven’t put any salt in,’ he said. ‘No wonder it’s weird.’

‘Salt. Of course,’ Honey said, feeling stupid for missing the most basic of things.

‘Give it a good season and cook it through for another hour or so to really soften the meat and cook off the alcohol. Have you added extra wine?’

Honey flicked the gas on beneath the pan and added salt.

‘Yup. It didn’t help.’

‘No shit.’

‘Nope.’

Silence reigned. As churlish as it was, she didn’t feel like making it easy for him.

‘So, the big date with Robin’s still on then,’ he said, placing the bowl with the failed bolognese carefully on the work surface.

‘Can’t wait,’ Honey clipped.

‘I’ll go then, leave you to beautify.’

‘You do that. And there’s no need to wait up for me tonight, okay?’ she said, and then wished she hadn’t because he was actually trying for once.

‘Just don’t burn the bacon in the morning if he stays over,’ Hal said, already moving towards the door. ‘Knock on my door if you need a condom.’

Honey pulled a face at his back. ‘I’m sure Robin will carry his own protection, should he need it. Which he won’t.’

Hal laughed, and Honey wished he’d turn so she could see his smile.

‘The man still lives with his mother,’ he said. ‘He won’t carry condoms.’

‘Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, because I’m a modern woman. I’ve got my own supply in the bathroom cupboard,’ Honey said, annoyed again, and she followed him down the hall and banged her door shut behind him.

There was a tap on her door a couple of hours later, and Honey knew straight away that it wasn’t Hal because it was quiet and polite, both traits her neighbour didn’t possess.

Well, that was hurdle one jumped – Robin had actually turned up. Honey had swung between mild excitement in case he was wonderful and hoping he didn’t bother to come at all, and she checked her reflection quickly in the hallway mirror as she went to let him in. She’d made an effort; her blonde waves hung loose around her careful no-make-up-look made-up face, and she was wearing her favourite vintage tea dress and high heels. The dress cinched her waist and gave her a cleavage, and the heels gave her confidence and height in case he was another tall guy. Taking a deep breath and opening the door, she immediately wished she’d opted for barefoot, because Robin only came up to her shoulder.

Aside from being vertically challenged, Nell had been quite right about his hair being a feature. There was just so much of it, and it seemed to grow in all directions in Leo Sayer-style curls.

He thrust a bunch of flowers at her and grinned.

‘You must be Honeysuckle. Fabulous name, darling!’

Honey accepted the flowers, noticing that they were actually gorgeous, awarding him extra points because they included honeysuckle, which wasn’t an easy thing to pull off in a bouquet. She smiled and swung the door wide for him to come in, hurriedly kicking off her shoes and flicking them into her bedroom as she followed him along the hallway. That was better. They were pretty much the same height now; all wasn’t lost, although that hair was going to take some getting used to.

‘And you must be Robin,’ she said, waving for him to sit down on the sofa as she dug out a vase for the flowers. ‘Nell tells me you teach music.’

He nodded, and his hair seemed to move independently of his head.

‘Love it,’ he said. ‘Music is in my bones.’ He flung his arms wide and burst into the opening lines of Abba’s ‘Thank you for the Music’, complete with jazz hands. A huge belly laugh erupted from him as he finished, and Honey found herself relaxing and started to laugh with him. Robin was a funny guy. Maybe this was going to be a good evening after all.

‘I hope you’re not vegetarian, I made bolognese,’ she said, and he rubbed his round tummy beneath the straining wool of his pullover.

‘It’s my absolute favourite,’ he declared. ‘Besides chicken madras. And lasagne. And my mother’s lime cheesecake.’ He wagged his finger at her like a guest on Jerry Springer. ‘Don’t you judge me,’ he drawled in a dead-on Deep South accent, and then that sunshine laughter erupted from him again.

‘Well?’ she said a few minutes later, having watched him theatrically twirl his fork into the heaped plate of spaghetti she’d placed in front of him and then close his eyes while he savoured his first mouthful.

His eyes pinged wide open again in shock. ‘Should I just give up and join Alcoholics Anonymous now, my darling?’ He put his cutlery down and clutched at his throat, laughing, and then flapped his hands for her to sit back down when she reached for the water jug.

‘It’s fine, it’s fine. I like a woman who’s serious about her drink.’

He wiped at his eyes, and Honey was unsure if he was damp eyed from laughing or because of the food. Testing it gingerly herself, she suspected the latter. How could it have turned out so perfectly when Hal had been around and so badly without him? Even the addition of salt hadn’t managed to rescue it.

‘I’m sorry, Robin. I’m not sure what went wrong,’ she said, poking half-heartedly at her dinner.

‘I think you’re supposed to add meat to the wine,’ he said dryly, gamely scooping up another mouthful. ‘It’s really not that bad once you get going.’ He waved his fork towards her plate. ‘Eat up. We’ll be drunk as lords in no time and I’ll be able to have my wicked way with you.’

Honey giggled and did as he’d suggested, sensing from the twinkle in his merry eyes that Robin’s wicked way was more likely to involve belting out Kylie hits on karaoke than kinky sex.

Nell must have known that Robin was never going to be Honey’s type in the romantic sense, yet still the evening turned out to be one of the best she could remember in quite some time. As she cleared away their dessert plates, Honey quizzed him more on his piano skills.

‘By rights I shouldn’t really be able to play the piano with these sausage fingers, but I can. I get it from my mother. She’s as round as a watermelon and yet she plays the piano like a light-fingered woodland nymph. It’s the same with dancing – we’re both as light as feathers on our toes.’ He lifted his foot and circled it in Honey’s direction, revealing rainbow-striped socks. ‘You haven’t seen anyone line dance until you’ve seen
me
line dance.’