Barbra

"I think so. I certainly don't dislike him. He's very different from Mike. I'd like to have your opinion, right?"

Em smiled. "For what it's worth," she said. "Okay?"

"Yes please."

Then they changed the subject, to Barbra's relief. Em had brought a CD and they went from the kitchen into the living room and sat talking while they listened to the music together. To Barbra's surprise it was no hip hop but country, someone called Tim McGraw. She hadn't heard of him, but she rather liked the album, what she heard of it.

After the music and a glass of wine they went to bed; Emily had done a lot of driving that day, and she was quite tired.

The next afternoon they drove to the venue. Barbra was looking forward to seeing John again, and her sister seemed in a great mood. She sat back with a big smile on her face. Good!

John was waiting for them in the car park -- a field that had been designated as such -- with Beau, whom Barbra hardly recognised. He was dressed to the nines, without a cap, and he didn't have any tattoos any more. When she had hugged John and greeted Beau, and duly introduced Emily, she looked at Beau inquisitively.

He grinned a little. "You will want to know about my change of looks?" he said.

Barbra blushed. "Erm, yes," she said. "You do look very different today!"

Beau nodded. "It was one of these wagers, you know -- I hate that kind of dress and rough image, and at my work we had organised a charity drive in which we tried to raise money by taking up a wager. Well, that's why. The tattoos were henna, actually."

"They did fool me completely. You looked very convincing!"

"He's nicknamed Beau because he always dresses well, you know," John said. He looked at Beau as though it were a silly thing to do.

Barbra smiled at Beau, though. So that was what Mary and Joan had meant. She was amused to see Emily cast admiring looks at him. He was quite a handsome man in his nice clothes and without the baseball cap -- well-groomed and well-mannered.

"You do like jazz?" Beau asked. "I had to talk a while before I managed to make John come along."

"That's not true!" John protested.

Beau shrugged. "All right," he said.

Barbra thought it might well be true. John had not seemed to be too enthusiastic about jazz at their first date. But she was determined to give him the benefit of doubt, and the four of them walked over to the entrance.

John produced the tickets, and they entered the grounds. They walked up to have a look at the stage, where the sound people were still applying the final touches to their work. Some time to wait. Barbra looked around and saw Joan and Mary get past the ticket counter. They noticed the four of them and waved.

"Please excuse me for a moment," she said. "I will just go and say hello!"

She walked over to her friends, followed closely by Emily. They were greeted by the other girls enthusiastically, and stood talking for a couple of minutes. Then they went back to the men.

The grounds were filling up fast. On their way across they passed a man in a red sweater who said hello to Emily. She looked at him disdainfully. "Hello Mr Mud," she said. "So you are here, too? You'll probably claim to be a jazz buff..."

Then she walked on without waiting for an answer. No answer was forthcoming, however. The man, who seemed to be rather nonplussed by Em's reaction, stood looking at her vanishing form in silence. Then he shrugged and shook his head.

Barbra, who came a little behind her sister, heard the exchange. She looked at the man who stood motionlessly watching Emily walk away and she stepped up to him. "Hello," she said, looking at him hard. "What on earth did you do to my sister for her to act like that? Give her the N-word, or what?"

For a moment the man seemed to freeze completely. He looked at her wide-eyed. "God forbid," he said. "All I did was try to help her."

He shook his head again. He didn't further specify what he'd done, but Barbra knew her sister well enough to know there might be any reason within herself for her behaviour. She decided she would take his word, and said with a smile, "So -- do you consider yourself a jazz buff?"

He made a face. "Oh no, not at all. I'd have to enjoy Johnny Griffin and John Coltrane in their more difficult phases, I guess. I understand Count Basie's definition of jazz a lot better, I'm afraid."

Barbra smiled. Her father had told her. "Tap your foot," she said.

The man smiled back at her. "Yes. I'm afraid I prefer the early big bands, with a blown bass if half possible. Tubas, or a sarrusophone..."

"Ellington. And Mandy Make Up Your Mind!" Barbra said.

"Yes -- or Tiny Parham, for example."

Barbra looked at him in surprise and sighed. "I know him, too," she said. "My father used to have a couple of 78s by his band. There was a fire that destroyed his collection. I never heard them again - never expected to hear anyone talk about him."

"I do like him. I've got his early sides on CD," the man said.

"Aw, that's nice! So they are available again?"

"I think the series was discontinued. I can copy them for you if you like. If you don't mind giving me your address?"

Barbra looked at him and considered for a moment. He actually looked rather nice; he had a pleasant smile. "No, I don't. Oh, yes please. That would be great," she said.

She gave her address to the man who introduced himself as Andrew. Then she wished him a good time, excused herself and rejoined the others.

Emily frowned at her for a moment, but she refrained from commenting because Beau was talking to her and she enjoyed listening to him. He looked at her as if he liked what he saw, and Barbra wondered if Em noticed -- and if so, if she was happy with it.

She thought it was alright, though -- the two of them were talking animatedly and they were quite clearly immersed in one another. John noticed, too, and smiled.

"Let's go closer to the stage," he said. Barbra hooked her arm in his.

There was a bar in the grounds with a couple of tables and chairs, but the area in front of the stage was kept open for everyone who wanted to stand and tap their feet.

"Is your sister easily bowled over?"

"On the contrary. I don't think she ever talked to boys for more than ten minutes -- she's very critical to say the least."

"So Beau's good looks -- "

"No, that's not it. There were lots of handsome men before. But there never was a spark. I like seeing this; she's usually negative about men in the extreme."

"Okay. Well, who knows?"

They smiled at each other, and found a good place to watch the bands.

The first two bands were small combos that sounded as if they had listened a lot to Chris Barber. They played quite well, though, and Barbra enjoyed it very much. She cast glances at Beau and Emily now and then. They stood listening a little further down, looking at the stage at times but apparently at least as interested in each other. Nice, she thought. And then she suddenly realised that they already seemed to be much more into each other than John and she were. He'd invited her here and she felt she was neglecting him.

She looked at John and smiled. "Do you like it?" she said.

"It's something different," he said. "I can't say I've ever listened to this kind of music. But it is alright. I wish it would swing a little, though."

Barbra shook her head. She clearly had to explain a little about swing -- but that could wait. Music first! Her father would have liked it a lot, she thought. They'd gone to a concert together once or twice...

She was wondering what to say next when John's phone went off. He had R Kelly's I Believe I Can Fly for a ringtone. Better than Ludacris, Barbra thought. John took the phone from his pocket and walked a little distance away from the music. Barbra looked at him. Strange, she thought. In her memory he had an iPhone, but this was a Samsung, obviously. Maybe she remembered wrong?

The call didn't last too long, and John rejoined her as the second combo stopped playing. The band took their applause and left the stage and the sound people rigged up the stage for the final act; a much bigger band.

"So what do you think swings?"

"Rap... Rock 'n roll, you know... that sorta thing, I guess. This is strange music, Bee."

Barbra raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "I don't think it is. I love it."

John nodded. "It's a little intellectual, isn't it? Not too much feeling."

Barbra sighed. She really would have to educate John a little. "I wish my father could have told you about it, and let you listen. I don't think you're right."

"Dunno. Hey, I'm thirsty. How about a beer?"

"Yes, please!"

He walked off to collect some drinks, and Barbra walked over to the others.

Emily beamed at her. "Hi," she said. "Thank you for taking me here! I haven't enjoyed myself so much for ages. Nice, eh?"

"Yes! John thinks it doesn't swing."

Beau grinned and shook his head. "I don't think it's his style," he said.

To Barbra's surprise, Em said, "Father used to play this kind of music a lot -- we were raised on it."

She nodded. "It's good memories among other things."

"I picked up jazz myself. My father played calypso, and Harry Belafonte. But I like those, too."

"Yes," Emily said. "So do I."

She smiled at Beau and Barbra grinned inwardly. It looked as if Em was trying to make a good impression on him. Now there was something new indeed!

John returned with four beers in a cardboard holder, and the conversation stopped while they stood enjoying their drinks.

The stage, meanwhile, was ready and the final act got up to play. To Barbra's delight the bass slot was taken up by a bass sax instead of a plucked bass, and when the band started to play she was transported back to the years when her father was alive. They played a good selection of twenties and thirties jazz, and they had the audience move to the music with goofy smiles.

When the band played a tune in triple time John asked Barbra to dance, and he held her close while they did. Barbra highly enjoyed feeling his body close to her, warm and supple, but when John lowered a hand to squeeze her bottom she stiffened.

"Please, John," she said. "Give me some time."

John nodded. "Okay, Bee -- I'm just trying to give you a good time. You've got a great booty." He smiled, and held her again without being too intrusive.

Barbra smiled through the rest of their dance, and she was a little disappointed when the next piece was in quadruple time again, and the dancing stopped.

"Pity," she said with a half-smile. But the music was wonderful, and she forgot her disappointment almost at once.

The concert was over much too soon to her liking. To her surprise it was past seven already; time to go home. She thank John for taking her, and embraced him and kissed his cheek. They arranged to meet again soon, and so did Emily and Beau.

Driving home Barbra listened to Emily enthuse about Beau with a smile on her face. She wished her sister might find some rest and happiness in her life; and she suspected this might well do the trick.

"The concert was great, wasn't it?" she said.

"It was. Father would've liked it, too!" Em said. "I do miss him, you know."

Barbra nodded. She knew exactly what Em meant.

Then Em said, "What did you say to that man?"

"Mr Mud? Oh, we talked about music. He promised to send me some copies. His name is Andrew, by the way."

"You don't mean to say you gave him your address?"

Barbra nodded. "Why not?"

"My! You'll end up killed in your sleep with a slit throat!"

"Oh, come on! Don't be daft!"

"White men," Em said portentously. "Mark my words!"

6 - Two Telephone Calls

When Barbra arrived home from work that Wednesday afternoon she found a parcel in the letterbox. There was no addressee, just a postcode and house number. When she opened it she found a couple of CDs inside. Two of them were by Tiny Parham. The photocopied covers read The Chronogical Tiny Parham. Chronogical? She opened a box and took out the leaflet. Inside there were the discographical details -- the recordings were presented strictly chronologically. The other two were one by Clarence Williams' Blue Five and the Red Onion Jazz Babies and one featuring some obscure twenties stuff.

There was a note, too, that read,

Dear Ms. Laing,

I hope you'll like the music in here. The Chronogical (sic!) Classics series was a French label that issued lots of the music we talked about.

Yours,

Andrew

So it was a French mistake, she thought with a grin. She took the CDs into the kitchen, and while she was cooking she listened to the first of the two Parham CDs. There were quite a few songs she recognised; they had been on her father's 78s and she hummed along as she cleaned the vegetables. The music made her think of old times, and her father's face appeared in her mind's eye. It seemed as if he nodded his approval. Nice, er, dad? she thought to herself with a smile. The CD was nice and long; she was halfway dinner before it ended. She took it out, put the third one in the CD player and selected Mandy Make Up Your Mind. She sat listening to it with a broad grin as Sidney Bechet's sarrusophone growled behind Eva Taylor's vocals. Then she stopped the CD and pressed play to listen from the start.

Half way the CD her cell phone rang. It was Em, who came to tell her that Beau had invited her for a meal at the local French restaurant the coming weekend. She sounded elated and excited, and Barbra let her rattle on undisturbed for some time. Then she asked her how she'd liked the concert, and Em was jubilant about it.

Barbra smiled. She'd never known her sister be enthusiastic about a guy, and this was a marvellous change.

Suddenly Em stopped. "Hey," she said. "What are you listening to? I think I recognise it -- didn't father have this?"

"Em! I never knew you listened!"

"I did. But I didn't want to admit I liked that stuff, not to you or dad. I sometimes played some of his music when you were out."

"Okay. Gosh. I wish I'd known. It's Eva Taylor."

"Mmm, nice! You know, Beau said..."

Barbra sat back and listened, and wondered at the change in her sister. She'd always thought the tantrums and fits of anger were not really about her, and now she wondered if they'd been the result of some terrible loneliness and uncertainty she'd not been able to break through.

"You really like Beau, don't you?" she said. "We never talked about it, but did you ever have any boyfriends before?"

It appeared Em hadn't. She was rather wary of people, and she told Barbra that once Mike had come into the picture she'd always compared the men she met to him; and they invariably fell short. Beau now...

While she sat listening to her sister's happy talk Barbra wondered a little about her feelings toward John. She didn't feel remotely as brimming over with his presence as Em did. She thought she was probably even more reserved than her twin sister; her relationship with Mike had almost organically grown from a shared enthusiasm to the best, most loving marriage she could have wished, and now any other man had to pass muster according to Mike's cloth.

Oh well. She had world enough, and time. Or did she?

Em's call lasted a long time, and Barbra really enjoyed listening to her talk and talk. Eventually she told Em how glad she felt for her.

"Thank you, Barb -- I'm so happy!"

They rang off, and Barbra took out the CD and put the second Parham CD into the player. Almost immediately after she'd pressed the play button her phone beeped again.

"Hello? It's me. My, you can talk for a long time!"

"Yes. It was Em. We often talk for a long time. She is all the family I have, you know."

"Ok. Mmm. I don't know. Family? Parents and stuff? I hardly ever contact my siblings."

"Well, she's really important to me."

"I know. What are you doing?"

"I'm listening to music." Barbra held the phone close to the CD player.

"Okay. I thought it was cats fighting. Joke, no offence meant."

"None taken. You don't really know twenties music, do you?"

"No. I prefer today's things. I have no use for the past. Hey, girl, can I buy you a meal in the pub next Saturday?"

Barbra accepted eagerly. It would be nice to talk face to face again, and there were many things she would like to know. She did have some use for the past, and she wondered what exactly John meant. He was interesting and attentive, and he could be very sweet alright. But sometimes, somehow, he really felt a little alien. She listened to the CD while contemplating her feelings for Mike, and John, and comparing the way Em behaved to her own slightly reserved manner. Maybe she should try and put that aside? She wasn't sure, but going out would be nice. Better wait and see, she thought, and she resolutely stopped worrying and turned up the music. Lovely!

7 - New Contacts

It was a beautiful Friday. Wednesdays and Fridays were Barbra's half days at work; she always left off at half past twelve, and usually went to town for shopping. The local shop was alright in itself, but they had only a small selection and they were rather expensive, so she bought most things in town, doing the rounds of the three main supermarkets. It was a twenty-minute drive, so it didn't take long -- the shopping did, as a rule, and when she'd deposited all her groceries on the rear seat she decided to have some tea at the Mauve Door in the square. They had good croissants, and she was hungry, and she wanted to sit and relax. Because of the good weather the cafe had put some tables and chairs outside, and she placed her order and sat down, basking in the sun.

Her tea and food weren't long in coming, and she really enjoyed sitting there, watching the people go by and listening to the voices and the cars in the distance.

She was pleasantly drowsy, and she sat simply having a good time when Beau walked up to her.

"Hello, Barbra," he said.

"Hi Beau! How's life? Won't you sit down and have a coffee with me?"

"Yes please. Life's great. You have a wonderful sister!"

"I know." Barbra smiled at him. "What can I get you?"

"A cappuccino, please. Hot and sweet."

"Alright -- just a sec."

She disappeared indoors and Beau sat down and stretched his long legs.

Barbra sat down again. "How's Em?" she said.

"We'll meet tomorrow afternoon -- we'll have dinner together. She was okay this morning when I called her." He smiled as he mentioned her, and he looked very happy.

"Are you getting serious about her?"

"Yes, I think so. It's feeling better every time we talk. She's really a very sweet person, isn't she?"

"Mmm... We used to quarrel more often than not. But I do love her, and yes, she can be very sweet."

"Oh well -- sisters. I know. I quarrelled a lot with my brother, too. What to do? You know the way it goes. So you haven't been killed in you sleep yet?" He grinned mischievously.

"Killed in my sleep? Oh, I see -- Em must've told you. No I haven't. It was a silly remark." She grinned back at Beau. "He sent me copies of some CDs we talked about. Em heard me play one. Really nice; my father used to play me a lot of music like that."

"Jazz?"

"Twenties jazz, yes."

"Oh, wonderful. I love that stuff."

"Good. Em does, too, I think. She said so and I never knew."

"You never really know people, do you? Takes all your life. Emily really enjoyed the concert."

Barbra smiled. She hoped that the burgeoning love between Beau and Emily would work out. It might well make Emily feel more at ease with life and herself. Beau was exceptionally nice, quite the opposite of what she'd feared when she saw him first. He was polite and well-dressed and Barbra felt she would be happy to have him for a brother-in-law, if it should ever come to that.