‘It’s odd how natural it seems to be talking to you alone like this. You haven’t changed a bit. I always remember you listening so solemnly and staring at me. I’m so glad I’ve found you again. I could always talk to you.’
‘At me,’ she corrected.
He made a face at her, but looked cheerful. She had always known how near the edge to venture without upsetting him. He hummed his little tune again, then played it on the piano.
‘I think I made that up.... It’s rather a nice little tune. Perhaps I’ll take up my music seriously again.’
‘Oh, you must, Julian. It is so well worth it: such a special talent.’
He looked at her with sudden attention.
‘How old are you, Judith?’
‘Seventeen. Nearly eighteen.’
He studied her.
‘You must put your hair up.’