At the front of the coach, Lydia sat with Karl-Heinz, talking non-stop about Milan.
“D’you think he’ll be all right on his own?” she asked for the dozenth time.
Karl-Heinz shook his head and smiled distractedly.
“Lydia…he is a grown-up. He can spend a long weekend by himself now and again.”
“But the timing’s so bad…just when we were…starting to all get along.”
She blushed at her euphemism. ‘Getting along’ wasn’t the half of it. They’d been making such good progress along this ménage learning curve, though, and it seemed a pity to stop just when things were going so well.
“We’ve got all the time in the world, Liebchen. All the time in the world.”
But there was a twinkle in Karl-Heinz’s eye that she didn’t entirely trust. What did he have planned?
* * * *
Having dumped their bags in their respective rooms, the players congregated in the hotel lobby, forming into groups and cliques in which to go out and explore the city before tomorrow’s day of exhaustive rehearsal followed by the concert.
Vanessa, appearing to actually run away from Ben, grasped hold of Lydia’s hand.
“Come to the Thomaskirche with me?” she pleaded. “You know, where Bach was cantor. You’ll want to see it, won’t you?”
“Oh—well, I’d love to but…” She saw Ben cutting his way through the swarm of people and leaned closer, speaking in a lower voice. “He’s desperate to talk to you. Shouldn’t you hear him out?”
“What, an apology and a ‘no hard feelings’? I’m not ready to move on, Lydia. I’d rather save myself the pain just now.”
“So you’d take him back?”
“Like a bloody shot.”
“Then talk to him.”
“I’m scared to—oh.”
Ben stood behind Vanessa’s shoulder now and he laid a hand on her upper arm.
“Ness,” he said urgently. “At last I’ve made it within three feet of you. Say no if you want but would you come to the Christmas market with me? A bit of a chat over some Glühwein? Please?”
“Oh, well, I would but I’ve promised to go to the Thomaskirche with Lydia…”
“It’s fine,” said Lydia, but Vanessa spoke loudly over her.
Karl-Heinz called for Lydia over the heads of the crowd.
“Oh—excuse me,” she said, trotting over.
Vanessa, left alone for a moment with Ben, felt like doubling over and crouching on the floor, away from the possibility of too much being said.
“You could meet up with her later,” said Ben hopefully. “Or—I’d like to see the Thomaskirche. And the other one. And the place, you know, that underground bar in Faust. Just thought you might like the market first. Oh, and there’s the Gewandhaus, but we’ll be there tomorrow, of course, so perhaps just the churches.”
Oh God, his nervous patter was making her want to fling her arms around him and hold his head against her shoulder. Danger was in the air.
Lydia relieved her, but not for long.
“Sorry, Ness, Karl-Heinz wants to take me somewhere, but he won’t say where. It’s all a bit cloak-and-dagger, but apparently we have to go now or we’re going to miss something vital. Can we do the churches another time?”
“Oh…”