Free Lime Street Blues by Maureen Lee

get square eyes.’
    ‘I can’t play all
that
well,’ Jeannie said bashfully.
    ‘Let’s see how well you can. You’ve nearly finished tea, so play something for us. There’s a piano in the upstairs parlour.’
    ‘She’s not here to entertain you, Marcia!’ Elaine was even more irritated. ‘I don’t ask
your
friends to put on a show, not that you’ve got many.’
    ‘I don’t mind.’ Jeannie was anxious to avoid a row. She’d play
Minuet in G
, one of the first real pieces she’d learned. Nowadays, she was able to include several of her own little flourishes. She ate the remainder of the meal and asked to be shown the piano. Despite her bashfulness, she could play well and was keen to impress Marcia.
    The parlour was large and shabby, and the piano had been sadly neglected. She ran her fingers along the yellowing keys; it urgently needed tuning.
    ‘Don’t you need music?’ Elaine asked.
    ‘Not for this. I know it by heart.’ Her father often asked her to play for visitors. Jeannie had no ambition to become a professional pianist. She enjoyed playing, but it wasn’t a passion. Even so, if she was in the mood, she was able to put real feeling into a tune. She did so now, playing the gentle melody with the image in her head of crinolined ladies and men with powdered wigs bowing and curtseying to each other before beginning their minuet.
    To her astonishment, she was halfway through, when she found herself being accompanied on a violin. A boy, very like Elaine, appeared beside her, grinning, a violin tucked under his chin, wielding the bow with great enthusiasm. It could only be Lachlan, who’d never read a book. She grinned back, and they managed to finish together, at exactly the same time.
    Elaine and Marcia laughed and clapped their hands, and Marcia demanded they play something else.
    ‘Do you know this?’ Lachlan closed his eyes and began to play a haunting tune she’d never heard before. Jeannie watched. The sleeves of his grey shirt were rolled up, revealing slight, suntanned arms. Taller than Max by at least six inches, his face was slightly leaner than his sister’s, his mouth thinner and wider, curled in a slightsmile. He was quite clearly lost in the music. She realised guiltily that she’d been watching for far too long and hoped no one had noticed. With one hand, she began to pick out the notes then, gaining confidence, added the bass. She thought she’d made an adequate job of things by the time they’d finished.
    ‘What was that?’ she asked.
    ‘ “Love Me Tender”.’ Lachlan’s brown eyes sparkled with amusement. ‘It’s an Elvis Presley song.’
    When Jeannie said she’d never heard of Elvis Presley, Marcia screamed, ‘Honestly, Jeannie! You can’t be real.
Everyone’s
heard of Elvis Presley.’
    ‘
I
haven’t, but I love his song.’
    ‘It’s from a film of the same name,’ Lachlan said. ‘It’s on at the Plaza the week after next. Why don’t you come to see it with me and Marcia?’
    ‘Only if Elaine comes too.’
    ‘I’ll go if you go, Jeannie.’
    ‘I would have loved to hear you and Lachlan play together,’ Rose said wistfully when Jeannie told her what had happened. ‘It would be like having a little concert in our own home.’
    Jeannie had an idea. ‘Why not ask Elaine and Lachlan to tea, and Marcia, I suppose, though I don’t like her much. They could come next Sunday, while the weather’s still nice. I can meet them at the station.’
    ‘I’ll see what your dad has to say.’
    At first, Tom regarded the request with suspicion. ‘How old is Lachlan?’ he enquired of his daughter.
    ‘Fourteen.’
    ‘Hmm!’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t like the idea of you being involved with lads at your age. You’re only eleven.’
    ‘Oh,
Dad
! We played a duet, that’s all. And I’ll be twelve in December.’ It would be best not to admit she felt quite enthusiastic about seeing Lachlan again. He was the first boy she’d ever
noticed
out of the