What Sweet Music They Make

Excerpt

Copyright 2011, Nerine Dorman
All rights reserved, Lyrical Press, Inc.

“Want to talk about it?” Jim rumbled. They were almost in Observatory now. Jim indicated to turn down past Groote Schuur Hospital. He hated taking the shortcut through Lower Main Road.

“It’s Robert. And...Caitlin.” She couldn’t bring herself to elaborate.

Jim squeezed her shoulder a bit more firmly. “Ah, bairn, that is just horrible. Did you... Now?”

Tersia nodded. “They were so busy with each other they didn’t even hear me come in. And I forgot my cellphone. Again.” This last thought brought on a fresh wave of sobs.

Her companion gave a deep sigh. “Well, there’s only one thing that will fix this, a nice glass of red and some music.”

“I don’t think I can play tonight.”

“This is where I disagree. I think you should. It will help soothe your heart. And we’ll stick to some of the livelier reels and jigs. Not all the sad stuff.”

“Really, Jim. It’s not a good idea. I need to figure out what I’ll do.”

“I know exactly what we’re going to do. We’re going to have a good night then you and me are going to get the rest of the group and we’re going to turf that no-good piece-of-filth boyfriend out of your apartment. You’re not in this alone, dearie. Your friends are right here. Besides, Kate’s been aching for months to kick his butt since he was rude to her sister.”

Tersia peered at Jim through her fingers. “He was rude to Kate’s sister?”

“We didn’t want to say anything because you’d just moved in with him, and he had been drunk at the time, but he’d made advances on her when it’s clear she’s not into guys.”

“You should have said something.”

Jim’s expression brooked no argument and Tersia sank back into her seat and wiped at her eyes.

Jim found parking at the far end of Pepper Square and waited for Tersia to reapply her liner.

“I look like I’ve just been punched in the face,” Tersia said. She’d clutch at any excuse but knew her friend would remain implacable.

“It’s dark inside. No one will notice. You just go sit with the others and I’ll organize you a glass of wine. We’ll give everyone the low-down but you’re so playing tonight.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Why are you being so insistent?” Tersia wanted nothing more than to punch Jim but settled for clenching the seat instead.

“Because in all the excitement of this evening, I haven’t had a chance to tell you we’ve got a big paying gig on Saturday eve, and this is the last opportunity for us to play together before then. You are playing, Tersia. And then we’re going to sort out that sorry sack of shit that’s your soon-to-be-erstwhile boyfriend, and you’re going to put on a brave face because you’re better than him. No matter how much dross you’re dealing with, I won’t see you slip into a bad space because of a man and a supposed best friend who’re not good enough for you.”

Somehow, despite the horror of what she’d just discovered, Jim’s words bolstered her and Tersia managed a faint smile for the old man. Although her hands still shook when she helped him carry their instruments up to the venue, she took a deep, steadying breath, straightened her spine and tried to walk as though Robert’s dishonesty hadn’t stained her soul.