Largo
Two days later, Penny was on the phone to Jeff, "I think we might have made a breakthrough here, Jeff," she said. She paused, recalling Amanda's description of the previous evening – how Virgil had sat for most of the first part of the concert leaning over the edge of the box, watching the musicians below, and the antics of the Promenaders. At the start of the second piece (Shostakovich's Piano Concerto No.2) he had kept his eyes fixed on the pianist. She had looked at him again during the second, slow movement to see that he was resting his chin on his hands and his eyes were half shut. At the end of that movement he had heaved a great sigh 'Just as if' Amanda had said, 'a great weight had slipped from his shoulders.' Penny continued "All day he's been at the piano trying to play the piece he heard last night."
"Well, get it for him then!" exclaimed Jeff.
"We've already ordered it – it should be here tomorrow."
"Great. Do you think it worth my sending some more of his music over, and his backing machine?"
"I don't see why not – it can't do any harm. But, Jeff, it's just lovely to have a glimpse of the 'old' Virgil again, instead of that morose young man who arrived here."
"He's not giving you a hard time?" queried Jeff. Virgil didn't often get bad moods, which was why the change since his recent injury had been so worrying.
"Don't worry, Jeff, it's nothing I can't cope with." She paused, "and my old friend Amanda seems to be helping a bit too."
"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow, "anything going on I should know about?"
"I don't know, Jeff – too soon to say. I think they're just enjoying each other's company at the moment." She looked round, "I can hear him coming down the stairs, so I'd better go. Good night, or rather, good morning in your time!"
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