Once a Rebel... by Nikki Logan Read Free Book Online Page B

fought theexpression of her feelings, the more he wanted to hold her as she bled her grief out onto the Concert Hall’s plush carpet.
    He shuffled his arm around behind her and pulled her gently to his shoulder.
    The fact she came so very willingly told him a lot about how she was feeling.
    They passed the whole piece like that, him curled protectively around her, giving her the privacy she needed, his eyes pressed closed against the evocative music. And against the warmth of the woman in his arms. He felt a few glances from the people around them but he didn’t care.
    He pressed his lips to her hairline and left them there.
    The final notes lingered, eddied around them and then rippled out through the venue and were gone. The audience was completely silent, the hard thrum of blood past his ears the only sound in the place.
    The conductor lowered his baton and turned, the pianist stood and bowed, and the audience responded to his cue by bursting into loud fevered applause.
    ‘Shirley …’ Hayden said over the din.
    Her arm curled around his neck and held him close, her shudder half-swallowed. He gave her a moment, lent her shelter, lent her his strength.
    Surprised to discover he had any left at all these days.
    But eventually one of them had to move. He cleared his throat. ‘Shirley …’
    This time she withdrew—in body and in spirit—snaking her arms back into herself and pushing back in her seat. A furious flush stained her pale skin.
    ‘Are you okay—?’
    She pushed to her feet, swiping at her eyes. Enough of the audience were on their feet to celebrate the brilliant piano interpretation that their departure wasn’t too shocking.
    All anyone saw was an overwhelmed woman. They would have no idea what this evening meant to her.
    ‘Are you okay?’ he repeated the moment they were in the comparative silence of the empty foyer. A new piece began in the auditorium behind them.
    ‘I’m fine.’ She swiped at her eyes with a napkin she’d snatched from a foyer table and kept her eyes off his. ‘I just …’ She took a deep breath. ‘I wasn’t ready for it.’
    ‘It’s okay to miss her, Shirley.’
    Her laugh was harsh. ‘It’s been ten years. You’d think I’d have a handle on it by now.’
    What could he say? ‘Would that we could all be loved that much.’
    She shuddered in a deep breath and appeared to revive before his eyes. ‘Thank you.’
    ‘What for?’
    ‘For arranging this. For her.’ She smiled, watery but strengthening, and he realised for the first time how very many smiles she had. And how differently he felt about each one of them.
    ‘I didn’t do it for her, Shirley. Or for me.’ Herdelicate brows flickered. ‘I wanted you to have this.’
    Not that he had a clue why. It wasn’t going to get him anything in return. Nothing she’d give him in a million years, anyway.
    Her expression turned awkward. ‘You don’t think I’d have made it to the symphony unassisted?
    ‘You would have been halfway up the back. You would have heard the music but not …’ His fingers grasped for the words he couldn’t find.
    She lifted her eyes. ‘Lived it?’
    ‘Breathed it. She was a wise woman, your mother.’
    Shirley sagged. ‘I wish I’d known her as an adult, the way you did. To me, she was just my mum. She nagged me about homework and told me to clean my room and what not to wear in public.’
    ‘You took that last one to heart, I see …’
    She threw him her fakest smile and he laughed. It felt odd to have run the full gamut of emotions with her in just a quarter of an hour. Exhilaration, devastation and now humour. An intimacy trifecta.
    ‘I would love to have just one adult conversation with her,’ she murmured.
    He plunged his hands into his pockets to stop himself from touching her. From stroking the sadness from that flawless brow. ‘I think she would have been proud of what you do,’ he said. ‘Of the way you speak for some parts of the community and challenge others.