The Song

Part Three

FLASHBACK

Four Years Earlier

I sat at the piano, tinkering away at the keys. It’s what I always did when I was bored and there was no one in the shop. Which was actually quite often. I wasn’t supposed to be playing while on the job, I’d been told off hundreds of times for it. But I just couldn’t help myself, I loved to play.

A cough behind me startled me out of my song. Quickly I pulled my hands away from the keys and turned to see who was behind me.

And then my heart stopped.

Of course I knew who he was, but I never in a million years expected to see him standing in the little music shop I worked in. Never.

“Hi,” I said quietly, “Can I help you find something?”
“You work here?” he asked me.

“Yeah.”

He just nodded his head lightly, looking around the store. I stood up from the piano bench and stepped away from it a few steps, smoothing my light purple skirt gently. “Are you looking for anything in particular?” I asked after a moment.
“No,” he said, shaking his head back in forth.

“Oh, well then can I help you figure out what you’re looking for?”

“Can you play another song?” he asked.

“Sorry?”
“You play beautifully,” he smiled. My heart melted at his smile. I’d heard he was a charmer, but I didn’t believe it until I saw his smile.

“Thank you.”
“Please, play something else?”

“What do you want to hear?” I asked, moving back towards the bench and sitting down.

“Anything,” he said, “Something you enjoy playing.”

“Ok,” I said, my fingers dancing over the keys as I thought up what to play. Without really thinking I began running through an etude that I’d long ago memorized, my fingers whizzing up and down the length of the piano. It wasn’t really a song, more of an exercise. But it was one of my favorites.

When the song was finished I moved my hands into my lap, turning to stare at him.
“Gorgeous,” he smiled.

My heartbeat picked up again. What was he doing to me?

“Do you play piano?” I asked.

“No,” he said with a frown, “I wish I could though.”

“It’s not that hard.”

“Do you teach?”

“Yeah,” I said with a nod, “But all of my students are less than ten years old.”

“Oh. You wouldn’t make an exception?” he asked cheekily.

“I have a feeling, Aston Merrygold, that there are far better musicians you can get to teach you to play.”

“Ah, so you do know who I am.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” I asked.

“I guess,” he shrugged, moving to touch the keys of another piano on display.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, “Not to be rude or anything.”

“I’m looking for inspiration,” he said, “I’ve got… writer’s block I guess.”

“So you came to a music shop?”

“Just looking for ideas,” he said off-handedly, distracted by a display of electric guitars along the wall.

“I’m sure staring at instruments will just make a melody come to you,” I said wryly.

“Maybe,” he winked.

I bit my lip and then rolled my eyes, the little bell of the shop door tinkling in the distance. “I should…” I said, nodding towards the customer that had walked into the store and straight to the main counter.

“Go on.”

I went to serve the customer, watching Aston wander around the store and inspect the different instruments out of the corner of my eye. Before I could sidle back over to him to continue our chat, he was gone.

The thing was, though, I knew he’d be back.