music. Then I didn’t see him anymore because I had closed my eyes and stopped trying to lead.
When the tape clicked off and I opened my eyes Schmidt was gone. I heard the front door close softly.
John inspected the room with a wary eye.
‘She’s in the kitchen,’ I said. ‘Could I interest you in a game of pinochle?’
He always knew what I was thinking. ‘Tomorrow. After we’ve walked the dog and done the washing up. I’ll even attempt to establish a truce with that man-eating cat of yours. At the moment, however . . .’
‘You can lead.’
‘I intend to. This time.’
He took the ribbon from my hair.
There would be a next time. And at least one tomorrow. I’d settle for that. One is all any of us can count on.
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