‘Of course, of course. Good to see you, Mrs Cranley. If you’d like to follow me I’ll make some space for you up front.’
‘Oh, no no no, please.’ Tati sounded mortified. ‘Don’t disturb anyone. I’ll slip in at the back.’
The manager tried to protest but Tati insisted. ‘Really. Jason would prefer it that way, anyway. He doesn’t know I’m here. I wouldn’t want to throw him off stride.’
Sliding into a tiny table at the very back of the room, it took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. The room was packed, and loud, with people drinking and dining and socializing while the musicians performed. Jason was playing some sort of complicated freestyle number, accompanied by a saxophonist. Secretly Tati loathed this sort of jazz. Atonal, fast-moving and loud, it sounded to her as if a cat were being strangled. But Jason was clearly in his element, eyes closed, head rocking, his entire upper body swaying to the music. Tati watched as he leaned into the keyboard, a look of ecstasy on his face, then swung up and out and away, like a surfer riding some imaginary wave of sound.
The saxophonist, who was black and looked to be in his early seventies, was if anything in an even deeper state of bliss, his elderly body jerking around in paroxysms of musical pleasure. Tatiana could hear her father’s clipped vowels in her head, as if he were sitting next to her. ‘The poor fellow looks like he’s got St Vitus’s dance.’ She smiled to think how vehemently Rory would have disapproved – of the music, of Jason, of everything. And yet had it not been for her father reneging on her inheritance, she would never have met Jason, or any of the Cranleys. How strange life was.
She ordered a double gin and tonic, and was mentally calculating how much longer she was going to have to sit through this cacophony, when something caught her eye. In the very front row, a man, sitting alone, was on his feet, swaying to the beat and applauding wildly as Jason reached the end of a brief piano solo. Tati watched as Jason opened his eyes and beamed back, acknowledging the man’s applause. It was only for a split second, but his face looked utterly transfixed, suffused with happiness in a way that Tati didn’t think she’d ever seen it before. That in turn made Tati happy. But her broad grin was replaced by a lurch of surprise when the man in the front row turned and she saw who it was.
A few moments later, she weaved her way down to join him, slipping into the empty seat at his side.
‘George!’ she said warmly. ‘How sweet of you to come. Do you know, I hardly recognized you in those trousers. How trendy you look!’
For a moment George Wilkes’s face froze in shock. Then he forced a smile. ‘Tatiana. I didn’t expect … I mean … I didn’t know you were coming tonight.’
‘Last-minute decision,’ she shrugged. ‘Where’s Maddie?’
‘Erm, she’s at home. With the children.’
Is he blushing? Tati was confused. It was unlike George to be so awkward. He was normally such a smoothie, with the right line for every occasion. Perhaps he feels embarrassed because of his clothes? Tati knew George Wilkes as a slightly scruffy, corduroys and brogues man, but tonight he was looking unusually dapper in tight drainpipe jeans and Doc Marten boots, paired with a seventies-style floral shirt, open to the top of his chest. He actually looked good, just … different.
‘It’s so sweet of you to come and support Jason,’ she said. She had to lean in very close to make herself her heard. Her lips were almost touching George’s ear.
‘Not at all,’ said George, regaining a little of his usual composure. ‘It’s the least I could do. Besides, I love jazz.’
‘Do you?’ Tatiana raised an eyebrow. ‘I must say, George, you are a dark horse. I always had you down as a classical man.’
Glancing up, Jason saw his friend and his wife together. He briefly registered his surprise at Tati’s presence, then smiled at the two of them. It wasn’t quite the rapturous grin Tati had witnessed a few minutes ago. But it was enough to tell her he was pleased to see her.
She was glad she’d made the effort; glad she’d taken Queen Bee’s advice. Perhaps it was easier to make Jason happy than she’d realized?
In the cab on the way home she took a step further and leaned into her husband, resting her head on his shoulder and her hand on his knee.
‘You were wonderful, darling,’ she enthused. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Good,’ said Jason. ‘Tired. Relieved. Good.’ He smiled shyly. His face was flushed from heat and exertion and his hair was damp and stiff with sweat.
‘Were you surprised I came?’
‘Very,’ said Jason, truthfully.
‘Were you happy?’
‘Of course.’ He stroked her hair, gazing out of the window at the Soho streets, still crammed and buzzing with people at almost two a.m.
‘And what about George Wilkes?’ said Tati. ‘How adorable of him to come and see you. I couldn’t believe it when I spotted him in the front row, jiving away like a teenager.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Jason.