She's Putting Garden Waste Into The Food...

This was my song. Something I’d sent him on a whim, never thinking I would hear it played, not by him! His warm, rich voice softly sang the words I’d given him –a gift to me, yet offered unwittingly, without knowing I could both see and hear. As the words died away and the crowd showed their appreciation, I hid my tearstruck eyes and looked away. When I raised them again, he was standing by my table, a wide smile crinkling his face. ‘Pardon me,’ he began. I could see him hesitating, wondering why he felt compelled to speak to an unknown woman. ‘I guess I just thought I’d apologise for staring at you earlier. You’ve not been to a session before have you?’ I shook my head. I could see his eyes searching my face, taking in my long green velvet skirt ad the matching velvet ribbon at my throat. The ribbon was his present for my birthday two months before. ‘I have a friend, the one who wrote that last song. She looks so much like you, I thought for a moment….’ His voice trailed away. ‘You. ‘No,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I would have remembered you. You’re not the kind of person one forgets easily.’ She looked at me, her face serious, her eyes smiling. I cursed myself quietly for being so indiscreet. Before I got married, I fooled around with a couple of women, nothing serious, but I still thought about them sometimes. Brenda would certainly be a kind of a woman I would want to mess around with. Providing neither of us was married. I knew Mike wouldn’t stand for it, and although I didn’t know Jahan, I suspected he was the same. Did I just hit on my husband’s friend’s wife? Of course I did. Did she notice? By the looks of it, she did. And from what I could see, she didn’t mind. I sighed in relief. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment, Nikkie.’ She said and I nodded. ‘So, what’s your real name?’ she asked and I cringed. I never liked to be called by my given name, which was usually used by my parents when I did something wrong. ‘Nicola.’ I said. ‘But, please don’t call.
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